Part 8 (2/2)

It is along this road that the Church has always marched to her most splendid triumphs. Why did the Roman Empire so swiftly capitulate to the claims of Christ? Lecky discusses that question in his _History of European Morals_. And he answers it by saying that the conquest was achieved by the new spirit which Christ had introduced. The idea of a Saviour who could weep at the sepulcher of His friend; and be touched by a sense of His people's infirmities, was a novelty to that old pagan world. And when the early Christians showed themselves willing to endure any suffering, or bear any loss, if, by so doing, they might win their friends, their sincerity and devotion proved irresistible.

V

But Michael Trevanion must lead us higher yet. For what Michael Trevanion learned from Paul, Paul himself had learned from an infinitely greater. Let us trace it back!

'Let me be d.a.m.ned to all eternity that my boy may be saved!' cries Michael Trevanion, sitting at the feet of Paul, but misunderstanding his teacher.

'_I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh_,' exclaims Paul, sitting at the feet of One who not only _wished_ to be accursed, but _entered into_ the impenetrable darkness of that dreadful anathema.

'_My G.o.d, my G.o.d, why hast Thou forsaken Me?_' He cried from that depth of dereliction. 'In that awful hour,' said Rabbi Duncan, addressing his students, 'in that awful hour _He took our d.a.m.nation, and He took it lovingly!_' When, with reverent hearts and bated breath, we peer down into the fathomless deeps that such a saying opens to us, we catch a glimpse of the inexpressible value which heaven sets upon the souls of men. And, when Michael Trevanion has led us to such inaccessible heights and to such unutterable depths as these, we can very well afford to say Good-bye to him.

IX

HUDSON TAYLOR'S TEXT

I

The day on which James Hudson Taylor--then a boy in his teens--found himself confronted by that tremendous text was, as he himself testified in old age, 'a day that he could never forget.' It is a day that China can never forget; a day that the world can never forget. It was a holiday; everybody was away from home; and the boy found time hanging heavily upon his hands. In an aimless way he wandered, during the afternoon, into his father's library, and poked about among the shelves.

'I tried,' he says, 'to find some book with which to while away the leaden hours. Nothing attracting me, I turned over a basket of pamphlets and selected from among them a tract that looked interesting. I knew that it would have a story at the commencement and a moral at the close; but I promised myself that I would enjoy the story and leave the rest.

It would be easy to put away the tract as soon as it should seem prosy.'

He scampers off to the stable-loft, throws himself on the hay, and plunges into the book. He is captivated by the narrative, and finds it impossible to drop the book when the story comes to an end. He reads on and on. He is rewarded by one great golden word whose significance he has never before discovered: '_The Finished Work of Christ!_' The theme entrances him; and at last he only rises from his bed in the soft hay that he may kneel on the hard floor of the loft and surrender his young life to the Saviour who had surrendered everything for him. If, he asked himself, as he lay upon the hay, if the whole work was finished, and the whole debt paid upon the Cross, what is there left for me to do? 'And then,' he tells us, 'there dawned upon me the joyous conviction that there was nothing in the world to be done but to fall upon my knees, accept the Saviour and praise Him for evermore.'

'_It is finished!_'

'_When Jesus, therefore, had received the vinegar he said, ”It is finished!” and He bowed His head and gave up the ghost._'

'_Then there dawned upon me the joyous conviction that, since the whole work was finished and the whole debt paid upon the Cross, there was nothing for me to do but to fall upon my knees, accept the Saviour and praise Him for evermore!_'

II

'_It is finished!_'

It is really only one word: the greatest word ever uttered; we must examine it for a moment as a lapidary examines under a powerful gla.s.s a rare and costly gem.

It was a _farmer's_ word. When, into his herd, there was born an animal so beautiful and shapely that it seemed absolutely dest.i.tute of faults and defects, the farmer gazed upon the creature with proud, delighted eyes. '_Tetelestai!_' he said, '_tetelestai!_'

It was an _artist's_ word. When the painter or the sculptor had put the last finis.h.i.+ng touches to the vivid landscape or the marble bust, he would stand back a few feet to admire his masterpiece, and, seeing in it nothing that called for correction or improvement, would murmur fondly, '_Tetelestai! tetelestai!_'

It was a _priestly_ word. When some devout wors.h.i.+per, overflowing with grat.i.tude for mercies shown him, brought to the temple a lamb without spot or blemish, the pride of the whole flock, the priest, more accustomed to seeing the blind and defective animals led to the altar, would look admiringly upon the pretty creature. '_Tetelestai!_' he would say, '_tetelestai!_'

And when, in the fullness of time, the Lamb of G.o.d offered Himself on the altar of the ages, He rejoiced with a joy so triumphant that it bore down all His anguish before it. The sacrifice was stainless, perfect, finished! '_He cried with a loud voice Tetelestai! and gave up the ghost._'

This divine self-satisfaction appears only twice, once in each Testament. When He completed the work of Creation, He looked upon it and said that it was very good; when He completed the work of Redemption He cried with a loud voice _Tetelestai_! It means exactly the same thing.

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