The Son of
God had spoken words of comfort to his mourning friends, when he was the
present God and they were the forefront of humanity; I would read some of
the words he spoke. From them the human nature in each would draw what
comfort it could. I took my New Testament from my pocket, and said, without
any preamble,
"When our Lord was going to die, he knew that his friends loved him enough
to be very wretched about it. He knew that they would be overwhelmed for a
time with trouble. He knew, too, that they could not believe the glad end
of it all, to which end he looked, across the awful death that awaited
him--a death to which that of our friends in the wreck was ease itself. I
will just read to you what he said."
I read from the fourteenth to the seventeenth chapter of St. John's Gospel.
I knew there were worlds of meaning in the words into which I could hardly
hope any of them would enter. But I knew likewise that the best things are
just those from which the humble will draw the truth they are capable of
seeing.
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