Philochristus: Memoirs of a Disciple of the LordAbbott, Edwin Abbott
Religion
Philochristus: Memoirs of a Disciple of the Lord
Abbott, Edwin Abbott
Christian fiction; Jesus Christ -- Fiction
At the last, when we sang of the stone refused of the builders but become
the head stone of the corner, he sang with an exceeding clear voice, not
loud, but very piercing, so that it seemed to cleave us to the very heart;
and behold, our voices became lower, even as his became clearer; and we
feared to sing the same words as he sang; but we were rapt with wonder as
we looked upon his countenance; for it was as the countenance of an angel
seeing the very glory of the Most High and gazing upon Him face to face.
And when he sang the last words of all, “God is the Lord who hath shewed
us light, bind the sacrifice with cords, yea even unto the horns of the
altar. Thou art my God, and I will thank thee; thou art my God, and I will
praise thee”; then indeed it came to pass that all we that listened to him
were lifted up in spirit with him in an ecstasy, being delivered from all
our doubts and cares and fears, looking down on them as petty things; and
it was even as if Jesus were holding us by the hand and carrying us up
with himself above the firmament, to the seventh heaven and beyond, yea
even to the Throne of the Blessed.
That instant, a knocking was heard at the door, and one entered in haste
and as if in terror; and he went up to Jesus and whispered in his ear.
Then the glory faded from the face of Jesus, and he became sad, and
straightway gave commandment to depart. But as we went forth from the
chamber to the roof (for the guest‐chamber was an upper chamber and upon
the roof, as was the custom in my country), we heard from the slave that a
guard had been sent forth by Annas to seek Jesus, and that Judas of
Kerioth was thought to be with them, to guide them to the place where
Jesus was. So we went down immediately from the upper chamber where we had
been at meat; and behold, as we passed from the brightness of the
moonlight, which shone upon the roof, down into the darkness of the shadow
of the street, we seemed to have passed out of life into death, and to
have been cast down from Paradise to the depths beneath the earth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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