The Crucifixion of Philip StrongSheldon, Charles M.
General
The Crucifixion of Philip Strong
Sheldon, Charles M.
Christian fiction
ages gone, Christ's words ring in our ears with twenty centuries of
reverberation, 'Whosoever will not deny himself and take up his cross,
he cannot be my disciple.'"
Of all the sermons on Christ and Modern Society which Philip had thus
far preached, none had hit so hard or was applied so personally as this.
The Goldens went home from the service in a towering rage. "That settles
Calvary Church for me," said Mrs. Golden, as she flung herself out of
the building after the service was over. "I consider that the most
insulting sermon I ever heard from any minister. It is simply
outlandish; and how the church can endure such preaching much longer is
a wonder to me. I don't go near it again while Mr. Strong is the
minister!" Philip did not know it yet, but he was destined to find out
that society carries a tremendous power in its use of the word
"outlandish," applied either to persons or things.
When the evening service was over, Philip, as his habit was, lay down on
the couch in front of the open fire until the day's excitement had
subsided a little. It was almost the only evening in the week when he
gave himself up to complete rest of mind and body.
He had been lying there about a quarter of an hour when Mrs. Strong, who
had been moving a plant back from one of the front windows and had been
obliged to raise a curtain, stepped back into the room with an
exclamation.
"Philip! There is some one walking back and forth in front of the house!
I have heard the steps ever since we came home. And just now I saw a man
stop and look in here. Who can it be?"
"Maybe it's the man with the burglar's lantern come back to get his
knife," said Philip, who had always made a little fun of that incident
as his wife had told it. However, he rose and went over to the window.
Sure enough, there was a man out on the sidewalk looking straight at the
house. He was standing perfectly still.
Philip and his wife stood by the window looking at the figure outside,
and, as it did not move away, at last Philip grew a little impatient and
went to the door to open it and ask the man what he meant by staring
into people's houses in that fashion.
"Now, do be careful, won't you?" entreated his wife, anxiously.
"Yes, I presume it is some tramp or other wanting food. There's no
danger, I know."
He flung the door wide open and called out in his clear, hearty voice:
"Anything you want, friend? Come up and ring the bell if you want to get
in and know us, instead of standing there on the walk catching cold and
making us wonder who you are."
In response to this frank and informal invitation the figure came
forward and slowly mounted the steps of the porch. As the face came into
view more clearly, Philip started and fell back a little.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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