Christian fiction; Wingfold, Thomas (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
“Was it then of the sinners first our Lord thought ere he came from the
bosom of the Father? Did the perfect will embrace in the all-atoning
tenderness of the divine heart, the degraded, disfigured, defiled,
distorted thing, whose angel is too blind ever to see the face of its
Father? Through all the hideous filth of the charnel-house, which
the passions had heaped upon her, did the Word recognise the bound,
wing-lamed, feather-draggled Psyche, panting in horriblest torture? Did
he have a desire to the work of his hands, the child of his father’s
heart, and therefore, strong in compassion, speed to the painful rescue
of hearts like his own? That purity arid defilement should thus meet
across all the great dividing gulf of law and morals! The friend of
publicans and sinners! Think: he was absolutely friendly with them! was
not shocked at them! held up no hands of dismay! Only they must do so no
more.
“If he were to come again, visibly, now, which do you think would come
crowding around him in greater numbers--the respectable church-goers, or
the people from the slums? I do not know. I dare not judge. But the fact
that the church draws so few of those that are despised, of those whom
Jesus drew and to whom most expressly he came, gives ground for question
as to how far the church is like her Lord. Certainly many a one would
find the way to the feet of the master, from whom the respectable
church-goer, the pharisee of our time, and the priest who stands on his
profession, would draw back with disgust. And doubtless it would be in
the religious world that a man like Jesus, who, without a professional
education, a craftsman by birth and early training, uttered scarce a
phrase endorsed by clerical use, or a word of the religious cant of the
day, but taught in simplest natural forms the eternal facts of faith
and hope and love, would meet with the chief and perhaps the only BITTER
opponents of his doctrine and life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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