“And one shall say unto Him: What are these wounds in thine hands? Then He shall answer: Those with which I was wounded — in the house of my friends.”’ Zech. 13:6. “And I will pray the Father, and He will give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you forever.” John 14:16.
There is an old Russian legend —
Brief as a passing zephyr, fragrant as mignonette when an ancient drawer is opened, haunting as a strain of a forgotten melody.
The original legend was told in a half dozen brief sentences in childhood, but the seed thought grows in the fertile mind of loving fancy.
According to the legend —
When Christ ascended unto the Heavenly City, the entire sky was o’er cast with bright, billowing clouds composed of seraphic hosts who swept down to welcome Him.
From horizon to horizon the air throbbed with pulsing pinions till it beat like the mellow waves of an inrushing tide. Slumberous flowers and verdant trees fluttered in continued motion ’neath multitudinous, winnowing wings. All Heaven swept lower, lower, like the measured descent of some mammoth, wing-adorned canopy in a lofty temple.
Gabriel, swift-winged messenger of God, is said to have been first to reach the Gates.
“Master!
“Master!” he cried.
“Tt is good to have Thee back!
“Ah, Lord, since Thou wert gone from out our midst these more than thirty years, as men count time, ’tis as though a minor note had crept into the angel song. But now, now ’tis gone and they sing exultantly.
“Since Thou wert gone, the golden streets have lost a part of their lustre and the rainbow about the Throne a portion of its shining. Thou art indeed the bright Jewel of Heaven, the shining Morning Star! With Thy return all Heaven is bathed afresh with Glory. Welcome! Welcome home!”
Michael, with great sweep of wide-spread wings, reached him next crying:
“Hail!
“Thou Blessed and Beloved of the Father! Hail!
“All Heaven is enmassed to welcome Thee!
“Lord! How the peoples of the earth must have loved Thee and adored Thee! If here, Angel and Arch-angel, Cherubim and Seraphim chant Thine excellent praises through infinite eternities; if here the Elders and the Living Creatures, prostrate before Thy Throne, cry ever, ‘Holy! Holy! Holy!’— what exceeding honor must the men of earth have laid before Thee during the few fleeting days Thou wert in their lowly midst! How they must have loved Thee, Lord! How must Kings and Rulers have risen from their thrones to cast their crowns and sceptres at Thy sacred feet.”
A shadow is said to have fallen for a moment upon the Face, fair as the morning.
“No, Michael. I was rejected and despised, a Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief.
“Look!’
“Look! His hands!’
Gabriel of the Annunciation was first to notice the cruel scars.
“They appear as though recently torn —”’
“And His feet! His feet!’ cried another. ‘They have been pierced through!”’
“There are crimson footprints on the milk-white steps of the Pearly Gate!”’ chorused the clustering angels.
“His brow, fairer than the placid moon, is marred with strange, dark imprints!” the angels moaned stricken with grief and amazed wonderment.
“And on His glistening robe, just o’er the heart, there is a stain of scarlet!’
“Tord!” cried Gabriel, as the angels put their snowy wings before their weeping eyes, midst quivering consternation;
“Tord, whence these wounds? Whence, these hands so rent and torn?”
“These are the wounds wherewith I was wounded in the house of my friends.”
Bewilderment struggled with shame and horror for an unblushing and audacious earth, as they sobbed:
“They were unworthy of Thee — unworthy — unworthy, Lord!”
“Then, Thou Ambassador of Peace,”’ whispered the warrior Michael, through tense lips:
“Tt — it — was —a failure? Thy mission — was in vain?”
A light, transcending the radiance of the morn, transfigured the lovely face of the Saviour as He is said to have replied:
“Not a failure, Michael, but a glorious, an undying success.”
“The work then is to be carried on? Thou hast appointed others to bear Thy Word forward?”
So soft and sweet was the answering voice with its intensity of tender love that it was as the chiming of Prayer Bells across the glassy sea at twilight.
“Yes, the Gospel shall be preached unto the very ends of the earth.”
“And who, O glorious Sun of Righteousness, who are the harbingers of so marvelous a Message? Who the honored ambassadors to be trusted with so sweet and sacred task?
“Hast Thou left Kings and Rulers, Lord? Hast Thou chosen the Learned and the Wise who intellectually and educationally are best fitted for the task? Or didst Thou command the Mighty with military heel and Sanaa armies to defend and force the Gospel onward?”
“Not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called: but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are
Tue Houy SPIRIT 57 not, to bring to naught things that are: that no flesh should glory in his presence.” 1 Cor. ihsiaie
The rustling among the wings of the massed angels was like unto the murmuring of the wind among the leaves of a mighty forest, as they fell back, wondering, to commune among themselves.
“T have called a few fishermen,” the voice went “s few fishermen to leave their nets and follow Me.
of I have called also a gatherer of taxes and a tiller the soil.”
rned
“But, Master, these are ignorant and unlea
to men! What know they of organization or methods facilitate the promulgation of the Gospe l? Burn ing words of fiery eloquence are foreign to their lips.
“But I will put My words within their mouth and My Spirit within their hearts.
“Hinder Me not; I go to pray the Father and He will send unto them another Comforter, even the
r Holy Spirit, that they may be endued with powe d from on high. He will teach them what they shoul say and will bring all things to their remembrance,
they, whatsoever they have heard of Me. Weak are
all-wise; but their love is strong; unlearned, but in Me
their lives limited, but of flaming zeal, counting not dear unto death; yielded are they and clean and empty
“It ig enough. I am content, for with this seed
shall shall the earth be sown and with eternal harvests the garners of the skies be store d.”
s, the
Up the shimmering aisles of watching angel
greet the Master made His way unto the Throne, to
ised waiting Father and receive of Him the prom s Paraclete, whose descent upon the waiting heart should fill them with His zeal and Spirit.