Lazarus, a tale of the world's great miracle/Chapter 42
CHAPTER XLII.
AS rapidly as possible Lazarus sent messengers from one disciple to another, bidding them assemble at a given place in Jerusalem, in case the Lord should appear to them. He had chosen the house of a trusted friend, and, at the given hour, all, except Thomas, who could not be found, assembled. They came in singly, at short intervals, lest they should attract attention, and be massacred before they could perform their Lord's command to spread the glad tidings of salvation throughout the world. When all had come, the doors were shut and barred; then all knelt, and Lazarus raised a prayer that, if it were God's will, it might be granted them to see the Lord once more; also that they might be quickened by the Holy Spirit, which Jesus had promised should be shed upon them.
And, while he prayed, the room, that had been almost dark, seemed to grow lighter and ever lighter. The lightness was no natural one, for its source was not apparent. It seemed to gather of itself and gradually to form a column of surpassing radiance in the centre of the room. Suddenly, in the midst of it appeared the figure of the Lord.
So sudden and unexpected was His coming, so dazzling was the brightness of His visage, that they all fell upon their faces, half in worship, half in awe.
Then, on the throbbing silence, words arose that were to be treasured up through life and death, till they should be heard once more within the gates of heaven: "Peace be unto you."
And, while He spoke, He raised His hand, that they might recognise Him by the cruel marks of the nails.
Then again, with deep solemnity, He said, "Peace be unto you." And with His hand He pointed to His side, the side which Pilate, out of mercy, had ordered to be pierced. "As My Father hath sent Me, even so send I you."
Then, in the midst of the utter silence, it seemed that He heaved a sigh, and that from those lips there issued some holy essence which, in the semi-darkness, took the image of a golden dove. At the same moment the voice of Jesus rose distinct and clear: "Receive ye the Holy Ghost."
And, at these words, it was as though lips and heart had been smitten with a lightning flash, and a curtain rolled away from before brain and soul. And then a great peace fell on them softly, like evening dew on moss, and Life and Death and Immortality and Faith and Christ had become certainties for evermore. And all the earth seemed alive with whirring, rushing sounds of wings that filled the heart with breezy gladness.
Then, in the gloaming of that spring evening, He led them forth, as heretofore to Bethany, where He had ever loved to be; and, in those last hours of sweet companionship, He unfolded to them many things that they could now the better understand—things that before had seemed mysterious and unreal —how that each incident of His Passion had been foretold by Moses and the prophets. Then many matters that to them had seemed inexplicable stood out bold and clear before their understanding, amazing them with their simplicity. And then He vested them with power over serpents and evil spirits and to heal disease, and further, to pardon sins and to perform miracles; and He bid them bear true witness of what they had seen and heard, and to preach repentance and remission of sins.
Then from before the eyes of Lazarus there seemed to rise a veil, and he saw with unerring vision that as he had once died to witness to the glory of the Lord, so now he was to live to show it forth.
They reached Lazarus's garden, and there fell in adoring worship at His feet, pouring out their hearts in gratitude for all that He had done for them; and Mary Magdalene, with faced bowed to the ground, cried out: "For my sins, my Saviour, wast Thou crucified; for my sins, for my sins!"
Then, in one last great act of love, He stretched forth His hand and blessed them with a blessing that should protect and guide them for evermore, and stamp them with the seal of heaven.
The faint odours of budding flowers, the gentle breeze that seemed to soften the chill of spring and to waft into it a breath of summer; the dull glow that was neither light nor darkness; a strange burning of dread and expectancy in their hearts; the hush of nature, as if all living things were listening to the choir of angels waiting to welcome the coming of their Lord all—these combined to stamp the scene upon the disciples' minds forever.
One last parting look, and a great tearing of the heart-strings; and then, like a streak of roseate effulgence borrowed from the dying sunset, the Divine Figure floated upwards; and as He rose, His hands, uplifted in one last blessing, showed the imprints of the lacerating nails. And while they gazed with upturned faces to the sky, they sank once more upon their knees, a strange radiance lighting up their faces and shining all around; and a cry went up: "Glory to God, Glory to God on earth!"
And angel voices echoed: "Glory to God in heaven!"
And the stupendous act of man's redemption was accomplished.