Naomi

by Mrs. J. B. Webb

"Did you see Jesus again, Mary?" inquired Claudia. "I know that he was at length condemned by our Roman governor; but where did that take place?"

"Oh! my child, they led him from court to court, and from one judge to another. They insulted and scourged him; they clothed him in robes of mockery; and we saw him thus brought forth to the people by Pilate, and heard him loudly proclaim that he found no fault in him. Then we believed that he would be set free, and that his humiliation was over. But Pilate's declaration of his innocence was received with deafening cries of 'Crucify him, crucify him!' The chief priests moved the people to demand his death, and their voices prevailed over Pilate's own conviction that he had done no evil. A murderer was released, according to the custom of the governor to set one prisoner at liberty on that day, and Jesus was led away to be crucified. Tearless, and almost stupified, my sister and I followed in the crowd. We could not believe that what we had seen and heard was true; but soon we beheld our own adored Master bending beneath the weight of the cross on which he was to suffer. I cannot dwell on what followed. You have all heard the particulars of that dread hour, and all have learned to cast your souls at the foot of that cross, and seek salvation there. Martha and I stood afar off; we could not leave the spot, nor could we bring ourselves to approach nearer to the scene of suffering. But the mother of the Lord stood by, attended by three of her faithful friends, and the beloved disciple supported her. She who had watched over his infancy, and noted in her heart every manifestation of his divine nature—she who had ever received from him the affection of a son, now stood beneath his cross, and saw his dying agonies. Not even the horrors of that hour could make him forget his mother; he looked down and blessed her and with his dying breath committed her to the care of John."

"And he well discharged the trust," observed Theophilus. "My father has often told me of his devoted attention to her while she lived. He was indeed a son to her; and nothing which could soothe her spirit or promote her comfort was neglected by John. With what impatient delight do I look forward to seeing that blessed man at Ephesus! He will repeat to me again and again all that you have told me so often, Mary; and by God's help I shall learn from him yet more and more to love my risen Lord. Oh, if I had lived while Jesus was on earth, I feel as if my love for him would have emulated that of John! He is indeed blessed beyond all the other sons of men; for he is that disciple who was eminently beloved. He was privileged to hold such intimate communion with him as we can never know."

"True, my son," replied Mary, "the Lord will return no more to earth as a man of sorrows, and deign to accept the sympathy and the humble services of his disciples. But your eyes, Theophilus, shall wake to see him come in glory; and if your faith and love hold on steadfast unto the end, you shall meet him as a friend, and enjoy such proofs of his favour as shall far surpass all that were ever bestowed even on John."

"But tell me," interrupted Claudia, "what did you see and hear of the fearful prodigies that attended the death of Messiah? I love to hear the recital from you, who were an eye-witness of all the awful events which declared him to be indeed the Son of God. My father once mentioned with contempt the centurion, who at that moment confessed his divinity; but he knew not the truth of all that then occurred to force conviction on the heart of the Roman soldier. It is my warmest prayer that one day I may hear him also exclaim, 'Truly this was the Son of God!'"

"May the Lord grant it!" replied Mary. "No soul that was not blinded by the devices of Satan could have witnessed what that centurion saw and not have believed. An awful darkness had covered the land for three hours, and then, when all had been accomplished—when pardon had been pronounced on the expiring thief—when an asylum had been provided for his heart-broken mother—and when everything had been fulfilled, even to the letter, that had been prophesied concerning him—the Lord proclaimed in a loud voice, 'It is finished!' Heaven and earth heard the cry, and man's redemption was complete. Then he said, 'Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit;'—and bowing his head in death, his divine spirit left the house of clay in which it had so long sojourned and suffered. Then did the powers of nature give evidence to the awful importance of the work that was finished. The earth quaked to its foundations, the rocks were rent asunder, and the graves burst open. And more ominous still, the veil of the temple was rent asunder, and the priests who were waiting there rushed forth in terror, to declare the wonderful event. The hearts of the multitude, who had come together as to a spectacle, were stricken with awe. They smote their breasts, and returned in wonder to their homes. But we who knew and loved him best, yet tarried to watch his corpse. We knew that all life was fled, for we had seen his body pierced by the spear of one of the soldiers; but we could not leave his sacred form to be the object of their insults. We had not power or influence sufficient to obtain permission to bury it; but Joseph of Arimathea, who believed in him, and feared not to acknowledge his faith, even at that time of danger and distrust, went boldly to the Roman governor, and having requested the body of Jesus, it was delivered to him for interment. It was the weakness of our faith which led us to be so anxious about the burying of our Lord's body; for had we believed all that he himself had said concerning his rising again the third day, we should have known that all our cares and precautions for its preservation was needless. But as yet we knew not the Scriptures nor the power of God and when the Lord was laid in the sepulchre of Joseph, we saw a great stone laid against the door, and departed with the melancholy satisfaction of knowing that all due respect had been paid to his honoured remains."

"But how wonderfully," observed Naomi, "was this very circumstance made to show forth the truth of God's word! The Jews even now say that his disciples came by night and took him away; and such is my father's reply, when I speak of his miraculous resurrection. But he cannot deny the security of the sepulchre. He acknowledges that the stone was sealed, and a watch was set by the chief priests. Surely then their own precautions prove the falsity of what they say."

"Yes, my child," continued Mary, "the malice of these wicked men was overruled by God, to accomplish what he had desired; and their jealous prudence was the means of proving that he did not suffer his Holy One to see corruption. While we, his weak and sorrowing disciples, were mourning his death with bitter tears, and hiding our grief in solitude, for fear of the vengeance of the priests, the Lord was preparing for us such joy and triumph as our desponding hearts could not conceive. What words can tell the feelings which over-powered us when first we heard the glorious news, 'He is risen!' And oh! when at length we saw him, when our eyes were blessed with the sight of his heavenly countenance, and we heard again that voice of mercy and of love, truly could we then have taken up the words of the aged Simeon, and said, 'Lord, now are we ready to depart in peace, for our eyes have seen thy salvation!' We knew that our redemption was accomplished and accepted; we knew that henceforth whosoever believed in Jesus should inherit eternal life. All our doubts and fears were gone, and peace and joy for ever established in our souls. The Lord did not tarry long with us, but ascended to his Father. There does he watch over his church, and sympathise in all the trials and temptations of his children; and there do they join him and behold his glory, as one by one the hand of death comes to set them free from this earthly tabernacle, and open to them an entrance into the mansions of everlasting bliss. Oh! my dear children, my spirit longs to take its flight, and soon, I feel, will the summons come."

Mary closed her eyes and sank back on her couch, greatly exhausted by the effort she had made. She had hoped that the account of all that she herself had heard and seen might make a deep impression on the heart of Claudia, and she was not disappointed; but her strength was almost unequal to the exertion of so long a discourse on subjects so profoundly interesting to her, and for a few minutes she lay silent and motionless, while in her spirit she fervently prayed. Her young friends and her faithful attendant Hannah, who had listened to the conversation with deep attention, stood round her in silence, until she had somewhat recovered her strength, when she raised herself, and again addressed them, but in a weak and faltering voice—

"The evening is closing in, my children, and you have already tarried too long with me. I will detain you no more: but if we meet again in this world, I will tell you yet many things that will touch your hearts with love to your Redeemer, and furnish you with blessed subjects for reflection when youth and health are gone, and you are, like me, laid on the bed of death. Let me bless you before you depart."