The Turks were true to their religion, and were following the example and teaching of Mohammed, when they took the sword; the Crusaders claimed to be followers of Him Who said, 'My kingdom is not of this world, else would My servants fight'; 'Love your enemies'; of Whose life it is written that 'He went about doing good,' and Whose disciples learnt and learnt out their Master's lesson—'Love never faileth. The greatest of these is love.'
Did we say none saw it? Yes, there were just a few, a mere handful. For God never leaves Himself without witness. But there was one—for all that history tells us—who had the courage of his faith.
Raymund Lull.
The son of a Christian knight and noble in the Spanish island of Majorca, Raymund 'is acknowledged by all writers on the history of missions to be the main connecting link between the apostles of Northern Europe and the leaders who followed the Reformation.' Read the story of the thirteenth century in Europe, and realize the days in which he lived. The spirit of the Crusades is still alive, the conflict between Islam and Christian Europe is still raging. Tales of knightly purity shine out from a background of gross sensuality, and hymns of devotion are written in strange contrast to Bacchanalian revel songs. The world-power of Rome is declining, the general state of morals, even among popes and clergy, is very low; superstition is rife. The Inquisition has just come into play.
Towering high above his day, like some unexpected mountain peak soaring above an unbroken land of stagnant marsh, stands the figure of this man, Raymund Lull, who dared to believe in love, to preach love, to live love.
{Sidenote: 1. Early Life.]
He was brought up in luxury and ease amid the splendour of the Spanish court, 'popular in the world, a lover of pleasure rather than a lover of God.' 'He had everything this world could give him: brilliant, versatile, splendidly successful; knight, poet, musician, scholar, nobleman, courtier, gallant.' So, till he was in his thirty-second year. To him, then, there came the vision of Christ crucified. In the light of that Cross the glories of this world faded, and a new glory entered his life. The Turkish question lay heavy on his soul; and, full of a great longing towards the Turks, he desired to 'conquer' the Holy Land. But here was his proposal which he boldly set forth to the astonished Crusade-going, Turk-hating Church:
'I see many knights going to the Holy Land beyond the seas, and thinking that they can acquire it by force of arms; but in the end all are destroyed before they attain that which they think to have. Whence it seems to me that the conquest of the Holy Land ought not to be attempted except in the way in which Thou and Thine Apostles acquired it, namely, by love and prayers and the pouring out of tears and blood.'
This marvellous man was, indeed, a missionary of the most up-to-date kind. Nine years of preparation he gave himself, mastering Arabic, studying and writing on Christian philosophy, learning geography, the pioneer 500 years before his day of twentieth-century missionary study! And all this with scarcely a friend who believed that his missionary call was anything more than a piece of chimerical fanaticism!