PHINEAS, going along the beach that night, in the early moonlight,
towards his home, saw a little figure crouched in the shadow of a low
building beside the wharf. It was shaking with violent sobs. He went up
to the child, and took its hands down from its wet face, with a
comforting expression of pity. Then he started back in surprise. It was
Joel!
"Why, my child! My poor child!" he exclaimed, putting his arm around the
trembling, misshapen form. "What is the meaning of all this?"
"Uncle Laban has driven me away from home!" sobbed the boy. "He was
angry because you and Rabbi Jesus were invited to Levi-Matthew's feast.
He says I have denied the faith, and am worse than an infidel. He says I
am fit only to be cast out with the dogs and publicans!--and--and--" he
ended with a wail. "Oh, he sent me away with his curse!"
Phineas drew him closer, and stroked the head on his shoulder in pitying
silence.
"Fatherless and motherless and lame!" the boy sobbed bitterly. "And now,
a homeless outcast, blighted by a curse, I have been sitting here with
my feet in the dark water, thinking how easy it would be to slip down
into it and forget; but, Rabbi Phineas, that face will not let me,--that
face of your friend,--I keep seeing it all the time!"
Phineas gathered the boy so close in his arms that Joel could feel his
strong, even heart-beats.
"My child," he said solemnly, "call me no more, Rabbi! Henceforth, it is
to be _father_ Phineas. You shall be to me as my own son!"
"But the curse!" sobbed Joel. "The curse that is set upon me! It will
blight you too!"
"Nay," was the quiet answer; "for it is written, 'As the bird by
wandering, as the swallow by flying, _so the curse, causeless, shall not
come_.'"
But the boy still shook as with a chill. His face and hands were burning
hot.
"Come!" said Phineas. He picked him up in his strong arms, and carried
him down the beach to Abigail's motherly care and comforting.
"He will be a long time getting over the shock of this," she said to
her husband, when he was at last soothed to sleep.
"Ah, loyal little heart!" he answered, "he has suffered much for the
sake of his friendship with us!"
Poor little storm-tossed bark! In the days that followed he had reason
to bless the boisterous winds, that blew him to such a safe and happy
harbor!
* * * * *
Over on the horns of Mount Hattin, the spring morning began to shine.
The light crept slowly down the side of the old mountain, till it fell
on a little group of men talking earnestly together. It was the Preacher
of Galilee, who had just chosen twelve men from among those who followed
Him to help Him in His ministry.
They gathered around Him in the fresh mountain dawn, as He pictured the
life in store for them. Strange they did not quail before it, and turn
back disheartened. Nay, not strange! For in the weeks they had been with
Him, they had learned to love Him so, that His "follow me," that drew
them from the toll-gate and fishing-boat, was stronger than ties of home
and kindred.
Just about this time, Phineas and Joel were starting out from Capernaum
to the mountain. Hundreds of people were already on the way; people who
had come from all parts of Judea, and beyond the Jordan. Clouds of dust
rose above the highway as the travellers trudged along.
Joel was obliged to walk slowly, so that by the time they reached the
plain below, a great multitude had gathered.
"Let's get close," he whispered. He had heard that those who barely
touched the garments of the strange Rabbi were made whole, and it was
with the hope that he might steal up and touch Him unobserved that he
had begged Phineas to take him on such a long, painful walk.
"There is too great a crowd, now," answered Phineas. "Let us rest here
awhile, and listen. Let me lift you up on this big rock, so that you can
see. 'Sh! He is speaking!"
Joel looked up, and, for the second time in his life, listened to words
that thrilled him like a trumpet call,--words that through eighteen
hundred years have not ceased to vibrate; with what mighty power they
must have fallen when, for the first time, they broke the morning
stillness of those mountain wilds!
Joel forgot the press of people about him, forgot even where he was, as
sentence after sentence seemed to lift him out of himself, till he
could catch glimpses of lofty living such as he had never even dreamed
of before.
Round by round, he seemed to be carried up some high ladder of thought
by that voice, away from all that was common and low and earthly, to a
summit of infinite love and light.
Still the voice led on, "Ye have heard that it hath been said, 'An eye
for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.'"
Joel started so violently at hearing his own familiar motto, that he
nearly lost his balance on the rock.
"But I say unto you that you resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite
thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.... Ye have heard
that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine
enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you,
do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use
you, and persecute you."
Poor little Joel, it was a hard doctrine for him to accept! How could he
give up his hope of revenge, when it had grown with his growth till it
had come to be as dear as life itself?
He heard little of the rest of the sermon, for through it all the words
kept echoing, "Bless them that curse you! Do good to them that hate
you! Pray for them which despitefully use you!"
"Oh, I can't! I can't!" he groaned inwardly.
"I have found a chance for you to ride home," said Phineas, when the
sermon was over, and the people began to file down the narrow mountain
paths. "But there will be time for you to go to Him first, for healing.
You have only to ask, you know."
Joel took an eager step forward, and then shrank back guiltily. "Not
now," he murmured, "some other time." He could not look into those clear
eyes and ask a blessing, when he knew his heart was black with hate.
After all his weeks of waiting the opportunity had come; but he dared
not let the Sinless One look into his soul.
Phineas began an exclamation of surprise, but was interrupted by some
one asking him a question. Joel took advantage of this to climb up
behind the man who had offered him a ride. All the way home he weighed
the two desires in his mind,--the hope of healing, and the hope of
revenge.
By the time the two guardian fig-trees were in sight, he had decided. He
would rather go helpless and halting through life than give up his
cherished purpose.
But there was no sleep for him that night, after he had gone up to his
little chamber on the roof. He seemed to see that pleading face on the
mountain-side; it came to him again and again, with the words, "Bless
them that curse you! Pray for them that despitefully use you!"
All night he fought against yielding to it. Time and again he turned
over on his bed, and closed his eyes; but it would not let him alone.
He thought of Jacob wrestling with the angel till day-break, and knew in
his heart that the sweet spirit of forgiveness striving with his selfish
nature was some heavenly impulse from another world.
At last when the cock-crowing commenced at dawn, and the stars were
beginning to fade, he drew up his crooked little body, and knelt with
his face to the kindling east.
"Father in heaven," he prayed softly, "bless mine enemy Rehum, and
forgive all my sins,--fully and freely as I now forgive the wrong he has
done to me."
A feeling of light-heartedness and peace, such as he had never known
before, stole over him. He could not settle himself to sleep, though
worn out with his night's long vigil.
[Illustration: "NOT A WORD WAS SAID"]
Hastily slipping on his clothes, he tiptoed down the stairs, and limped,
bare-headed, down to the beach. The lake shimmered and glowed under the
faint rose and gray of the sky like a deep opal. The early breeze blew
the hair back from his pale face with a refreshing coolness.
It seemed to him the world had never looked one half so beautiful
before, as he stood there.
A firm tread on the gravel made him turn partly around. A man was coming
up the beach; it was the friend of Phineas. As if drawn by some
uncontrollable impulse, Joel started to meet Him, an unspoken prayer in
his pleading little face.
Not a word was said. For one little instant Joel stood there by the
shining sea, his hand held close in the loving hand of the world's
Redeemer. For one little instant he looked up into His face; then the
man passed on.
Joel covered his face with his hands, seeming to hear the still small
voice that spoke to the prophet out of the whirlwind.
"He is the Christ!" he whispered reverently,--"He is the Christ!"
In his exalted feeling all thought of a cure had left him; but as he
walked on down the beach, he noticed that he no longer limped. He was
moving along with strong, quick strides. He shook himself and threw
back his shoulders; there was no pain in the movement. He passed his
hands over his back and down his limbs.
Oh, he was straight and strong and sinewy! He seemed a stranger to
himself, as running and leaping, then stopping to look down and feel his
limbs again, he ran madly on.
Suddenly he cast his garments aside and dived into the lake. Before his
injury, he had been able to swim like a fish, now he reached out with
long powerful strokes that sent him darting through the cold water with
a wonderful sense of exhilaration.
Then he dressed again, and went on running and leaping and climbing till
he was exhausted, and his first wild delirious joy began to subside into
a deep quiet thankfulness. Then he went home, radiant in the happiness
of his new-found cure.
But more than the mystery of the miracle, more than the joy of the
healing, was the remembrance of that moment, that one little moment,
when he felt the clasp of the Master's hand, and seemed wrapped about
with the boundless love of God.
From that moment, he lived but to serve and to follow Him.