light, wilt thou find rest in the ocean waves, and Magdalene find none,
oh spangled heavens and God? Could I this night lay down to sleep in
the swelling bosom of the Mediterranean Sea never to awake, never to
remember more. Oh, that I could sleep forever in a starless night that
knows no morning."
One long, weird, wicked glance she casts at old Jerusalem and then
murmurs, "Was it but yester' night that I, before that monster, stood
and pleaded and pleaded in vain. Oh, see yon cross on Cavalry's
brow. I go--I go, my heart is cold; I die for him. He loves me
still--no--no--he loves me not, he is dead, he will love me never more.
Oh, soulless maid from Galilee, did you once think that men had souls?
Where is my dream of spirit homes, where tranquil souls are joined in
love, far away in Heaven's domain? I am not mad; I know he is dead;
there is no God; there is no home where spirits dwell."
Wandering down the steep, she waits a moment beneath the tree where she
had knelt and prayed that Jesus go with her to Galilee. Lingering a
moment in this sacred retreat, she sighs, with her hand on her heart,
and cries, "Oh, for just one tear to melt the frosty gloom on this cold
fount of life," but tears came not.
Leaping the stream, she ran hysterically up the rocky incline, then
pausing a moment at the gate beautiful she turned towards Calvary.
At the Damascus gate she was startled by the watchman's cry from the
tower, "All is well."
"All is well--all is well," she repeated sarcastically. Through this
gate, at dead of night, dark demons came, and through this gate, in
noonday light, he bore the cross, the cross of shame; and now is this,
the great high priest that sings, "All--all is well"--footsteps near
frightened her, and, shrieking wildly, she whirled and fell in dear old
Peter's arms, who, with John, took her back to those who loved her.
THE RESURRECTION
Feigning rest, she listened until heavy breathing assured her that
all were sleeping, when softly she stole away into the silent night,
and while it was yet dark glided through Gethsemane to Calvary. While
kneeling at the tomb a strange influence aroused her, and, turning, she
saw Jesus.
First she started back, then springing wildly forward, cried, "Jesus,
oh, Jesus," as she extended both hands, strangely to awake and find
that the vision had passed. The mother of Jesus and the other Mary
arrived in time to hear Magdalene's voice and see her faint and fall,
but they saw no man.
When Magdalene realized what had taken place she began weeping, and
crying, "Glory to God." Then, as though recalling sad scenes, she
cried, "Oh, God, forgive that miserable old high priest, Caiaphas--Oh,
God, forgive all their murderous acts, for it was a blessing in
disguise."
She could not walk or stand upon her feet. Soon she swooned, and was
carried back as one dead to the brow of Olive's mountain.
MAGDALENE HERSELF AGAIN
When restored to consciousness she looked wonderingly about her, and
then smiling in her bright, girlish way, said to John, "When, where and
how did I die?"
When told she had not died she inquired: "Was I alive when Jesus came
to me?" and being told she was, she continued, "He says tell the
disciples to meet him in Galilee, and that I must see Ruth before I
come to him; and tell her all about this--is she here? Oh no; what a
goose I am; she is at home, way up in Galilee--way up in Galilee," she
repeated, and then, kissing the hand of the mother, she smilingly said,
"Oh, Aunty, do you think little birds will sing next summer, when I am
gone, as they did when Ruth and I were little girls, we never thinking
that we must some day part?" Then for a moment a bewildered look seemed
to control her, when, brightly smiling again through her tears, she
said: "Oh, how silly I am; soon we will live together again; what is
this brief span of life, compared to an endless eternity? Tell me, Aunt
Mary, did you see Jesus?"
"No, Magdalene, I did not."
"Why, he looked and spake just exactly as when he chided me ten years
ago."
"Oh, dear me, just look at old Peter and the other men back there,
weeping enough to break their necks because they think I am dying. Say,
Peter, come here and tell me what you are weeping for."
"Because you look so heavenly."
"Did you think I looked heavenly when you used to peddle fish?"
"Yes, Magdalene, you looked sweet then, but you was so confounded mean."
She hesitated, and then said, "Why, Peter?"
"Well, Magdalene, you led me right into it, just as you do everyone you
talk with."
Magdalene looked on poor Peter, who seemed to wilt and fade under the
smiling searchlight of the now happy Jewess.
"John," she said quite firmly, "please relieve Aunt Mary by holding me
in your arms while I talk."
When he had taken her she looked in his face and laughingly said,
"Queer, isn't it, John? Once you wanted to love me and I would not let
you, now I want you to love me and you will not."
John choked and sobbed and finally said, "I do love you, Magdalene; we
all love you; the angels love you, and that is why they are waiting to
take you home."
A sweet smile lingered on the swooning beauty's face while John gently
passed his hand over her auburn waves, which seemed to awake her again,
and she said, "Peter, where do you think Jesus is now?"
"I do not know, Magdalene, I am all at sea."
"Peter, he may be right here now and knowing all that we are thinking."
Peter dropped his jaw. Joseph craned his long neck, while Nicodemus,
the disciples and bystanders all leaned forward, to catch, if possible,
from the angel face the last gleam which might swing the gates of death
ajar.
"I know," she continued, "for I have been talking with him."
At this they all drew near, when she said, "His death upon the cross
was natural, simply the separation of himself from his body."
"Has he gone up to heaven, from whence he came?" inquired Joseph.
"Why, Joseph, you are worse than Peter; do you think heaven is up above
the moon?"
"Magdalene, you know what Jesus said when alive--"
"When alive, Joseph; he is alive now and possibly hears every word you
say."
"Be that as it may, Magdalene; he has said from the beginning, 'I came
down from heaven.'"
Magdalene scowled, and with a painful effort bit her lip as she tried
to form a convincing sentence, and then began: "Down in a well and up
on a hill are material positions, while down in hell and up in heaven
are spiritual conditions."
"Think of Jesus as living in a purely spiritual condition and
volunteering to take on humanity and live with us as animals. In that
he came down from on high to that low, hellish animal, condition of
last Friday. And, Joseph, when you thought you were laying Jesus in
your tomb, he was not necessarily there. I know that I was face to face
with Jesus, and there are no scars on his hands or thorns in his brow."
Nicodemus, kneeling beside her, said: "I know you're weary, but can you
answer this--If Jesus was not in his body when he spoke your name, how
did you hear his voice?"
Her ready reply was: "You are not an apt scholar. Do you remember when
you came to Jesus by night, in Bethany, and he explained how one could
be born again? And now you're asking me if a body can talk. I do not
know how to answer you; I know not the secret of animal existence, and
much less that of spiritual life; but this much I do know, that sound
and sight both create impressions. One is silent, the other is not, yet
they are equally distinct. Will power, thought, joy, sorrow, truth are
all noiseless, yet real, so why not suppose all spiritual life be the
same. At the tomb he impressed me that I must see the disciples and see
Ruth before I came home to him. I cannot explain how it was, but I am
sure that Jesus was not in the body, and I do not know as I was."
As she closed her eyes the grizzly counsellor bowed and kissed the
tips of her cold fingers, then one by one the listeners drew nearer in
silence, but she awoke again.
RUTH COMES TO MEET MAGDALENE
When Joseph learned that Magdalene wished to see Ruth he started a
courier on a fleet beast, with orders to take four relays and make sure
to reach Nazareth before sunset.
When they arrived at Nazareth they found all in commotion, for the
report had come that Jesus had raised from the dead; that Mary
Magdalene was dying and had called for Ruth to come to Jerusalem.
Jerome, the tanner, made ready his fleet mule for Ruth, while the men
mounted brisk horses, and soon Ruth, Jude and the guide hastened down
the narrow streets into the open plain and were off on their lone
journey.
As the moon came up from the Sea of Galilee three lone riders silently
sped over the Esdraelon plain, with the fleet little mule on which Ruth
was riding in the lead. Near the renowned city of Nain the guide took
the lead, speeding past Endor, through Shunan and over the Jezreel
plain, while not one word was spoken to break the sad silence of poor
Ruth, whose ashy, tearless face betokened consciousness of approaching
gloom.
Changing horses at Dothan, they continued on through Samaria, past
Jacob's well, and near sunset turned into the gorge called Eden's vale,
where they saw in the distance a group kneeling in the shadows beneath
a clump of olive trees.
JOSEPH'S LAST INTERVIEW
After Joseph had started the courier to Nazareth he provided a litter
with four stalwart men and four relays to carry Magdalene, if possible,
to meet Ruth. He also sent several camels for Mary the mother of Jesus,
and the other women, with an animal each for Nicodemus and John, and
four beasts of burden with attending servants, while the disciples, on
foot, followed the train.
Magdalene, although unable to retain food or stimulants, could talk
with apparent ease, and when informed that Joseph dispatched a courier
for Ruth to come and meet her she said to Joseph, with a roguish
twinkle in her eye, "If you were not so awfully old and I was not so
very near the Golden Gate your proposal would certainly receive deep
consideration," to which Joseph continued the joke by saying, "But I
have one wife, you know."
"Oh, yes, Joseph, I know your faithful wife; and does she scold you as
much as you deserve? I hope she does, for men are so stupid they need
correcting very often. And Joe, are you kind to Hulda, the mother of
your children, and the sweetest dame in Arimathaea, the one who walked
by your side all these years and allowed no one to speak despairingly
of you? You would not allow yourself to love another, were she ever so
young and pretty, would you?"
"Oh, no--no, Magdalene; but tell me, before we part, how you can be so
cheerful, even blithe, in the face of death?"
"Joseph, you, a counsellor, a man of experience, a ruler among the
Jews, ask me to explain that which the children, the song birds of the
morning and the wild gazelle of the plains act out at every turn. They
live in the present, while we live in the past, present and apparent
future. If you knew the future you would not be content to stay. God,
in his wisdom, has drawn the veil of uncertainty between his loved
people and their higher life, but now he has withdrawn that veil from
me. Yesterday, when I supposed Jesus was dead, I feared, I wondered,
I shrank; today I am glad, my soul is filled with glory and I am
impatiently waiting the call; now, do you understand?"
"Because you know that Jesus lives?"
"Yes, Joseph. All through life I knew Jesus as he appeared; now I know
him as he is; yesterday the dark unknown; today beautiful, beautiful
life."
"One more question, Magdalene, before we part; Jesus has gone home and
you are determined to follow; now will his disciples be able to take up
the work where the master has laid it down?"
"Oh, I do not know; as yet, you see, they are such a set of cowards.
Here is my John, whose affection controls his will power; then there is
Peter, whose cranium is like a cocoanut shell, so thick that nothing
can get in and what he knows cannot get out; still, Peter is brave, he
will win at last, he will surely die at his post if necessary. Poor
Judas Iscariot, already in hell before he died. Thomas has not so much
faith as a grain of mustard seed; Philip, like many, is so weak in the
upper story that he actually thinks he understands the whole plan of
salvation. The others, with one exception, are not striking characters,
and yet they would, every one, fight to the end for the cause of Jesus
if they understood him as I do. Oh, that Jesus would manifest himself
to them as he has to me.
"I do not know what will come next; I simply know that this tragedy is
the beginning, and not the end. God cannot be baffled; Jesus has sown
the seed of individual purity, which will spring up somewhere at some
time. If the Jews discover their error and accept him as the Christ,
they will become the spiritual leaders of the world, but if they reject
him the world will reject them and the terrific blow will scatter
them far and wide. But they will turn back; it may be thousands of
years, but they will turn back. Abraham will not forget his children;
Moses yet lives and he will lead them home. The Gentiles will cease to
persecute and all will be lambs of one fold. Good-bye, Joseph, you've
done all you could and we will meet again tomorrow, just tomorrow,
Joseph; we will all arrive home."
MAGDALENE'S LAST NIGHT WITH JOHN
Gentle hands carried Magdalene's wasted form over the Judean hills,
camping for the night near Bethel. She, being troubled for breath,
chose to rest on a litter beneath a wide, spreading olive tree rather
than accept the hospitality of the large tent Joseph had sent for them.
After the usual nursing, and she had been bolstered up with huge
cushions, she was able to talk, and again became buoyant.
Nicodemus, Mary and John each volunteered to sit by her side, but she
chose John, saying: "Aunt Mary, you must rest or we shall be compelled
to procure an ambulance for you; and you, Nicodemus, look as pale as
a ghost; you go and get a little rest also, for tomorrow will be an
eventful day. As for you, John, I want you to prop yourself up and hold
my hands all night, then I will think we are children again."
After an hour's rest she opened wide her large, hazel eyes and
laughingly said, "Tell me, John, exactly what you were thinking about."
John hesitated.
"Spit it out, John; if it's funny all the better, for all the sadness
about this scene is that you must stay to fight the world after I have
gone home."
"Well, Lena, I was thinking about the first time we met."
"Yes, John, so was I, we were twelve years old; I know exactly what
you want to tell; it's about my refusal before your proposal; now go
ahead."
"You remember," began John seriously, "that we first met at the yearly
fish-fry which was always on the south shore of Galilee. Oh, Magdalene,
you tell it; I cannot."
"Go right on," she said, her eyes sparkling with delight.
"Well, your aunt and my mother were great friends, you know, and that
was what brought us young ones together while eating our fish. I can
see you just as you was then; you had on a new wine-colored gown, silk
stockings, tiny sandals and your hair was loose over your shoulders.
You remember, mother fixed me up smart; being tall, I really looked
more than I was, so we made it up to sly away from the common young
hopefuls and go strolling down the river, where, after while, we sat
down on the bank to watch the little fish who live in shore, and you
began--"
"No, you began--"
"No, you began, Lena."
"Well, have it your way, John; go on."
"You, Lena, began to talk about--you see, I did not know you then as I
do now."
"Go right on, John, or I shall have a kaniption."
"Yes, you began to talk about people getting married young, very young,
and sometimes, when there were objections, people ran away together.
Then we told our ages, and it turned out that you were one day older
than I, when you sprang to your feet and said: 'There, John, the jig is
up, for I positively will not marry a man younger than myself!'"
"And you began to cry."
"No, Lena, I did not."
"What did you do?"
"Oh, not much."
"Much; you dared me to--"
"No, you dared me."
"No, you dared me, John."
"Now, Lena, you dared me to kiss you and I did."
"Then I suppose you went right home and told your mother."
"Told mother; I should say not. You made me promise never to tell. Why,
Lena, are you in pain?"
"Only my heart, John--Oh, if Ruth was here."
The frail creature half closed her eyes, her lips parted, and John
thought she was going, but when he called Nicodemus she opened them
again and smiled and told Nicodemus to go to his rest.
After a few moments she seemed to come back again and said, "Oh, John,
is Heaven really so near?" Then she seemed to become a child again, and
said, "Tell me something inspiring; it rests me. Do not weep, John; you
promised to be brave; now go on and tell me about Pipe and his dog.
Tell it just as though you were telling it to someone else and I was
not listening."
John hesitated, wiped away the tears, kissed her cold cheek and when
she insisted, began, "Mary Magdalene came over from Nazareth when she
was twelve years old, and by the time she was fifteen she had become
the most notorious maid that graced the west shore of Galilee. She had
staunch friends, who would go through fire and water to protect her--"
"And you were one?"
"Certainly I was, for she was pretty, neat, witty and wonderful in a
case of emergency. She made some enemies; for while nothing was too
good for those she loved, so there was no letup on her dislikes."
"Why did so many hate her, John?"
"Oh, she was well dressed and attractive, which was more than her
female companions could stand; and then, while she was upright and
generous, she was reserved and often imprudent, to that extent that
when irritated she bridled not her tongue."
"Not even for you?"
"Oh, I was an exception."
"So you were, John; go on."
"Old Pipe the potter had, besides a large family of children, a white
pet dog, and for a joke this maid from Nazareth formed a compact with
one John, the brother of James--"
"Where is that John now?"
"Keep quiet, Lena, or you will get me to weeping again and spoil the
story. She and John caught the dog and hid him in the cellar of John's
home, and a day or so after Magdalene started a rumor that she had seen
something white floating in the lake, south of Tiberias, which looked
like that dog. Old Pipe at once accused her of stealing and drowning
his dog, but after an all day, fruitless search, she and John loosed
the dog and sent him home. Somehow the joke got out, and old Pipe rent
his garments and swore vengeance on the Sidehill Whirlwind. On the
street, one day, he began to upbraid her, when she turned upon him with
something she had heard her Aunt Susie tell about his family affairs
which closed him up like a clam--had you not better rest again, Lena?"
"No, John, go on; I'm in no pain, only those spells of suffocation. I
want you to tell this so you will remember I love you when I am gone."
Nicodemus now appeared with his cup, which revived her, and John
continued, "When our Fall Gaily Day came on all the country around
flocked to the Lake to see the fun; Jesus, James and Ruth came over
from Nazareth."
"Yes, I remember; they stayed with Aunty and me, and Ruth stayed a week
or more."
"Well, there were all kinds of sports and games, foot and horse racing,
singing, dancing, etc., and then such a dinner as we had.
"Everybody wanted to see Magdalene run, and the best that could be done
was to match the Sidehill Whirlwind with one of the Mur girls, a fleety
family who lived on the hills in Safed. The Whirlwind gave the Mur girl
twenty paces the start in a two hundred pace race, but she told her
aunt and John's mother she feared Miss Mur had too great an advantage
for her to ever overtake her.
"When the race was called and the word given, John remembers just how
Lena looked, with her head thrown back, coming down the line just like
a shooting star, when old Zerna, the fig peddler, attempted to cross
the way and Magdalene's knee collided with the side of her head. The
old woman spun around and around like a top as Magdalene fell on her
hands and knees, but recovered in time to win."
"Did she win fair?"
"Oh, I guess it was about a draw, for the timekeeper told John's father
the next day that he rather favored the Whirlwind because the old fig
woman got in her way.
"When the boat race was coming off the men gathered south along the
shore to get a better view of the maneuvers, while the women and
children stood on the landings at Capernaum. John, Mary Magdalene and
several other young folks had climbed to the roof of a house when they
heard the cry that old Pipe's child had fallen into the water and was
drowning. A cry went up for a fisherman to save the child, but all the
men were down toward Tiberias.
"When our group from the housetop arrived we could see the little boy's
white garments at the bottom, under two fathoms of water. Instantly,
Mary Magdalene plunged down head foremost and brought the little one up
in her arms, and as no one could reach it she somehow held it out of
the water and swam to the little sand beach just south of Capernaum.
Old Pipe arrived on the scene just as she was wading ashore with the
child and, falling on his knees, began imploring her to forgive him for
all he had injured her, but instead she handed him the struggling child
as she indignantly said: 'Take your little brat, it is not to blame for
having a contemptible father.'
"After a change to dry clothes the naughty maid hunted up old Pipe and
forgave him all, so that was how they became fast friends, and she, of
course, became the heroine of the day."
Thus, the last night of her life, Magdalene listened to reminiscences
of naughty pranks and sweet affections of childhood's sunny hours.
LAST GOOD-BYE
At sunrise, after assuring Magdalene that Ruth was on the way from
Nazareth, the little group took up their weary journey, moving north
until they descended into a deep valley where a clear stream from
the hills meanders through the woody dell which was called by the
patriarchs, Eden's Vale.
Here Magdalene implored them to stay and bathe her parched lips and
fevered brow in the cool waters from the hills of Shiloh. Soon she fell
into a doze from whence she, at intervals, would awake and call for
John, and inquire if Ruth was near. So the day wore on, her breathing
growing more faint. Twice she ceased to breathe, then came back again
and smiled.
Lastly she opened wide her eyes, pressed John's hand to her lips, then
softly settled back in silence, just as two dusty riders came around
the bend, at once recognized as Ruth and Jude.
Ruth swung from her horse and ran to where she could see her; then,
thinking she was dead, moved softly forward, and kneeling by her side
kissed her lips, at which she came back, opened her eyes and smiled.
"Lena, oh Lena, my dear, what can I do to save your life."
"Ruth, darling Ruth, I have lingered all the day to love you once more
and tell you I am not dying. Just going home, where I will love you
still, and when the evening shadows fall and you go wandering into the
grove think of me as with you. Oh, Ruth, I will come so near that
you will feel my presence in your soul. My darling girl, banish every
thought of death and bare your bosom to the storms of life until the
angel comes to call you home. Oh, sister dear, if you could only know
my feelings now, in this strange scene that you call death. The sting
of all life's troubles are more than repaid in these passing moments of
tranquil bliss, and yet some scenes have been so sad. I pleaded with
all my soul before Caiaphas, but his heart was hardened; they went
their way. They nailed him to the cross and then the sun grew dim and
the world became cold. But while I waited at the tomb a form appeared,
and it was Jesus, who told me that your faith was weak and I must
comfort you now, as you had me in days gone by."
"Did Jesus speak to you after he was dead?"