AT THE FEET OF THE APOSTLES.
To Anna, in the house of Mary, there had come peace.
When she had awakened from the death-like swoon in which she had sunken
at the feet of Caiaphas, to find herself alone, she scarce knew at first
what had befallen her. But memory, too faithful, repeated to her
shrinking soul the words which had struck at the very fountain of life;
she turned them over dully in her mind, "As I would cut off my right
hand, should it become polluted beyond cleansing, so also will I sever
thee from my life."
"How can that be," she thought, staring at the light branches of a rose
tree that swayed from the trellis above her head; the sun struck vivid
sparks of emerald fire from its translucent leaves, the breeze shook a
full-blown blossom, and a handful of the odorous petals fell upon her
face. She inhaled their fragrance as in a dream of pain.
"So I will sever thee from my life," she repeated, looking at the
shattered rose. "Ah, it can never bloom again!"
And with the thought came a sudden frightful realization of what had
happened. She sprang up and looked wildly about her. "I must find him!
It cannot, cannot be!" Then she sank feebly upon her knees beside the
bench, and buried her face in her hands.
Is it for naught that misery instinctively assumes this attitude? Nay,
rather, it is a divine impulse of the suffering soul, a blind and
voiceless feeling after a hand in the darkness. And the hand is always
there.
To Anna thus bowed there came at length the thought of God, of Jesus,
the all-Comforter; of Stephen, his dark eyes full of loving light; of
Mary, the mother of Jesus, like herself, desolate. And presently, though
she scarce knew why, she grew quite calm and strong. She arose. "I
will go," she said aloud, "to them; they will tell me what I must do."
And so it was that she came to the house of John, the beloved disciple,
where abode Mary, whom the dying Lord had given into his keeping, and
with them Peter, and Andrew his brother, also Stephen.
"I am desolate," she said humbly, "for my husband hath cast me off,
because I believe that the crucified Jesus is the Messiah of Israel."
"Then art thou welcome here," said the master of the house, gravely.
But Mary fell on her neck and kissed her, and she wept with her, because
she knew that tears are healing, if only they be wiped away by the hand
of God.
And so, after many days, there came to her peace; nay, more, there came
joy. Involuntarily songs broke from her lips, lips for many years
silent; she smiled often even when alone, for a strange delight filled
her soul, her deep eyes shone like stars.
Stephen saw the change in her and he rejoiced.
"The Lord is with thee, mother of my Titus," he said, tenderly.
"I scarce know why I am so happy," she replied. "Is it meet that I
should rejoice when my son is dead, and when I am more desolate than a
widow?"
"It is the gift of him who sitteth at the right hand of the Father,"
said Stephen. "Did he not say, 'Peace I leave with you, my peace I give
unto you. Not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart
be troubled, neither let it be afraid.' And this good word of peace he
left with his chosen ones on the very night before his death. The world
cannot give peace in the midst of sorrow, but he can, and he hath given
it unto thee, beloved. And thou dost rejoice, and thy joy shall no one
take from thee."
"But my husband?" said Anna eagerly.
"Ask the Lord that it may be granted unto him to see the truth. I will
also ask, then shall it be done for us according to his promise which
cannot fail."
"And he will again love me?"
"Love is the fulfilling of the law," said Stephen, smiling. "He will
again love thee, and the love that he hath had is as nothing to that God
will give him, for God is love, and he is also the all-giver. All love
is from God, and without it would the world fall from its place in the
heavens into the darkness which is outside of love--if indeed there be
any place where the light of God doth not penetrate." He paused, and
looked thoughtfully away into the sunset, as if he would pierce with his
longing gaze beyond the gold and the crimson to that place where dwelt
the risen Lord.
The days went swiftly in this new life, for none were idle. Indeed,
there was never a company of folk since the world began into whose lives
crowded more of service, of love, of joy. The sick, the unhappy, the
poor from all the city and the country round about came for healing,
cheering, help; nor was any turned away. The disciples were ever
mindful of the word of their Lord, "Freely ye have received, freely
give." They remembered also with awe how he had washed their feet on
that last night before he was betrayed. So there was no service too
lowly, no labor too arduous for them to undertake in the strength of
their new joy.
"Did he not say unto us," said Peter, his face glowing with divine
enthusiasm, "'As the Father hath sent me into the world, even so send I
you?'"
To be a Christian in these days meant simply to live as Christ had
lived. And so the women were busy from dawn until evening in fashioning
garments for them that had none; in preparing the simple food, which
they ate from house to house with gladness and singleness of heart,
every meal a memorial feast of him who had gone to prepare a place for
them in the heavens. And the men, in proclaiming the amazing tidings of
salvation from sin in a world given over to sin, of joy in a world
wherein was weeping and pain and woe, of peace in the midst of strife,
of a great light that had shined in the darkness. It was so real, so
wonderful, so new. They had not read of these things in an ancient
book. They had not heard them with cold dead ears 'as a tale that is
told,' but they had seen the Lord living and walking among them; they
had seen him upon the cross; they had seen him in the tomb dead--his
hands and feet torn with the cruel nails. And they had also seen him
alive again and received into the glories of a visible heaven. Upon
their heads had the pentecostal flames rested, and they beheld their
mortal bodies endowed with divine powers. Little wonder then that they
rejoiced, little wonder that a holy fear came upon every soul and that
they had favor with all the people. Yet for our comfort is it written
that the Lord once said unto Thomas, "Because thou hast seen me thou
hast believed; blessed are they that have not seen and yet have
believed."
Now because very many that were poor came to the disciples to be fed,
and because the apostles had now no time for fishing, being made fishers
of men as the Lord had promised, and for the reason that then as now no
one can live in the world without money, they asked of the Lord
concerning this thing, as indeed they still asked about all things just
as when he was on the earth. And it became very clear to them what they
must do. And they did it in all simplicity and singleness of heart.
They that had lands or houses sold them, and brought the price of the
things that were sold and laid them down at the apostles' feet, and
distribution was made unto every man according as he had need, so that
there should no longer be among them any that was rich, for had not the
Lord said to the young ruler, "Go sell what thou hast and give to the
poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven," and also, "How hardly
shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God." And because
they thought much about heaven in those days and because they longed to
enter into the kingdom, it was not hard for some of the rich to do this.
Their possessions were as nothing to them compared with the riches which
God was giving so freely.
"He is the same yesterday, to-day and forever." And alas! humanity is
the same yesterday and to-day, but thank God for the to-morrow, which
shall also be forever, when we shall be like him!
There was in Jerusalem a certain man named Ananias, and he was married
to a woman called Sapphira. They had heard the preaching of Peter and
they believed, and came and joined themselves to the church. They were
rich people and owned land outside the city. Now when others who had
possessions sold them and brought the money to lay at the apostles'
feet, they were ill pleased.
"Why should this be?" said Ananias to his wife. "If we give a tithe of
what is ours is not that all that the law demands?"
"It is unjust," declared Sapphira, "we also shall be beggars if we do
this thing, besides it hath been told me that the scribes and elders
have the intent to crush these apostles as well as all that believe; for
myself I have no mind to be stoned."
"Let us withdraw then."
"Nay, not so, for God is with these men as also thou hast seen," said
Sapphira. "And if the Master presently come back from heaven--as indeed
they all expect--he will establish a kingdom here in Jerusalem, and it
must not chance that we be found on the wrong side when that shall come
to pass."
"They do not demand that we sell our lands," said Ananias, knitting his
brows thoughtfully. "Let us be prudent and reserve our possessions till
we shall see what is going to befall."
"Only this morning Joses brought money and laid it down at the apostles'
feet," said Sapphira. "He hath sold every cubit of his farm in the hill
country. They know that we also have lands," she added fretfully, "and
they expect that we will do the same. There are already five thousand
persons in the church, and very few among them own earth enough to be
buried in."
"It is a hard case," whined Ananias, "if honest, industrious folk must
give up all that they have to beggars. They will devour it up like
grasshoppers; as for us who have given it, what shall we have for a time
of adversity, or for our old age?"
"What indeed?" echoed his wife. "But we must do something or we shall
be talked about. What if--" and she lowered her voice to a whisper--"we
sell the land, and also freely tell of the matter, but of the price that
is received we will give a part only, the remainder we will bestow in
safety till we shall ourselves have need of it."
"Thou art a prudent woman!" cried her husband. "I know a man who will
give me a good price for the land."
"Go then and sell, but let no one know of the amount which thou
receivest. That shall be secret betwixt the two of us. The man Peter
shall suppose that we have given all, even as did Joses."
So Ananias went and sold the land and he received for it a goodly sum.
Which the two took secretly and buried in the earth, keeping out a part
only; this the woman laid in her lap.
"It is a great sum," she said, looking regretfully at the pieces of
silver. "With it we might buy fine raiment for ourselves; or I might
put them upon a string for my neck, I have no necklace."
"Spoken like a woman, and therefore foolishly," said Ananias, lifting a
handful of the coins and letting them slip through his fingers one by
one. "For my part I should buy a vineyard. One could then have an
abundance of wine."
"Neither of these things can be," said Sapphira with a sigh. "We must
give it, else when the Messiah shall come, the man Peter will say,
'These people having land sold it, but gave no part to us;' then the
Messiah will give us neither place nor power."
"Suppose he comes not?" said the man doggedly.
"We shall at least stand well with the apostles and the rest. They be
all prating of the generosity of Joses to-day. 'Such a man! So holy!'
they cry. To-morrow they shall speak of us also; what we shall give
will be much more than his paltry bit of silver." And the woman tossed
her head.
"Well, I will give it."
"But do not let them know about the other," whispered Sapphira.
"Thou mayest trust me for that!" said the man with a harsh laugh.
On the morrow, when all were gathered together according to their
custom, came Ananias bringing the money--Sapphira remaining at home to
guard the buried treasure; and he laid down the silver at the feet of
Peter, saying, "I have sold my lands for the service of the Lord, and
here is all the price of them."
And the people looked at the money which he had laid down, and they
marvelled at his generosity, saying one to another, "Joses truly was
righteous, but this man hath brought a greater sum than he."
But Peter fixed his inspired eyes upon the giver. He read his soul. And
he said to him: "Ananias, why hath Satan filled thine heart to lie to
the Holy Spirit, and keep back part of the price of the land? Whilst it
remained was it not thine own? And after it was sold, was it not in
thine own power? Why hast thou conceived this thing in thine heart? Thou
hast not lied unto men, but unto God."
And when Ananias heard these words, it was as though the light of God
had been flashed into his soul. A fierce agony fell upon him. He saw
clearly what he was, and what God was; and because this may not be
endured by a mortal, he fell down at the feet of the apostle dead. He
had passed into the presence of that Love which is also a consuming
fire.
And the young men arose, wound up his body in grave clothes, and carried
it away. And it was about the space of three hours after when his wife,
not knowing what was done, came in. And Peter said to her, "Tell me
whether ye sold the land for fifty shekels?"
And she said, "Yes, for fifty shekels."
Then Peter said unto her, "How is it that ye have agreed together to
tempt the Spirit of the Lord? Behold! the feet of them which buried thy
husband are at the door, and shall carry thee out."
Then fell she down straightway at his feet and expired, and the young
men came in and found her dead, and carrying her forth, buried her by
her husband. And great fear came upon all the church, and upon as many
as heard these things.