ST. LUKE XXII. 19 437
When I muse upon the Blest
Who have left me for their rest,
When the solitary heart
Weeps within itself apart,
When all thoughts and longings fail
E'en to touch the dark thin veil
Hanging motionless to screen
That fair place we have not seen;
Then I bless the Friend who left,
For the traveller bereft,
First, the Promise to His own,
" Thou shalt be where I am gone ;
Thou, when I return to reign,
Shalt be brought with me again " ;
Then, the sacramental Seal
Of their present, endless weal;
Of Himself, the living Bond
'Twixt us here and them beyond;
And of all the joys that burn
Eound the hope of His Eeturn:
'Tis the Feast of Heaven and Home —
"Do ye this, until He come."^
3. But the memory of Christ is the memory of more than His beautiful and gracious human life. It is the memory of One who through that life revealed God ; of One, who said, " I do not stand before you alone, and speak to you by My own wisdom merely. One is with Me — one whom you know not — even God, God whom you must know, whom you must love, through know- ledge and love of whom your souls must live ; and whom, that you may know Him, I have come to reveal to you, and that you may love Him, I have come to reveal to you as your Father who loves you, who forgives all your trespasses, who calls you into fellowship with Himself." His memory is the memory of One who brought these glad tidings to men. They are glad tidings, in the know- ledge of which we have been so trained, within the sound of which we have so habitually lived, that we cannot understand their fresh full life for those to whom they were a new revelation.
^ We live and move amid the glory and beauty of God's fair world — in the clear air of heaven and the bright shining of the sun on high, and we never think of the priceless blessings of the
^ H. C. G. Moule, In the House of the Pilgrimage, 64.
438 IN REMEMBRANCE
blowing wind and the joyous sunshine, or of the loss that would be ours were we to be shut up from these in silence and darkness. But bring out the captive from the dungeon, where the air is thick and the light pale, and set him on the mountain's brow, and he is unconscious almost of all else, save the glory and freedom of the wind and light. And so, could we whom use has hardened but transport ourselves for one hour from the society of men whose life, whether they will or not, is moulded by the principles of the revelation of Clirist — from the atmosphere of a Christian land, from the knowledge of all Christian truth, from the ofi&ces of all Christian charity, from the neighbourhood of all Christian law, and custom, and culture — to a land where the name of Christ has never been heard, where the principles of His Church have never had even the feeblest recognition, where the Christian idea of God is utterly unknown, we should be able, in some sort, to realize the sense of light and liberty and confidence which must have filled the hearts of those who, waking from " the foul dream of heathen night," or quitting the oppressive rites and ordinances of the Jewish Law, came into the presence of the Messenger of God, who said, " God is your Father. He is in Me, and I am in Him. You see Him revealed in Me. He loves you with an ever- lasting love. Believe this, and your soul shall live." ^
4. How then are we to keep alive the remembrance of Christ ? There is only one way that is entirely worthy, and that is to illustrate the noble spirit of the Sacrament in loving service. The best way to honour the memory of those we love is to live lives which they would approve. We are to interpret to the world the sacrifice of Christ by giving ourselves for others in some such way as He gave Himself for us. We best honour the memory of our dead soldiers by making the noblest use of the heritage which they purchased with their blood. Our praise would be hollow if we were false to our country and made merchandise of liberty and patriotism. We best honour the memory of Christ by exempli- fying His spirit in our daily conduct.
^ Our Master was most human in the Upper Eoom, and with His last wish suggests irresistibly a mother's farewell. She does not remind her children that she has done all things for them at sore cost, for this was her joy. Nor does she make demands of hard service now any more than in the past. But one thing the mother hungereth and thirsteth for, and desire th not with words only but with her eyes as she looketh round on those she can no
^ R. H. Story, Creed and Conduct, 114.
ST. LUKE XXII. 19 439
longer serve, but will ever love. " Do not forget me " — how few and short the words, how full and strong are they written out at large. " Live as I would wish, believe as I have believed ; meet me where I go." ^