The Home Council

In My Soul I Am Free

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for a hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone, that soar above,
Enjoy such liberty.

—Richard Lovlace.

Jesus Before The High Priest

The High Priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and about his teaching.

“For my part,” answered Jesus, “I have spoken to all the world openly. I always taught in some Synagogue, or in the Temple Courts, places where all the Jews assemble, and I never spoke of anything in secret. Why question me? Question those who have listened to nge as to what I have spoken about to them. They must know what I said.”

When Jesus said this, one of the police-officers, who was standing near, gave him a blow with his hand.

“Do you answer the High Priest like that?” he exclaimed.

“If I said anything wrong, give evidence about it,” replied Jesus; “but if not, why do you strike me? “

Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas the High Priest.

Meanwhile Simon Peter was standing there, warming himself; so they said to him:

“Are not you also one of his disciples? “

Peter denied it.

“No, I am not,” he said.

One of the High Priest’s servants, a relation of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, exclaimed:

“Did not I myself see you with him in the garden?”

Peter again denied it; and at that moment a cock crowed.

—John.

Brotherliness Of The Open Road

Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons,
It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.
Here a great personal deed has room.
(Such a deed seizes upon the hearts of the whole race of men,
Its effusion of strength and will overwhelms law and mocks all authority and all argument against it.)
Here is the test of wisdom,
Wisdom is not finally tested in schools,
Wisdom cannot be passed from one having it to another not having it,
Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof,
Applies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content,
Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the excellence of things;
Something there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes it out of the soul.
Now I re-examine philosophies and religions,
They may prove well in lecture-rooms, yet not prove at all under the spacious clouds and along the landscape and flowing currents.
Here is realisation,
Here is a man tallied—he realises here what he has in him,
The past, the future, majesty, love—if they are vacant of you, you are vacant of them.

—Walt Whitman.

Where Angels Work

Immediately afterwards the Spirit drove Jesus out into the wilderness; and he was there in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan, and among the wild beasts, while angels ministered to him.

—Mark.

Useless Worry

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

—Henry W. Longfellow.

Alternate Reading: Acts 28:17-31.

The Culture Of The Cross

Jesus Himself remains for ever the convincing illustration of the culture of the Cross. His rejection by a wicked generation and the outrages heaped upon Him seemed an unredeemed calamity to His disciples. His undeserved and accumulated trials were at times a burden almost too great for Jesus’ own soul. But He entered into their meaning before the end, because they were bringing His humanity to the fulness of perfection. Without His cross Jesus had been poorer in the world this day and might have been unloved. It was suffering that wrought in Him that beauty of holiness, sweetness of patience, wealth of sympathy, and grace of compassion, which constitute His divine attraction, and are seating Him on His throne.

Once when the cloud fell on Him, He cried, “Father, save me from this hour”; when the cloud lifted, Jesus saw of the travail of His soul—” I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me.” In the upper room Jesus was cast down for an instant; then Iscariot went out to arrange for the arrest, and Jesus revived at the sight of the cross: ” Now is the Son of Man glorified.” Two disciples are speaking of the great tragedy as they walk to Emmaus, when the Lord joins them and reads the riddle of His life. It was not a disaster: it was a design. “Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory?” The perfection of Jesus was the fruit of the cross.

“Thou must go without, go without—that is the everlasting song which every hour all our life through hoarsely sings to us”—is the profound utterance of a great teacher; but Jesus has said it better in His commandment of self-abnegation and His offer of the cross.

Jesus nowhere commanded that one cling to His cross, He everywhere commanded that one carry His cross, and out of this daily crucifixion has been born the most beautiful sainthood from St. Paul to St. Francis, from a Kempis to George Herbert. For there is no salvation of the soul nor hope of everlasting life but in the cross.

—John Watson.

Alternate Reading: Acts 28:1-16.

God’s Garden Of Gethsemane

In golden youth, when seems the earth
A summer land of singing mirth,
When souls are glad and hearts are light
And not a shadow lurks in sight,
We do not know it, but there lies,
Somewhere veiled under evening skies,
A garden all must sometime see—
The garden of Gethsemane.

With joyous steps we go our ways;
Love lends a halo to our days,
Light sorrows sail like clouds afar.
We laugh and say how strong we are!
We hurry on, and, hurrying go
Close to the borderland of woe
That waits for you, and waits for me,
Forever waits—Gethsemane.

Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams,
Bridged over by our broken dreams,
Behind the misty caps of years,
Beyond the great salt fount of tears
The garden lies. Strive as you may,
You cannot miss it in your way.
All paths that have been or may be,
Pass somewhere through Gethsemane.

All those who journey, soon or late.
Must pass within the garden’s gate;
Must kneel alone in darkness there,
And battle with some fierce despair.
God pity those who cannot say
“Not mine but Thine”: who only pray
“Let this cup pass,” and cannot see
His purpose in Gethsemane.

—Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

All soil is sacred by the dust of the dead and all air is hallowed by the living presence of our unseen friends.

Alternate Reading: Acts 27:1-44.

The Arrest Of Jesus

So Judas, who had obtained the soldiers of the Roman garrison, and some police-officers from the Chief Priests and the Pharisees, came there with lanterns, torches, and weapons. Jesus, aware of all that was coming upon him, went to meet them, and said to them:

“For whom are you looking? “

“Jesus of Nazareth,” was their answer.

“I am he,” said Jesus.

(Judas, the betrayer, was also standing with them.) When Jesus said “I am he,” they drew back and fell to the ground. So he again asked for whom they were looking, and they answered: “Jesus of Nazareth.”

“I have already told you that I am he,” replied Jesus, “so, if it is for me that you are looking, let these men go.”

This was in fulfilment of his words—”Of those whom thou hast given me I have not lost one.”

At this, Simon Peter, who had a sword with him, drew it; and struck the High Priest’s servant, and cut off his right ear. The servant’s name was Malchus. But Jesus said to Peter:

“Sheathe your sword. Shall I not drink the cup which the Father has given me?”

So the soldiers of the garrison, with their commanding officer and the Jewish police, arrested Jesus and bound him, and took him first of all to Annas.

—John.

When Jesus Met Despair

Jesus met the spirit of despair in the Garden of Gethsemane; and after the meeting, the cross had no terrors for Him, because He had already endured them; the grave no fear, because He had already conquered it How calm and gentle was the voice with which He wakened His disciples, how firm the step with which He went to meet Judas! The bitterness of death was behind Him in the shadow of the olive-trees. The peace of Heaven shone above Him in the silent stars.

—Henry Van Dyke.

Jesus In Gethsemane

Then Jesus came with them to a garden called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples:

“Sit down here while I go and pray yonder.”

Taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebediah, he began to show signs of sadness and deep distress of mind.

“I am sad at heart,” he said, “sad even to death; wait here, and watch with me.”

Going on a little further, he threw himself on his face in prayer.

“My Father,” he said, “if it is possible, let me be spared this cup; only, not as I will, but as thou willest.”

Then he came to his disciples, and found them asleep.

“What!” he said to Peter, “could none of you watch with me for one hour? Watch and pray, that you may not fall into temptation. True, the spirit is eager, but human nature is weak.”

Again, a second time, he went away, and prayed.

“My Father,” he said, “if I cannot be spared this cup, but must drink it, thy will be done!”

And coming back again he found them asleep, for their eyes were heavy. So he left them, and went away again, and prayed a third time, again saying the same words.

Then he came to the disciples, and said:

“Sleep on now, and rest yourselves. Hark! my time is close at hand, and the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of wicked men. Up, and let us be going. Look! my betrayer is close at hand.”

—Matthew.

Into The Woods My Master Went

Into the woods my Master went,
Clean forspent, forspent.
Into the woods my Master came,
Forspent with love and shame.
But the olives they were not blind to him;
The little gray leaves were kind to Him;
The thorn-tree had a mind to Him
When into the woods He came.

Out of the woods my Master went,
And He was well content.
Out of the woods my Master came,
Content with death and shame.
When Death and Shame would woo Him last,
From under the trees they drew Him last:
‘Twas on a tree they slew Him last,
When out of the woods He came.

—Sidney Lanier.

“He was a friend to man, and he lived
In a bouse by the side of the road.”

—Homer.

The House By The Side Of The Road

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran—
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by—
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner’s seat,
Or hurl the cynic’s ban—
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I see from my house by the side of the road,
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan—
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice,
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road—
It’s here the race of men go by.
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong.
Wise, foolish—so am I;
Then why should I sit in the scorner’s seat,
Or hurl the cynic’s ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

—Sam Walter Foss.

Alternate Reading: Acts 28:1-32.

Cleon And I

Cleon hath a million acres, not a one have I;
Cleon dwelleth in a palace, in a cottage I;
Cleon hath a dozen fortunes, not a penny I;
Yet the poorer of the twain is Cleon, and not I.

Cleon, true, possesses acres, but the landscape I;
Half the charm to me it yieldeth money cannot buy,
Cleon harbors sloth and dullness, freshening vigor I;
He in velvet, I in fustian, richer man am I.

Cleon is a slave to grandeur, free as thought am I;
Cleon fees a score of doctors, need of none have I;
Wealth-surrounded, care-environed, Cleon fears to die;
Death may come, he’ll find me ready, happier man am I.
Cleon sees no charm in nature, in a daisy I;
Cleon hears no anthems ringing in the sea and sky;
Nature sings to me forever, earnest listener I;
State for state, with all attendants, who would change? Not I!

—Charles Mackay.

The World My Fatherland

I am not the native of a small corner only; the whole world is my fatherland.

—Seneca.

The whole world is a man’s birth-place.

—Statius.

Alternate Reading: Acts 25:13-37.

The Prayer Of Jesus

After saying this, Jesus raised his eyes heavenwards, and said:

“Father, the hour has come; honor thy Son, that thy Son may honor thee; even as thou gavest him power over all mankind, that he should give Immortal Life to all those whom thou hast given him. And the Immortal Life is this—to know thee the one true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent as thy Messenger. I have honored thee on earth by completing the work which thou hast given me to do; and now do thou honor me, Father, at thy own side, with the honor which I had at thy side before the world began.

“I have revealed thee to those whom thou gavest me from the world; they were thy own, and thou gavest them to me; and they have laid thy Message to heart. They recognize now that everything that thou gavest me was from thee; for I have given them the teaching which thou gavest me, and they received it, and clearly understood that I came from thee, and they believed that thou hast sent me as thy Messenger. I intercede for them; I am not interceding for the world, but for those whom thou hast given me, for they are thy own—all that is mine is thine, and all that is thine is mine—and I am honored in them. Now I am to be in this world no longer, but they are still to be in the world, and I am to come to thee. Holy Father, keep them by that revelation of thy Name which thou hast given me, that they may be one, as we are.”

—John.

Socrates said he was not an Athenian or a Greek, but a citizen of the world.

—Plutarch.

Raising The Dead

Gird up thy loins, said Elisha to his servant Gehazi (when the Shunamite woman implored him to raise her son to life), and take my staff in thine hand. If any one meet thee, salute him not; but lay this staff on the boy’s face, and his soul will return to him again.

So Gehazi took the prophet’s staff with joy, for he had long been wishing to get hold of it, that he, too, might work a miracle. As he was hurrying along, Jehu called out to him, Whither away so fast, Gehazi? To raise one from the dead, says Gehazi, and here is the staff of the prophet.

Jehu and a curious crowd from all the towns and villages on the way hurried after to see one rise from the dead. Gehazi with great alacrity hurried along, the mob with him, and, entering the Shunamite’s house, he laid the staff on the face of the dead child; but there was neither voice nor movement. He turned the staff about, placed it in different positions, to the right and to the left, above, below; but the child awoke not. Gehazi was confounded, and the mob hooted at him. Ashamed, he returned to the prophet, and said, The boy does not wake up.

The prophet took his staff, hastened to Shunem, entered the house, and closed the door against all spectators. He prayed to the Lord, and then went to the corpse, placed himself on the child, his mouth to the child’s mouth, his eyes to the child’s eyes till the child’s body became warm. With what did he warm the dead to Life? With that silent, humble prayer, and with the breathing of an unselfish, disinterested love. Here, take thy son again, said the prophet to the mother; and the self-seeking, vain Gehazi stood confounded and ashamed.

—The Talmud.

When, in the distant future, the historian searches the world for the most sacred acre known to humanity he will find on it a home.

Alternate Reading: Acts 25:1-12.