New Name

by Grace Livingston Hill

  He hung up with a tolerable feeling of ease. He had done his best, and Murray would likely turn up tonight or in the morning. Of course his mother would rave again if he didn’t come to her bore of a dinner. But then, she always raved about something. It might as well be one thing as another.

  He got up and went to the window, looking out into the dark street, and there came to him a vision of the girl as she had walkedaway, slim and proud. He knew what she was thinking. She was afraid that they thought her one of the girls who ran after Murray. But strange to say, he did not. If he had, he would not have taken the trouble to rebuke Marie when she uttered her impudent remark. Girls who ran after boys were fools. They deserved all they got. But this girl was different. One could see that at a glance; one could tell it by the first word from her gentle lips. She was the kind of a girl who grew up in the country and went to church on Sundays. She had eyes that saw birds and flowers in spring and loved them. He had known such a girl once when he was a boy in the country, and he had been the worst kind of a fool that he did not stay on the farm and marry her and have a big happy home full of loving kindness and children’s voices, and a wide hearth with a big log fire and pancakes for supper. Buckwheat pancakes and maple syrup.

  Deliberately he turned away from the window and walked upstairs to his own back room, where he switched off the light, drew up the shade, and looked out across the back alley to the bright little kitchen window with the table with the snowy cloth. There was a pie on the table tonight, and it looked like an apple pie, with the crust all dusted over with powdered sugar, the kind his mother used to make. There would be cottage cheese with the pie, perhaps. Oh! Someone had come to the window and was closing the blinds. It was the girl! She had taken her hat off and laid it on the corner of the table, and her bright hair gleamed in the light from the streetlamps as she bent her head to release the fastening of the blind. Then she straightened up, pulled the shutters closed with a slam, and shot the bolt across with a click. As if she knew she was shutting him out, and she wanted to do it!

  Chapter 23

  Before Murray could quite take in all that that letter might mean to him, Mrs. Summers knocked on his door.

  “Mr. Murray, Doctor Harrison wants to speak with you on the phone. He tried to get you twice last night before you came in. I forgot to tell you about it—it was so late. Can you come right down? He seems to be in a good deal of a hurry.”

  “Sure! I’ll be there in half a second!” said Murray, springing out of bed and drawing on some garments hastily.

  He hurried down to the telephone.

  The minister’s voice came anxiously to him:

  “Murray, is that you? Well, I’ve been trying to get you. You know your church letter came while you were away at the convention.”

  “Letter?” said Murray, quite innocently, and thought sharply of the letter upstairs. Things were closing in around him. The minister probably had one, too.

  “Yes, your letter. It ought to have reached here sooner, but it seems to have been misdirected and gone around by the dead letter office. However, it got here in time for the season meeting, and I wanted to tell you that we accepted it, of course, and that we are counting you in with the others this morning. There’ll be quite an accession. We would rather have had you present at the session meeting, of course, but it will be all right. There’s really no need. Today is our communion service. You know that, of course. All you need to do is to come forward when your name is called. But I didn’t want to take you unaware.”

  Accession! Come forward when your name is called! What the dickens was the man talking about? He could think of nothing but the astounding situation in which he had placed himself, and that letter upstairs. Then the minister hadn’t gotten one yet. But he would soon. He must prevent anything more. At least he could confess before the whole thing was brought down around his ears.

  “Yes,” he was saying to Doctor Harrison, “yes. That’ll be quite all right with me, Doctor,” and he had not the slightest idea what it was all about. Some collection they were going to take up probably, that they wanted an unusual number of ushers. Well, it would not do any harm for him to do one more thing, but he simply must do something about this right off at once.

  “Doctor Harrison!” he shouted, just as the hurried minister was about to hang up. “I want to have a little talk with you. When can I see you?”

  “Yes?” said the minister anxiously. “Why, not before services, I’m afraid. Suppose we say after service, or perhaps after dinner would be better. We’ll have more time then. Anytime after dinner before Sunday school. I’ll be glad to see you. I have two or three schemes I want you to help me carry through.”

  He turned with a dazed look from the telephone and met Mrs. Summers’ pleasant smile.

  “Mr. Murray, I’ve put your breakfast on a tray, so you can eat while you finish dressing. There isn’t much time, you know. Suppose you just carry it up with you and take a bite and a sip while you comb your hair.”

  He obediently took the tray to his room, but he did not eat anything. His mind was filled with confusion and wondering what he ought to do. One thing became plain to him as he glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost time for church to begin. He had just promised the minister he would officiate at some kind of an affair in the church, and he certainly must be there on time to find out what kind of an ordeal he was to be put through now. But this was the last one of those he would ever endure. Truth for him from now on. After he had talked with the minister and made a clean breast of things, he would clear out. Last week if he had been in these same circumstances, he would have cleared out without waiting for the talk with the minister, but today it was different. Something in him had changed, something that affected his whole life, and he could not somehow even think of running away. Some kind of confession and restitution must be made, so far as he was able, before he could be done with the past.

  He was all in confusion as to what or how it must be done, but he knew that he must stay by the situation and clear it up. It was a part of the self-surrender of the day before.

  He hurried through his shaving and dressing; as he tossed wildly among the collars and neckties that belonged to another man, in the trunk that was not his, he began to wonder about Allan Murray and what he was going to say to him. That he had also to account to him was another settled fact in his mind. The letter that lay facedown on his bed was like the presence of a stranger in the room, something that had to be faced. As a last act before he left the room, he swept his letters into the bureau drawer, took one swallow of coffee, and hurried down to where Mrs. Summers stood waiting for him at the front door.

  “We’re late!” he said anxiously, and there was a strained look around his eyes.

  “The bell is still tolling,” she replied. “We’ll get there before the doxology. You look tired. Did you have a pleasant convention?”

  “It was wonderful!” he said, and then realized that he was not thinking of the convention at all, but of his own experience. It gave him comfort that in the midst of the perplexities that seemed pressing him on every side, he could still thrill to the thought of that experience. It was not just imagination. It was real. It had stayed with him over night! It was his! Whatever came he would have this always, this sense of forgiveness and redemption from the blackness of darkness!

  He escorted Mrs. Summers to her seat, as he had been doing ever since his arrival in Marlborough, and after he had settled himself, he realized that perhaps he ought to have inquired what was wanted of him and where he ought to be when needed. Then he remembered that the minister had said he need do nothing but come forward when his name was called, so he settled back once more and gave attention to the thought of that letter at home in his bureau drawer and what he ought to do about it. All through the opening hymn and prayer he was thinking and praying, Lord, my Lord, my new Lord, show me what to do next!

  Through the anthem and the scripture reading and collection, he kept on with
the same prayer. He roused to the consciousness that the collection was being taken without his aid, and without any apparent need of him, and decided that the minister had not had need of him after all. Or perhaps there was to be a circular or something passed around at the close. That was maybe what he had meant by “letter,” probably a letter from the pastor to the people, a sort of circular.

  Then all at once something took place quite out of the routine of service with which he had come to be familiar since he had been in Marlborough. A white-haired man named McCracken, whose name he had heard spoken with the title of “elder,” though he had never understood what it meant, came forward and began to read names. He had been too much absorbed in his own thoughts to have heard what the minister said beforehand about it. But as the names were read he sat up and gave his attention. This likelywas where he was supposed to come in. He noticed that the people got up and came forward as their names were called, and he wondered what they were supposed to be going to do. He would just watch the others. Perhaps they were to pass those “letters” around, whatever they were, and probably somebody would tell him which aisle they wanted him to take. He would just have to feel his way once more, as he had been doing all these weeks, and get away with the situation, but he resolved that not another day should pass before this sort of thing ended.

  But as the names went on and the people responded, there began to be a strange assortment down there in front of the pulpit. There were young men and maidens, old men, and actually children. Some twenty-five or thirty quite young people came forward; one little boy only ten years old came down the aisle on crutches, with a smiling face and a light in his eyes. Murray wondered why they selected a lame boy to pass things, and such a little fellow! And if they were going to have children do it, why didn’t they have them all children? It would be much more uniform. And there were some women, too. Odd! But they did a great many strange things in this church. Probably there would be some logical explanation of this also when he came to understand it.

  “And from the First Presbyterian Church of Westervelt, Ohio, Mr. Allan Murray—”

  Murray arose with a strange look around the church, a kind of sweeping glance, as if he were in search of somebody. Somehowit seemed to him that perhaps while he sat there the real Allan Murray had entered and might be coming down the aisle, but as his glance came back to the pulpit, Doctor Harrison nodded to his questioning look and seemed to beckon him, and he found himself walking down the aisle and standing with the rest. He did not know what he was about to do, but he had a strange serenity concerning it. He was not going of his own volition. It was as if he were being led. He thought of Saul with scales on his eyes, being led into the street called Straight by his soldiers and companions, and his spirit waited for what was about to happen to him.

  The minister came to the front of the platform and looked down upon them with his pleasant smile. It came to Murray that he stood there to represent God. That was a strange feeling. He had never thought about a preacher in that way before. He had had very little ever to do with ministers. And then the minister spoke, in his strong, kind, grave voice:

  “Friends, you are here to make a profession of your religious faith and enter into an everlasting covenant. We trust you have well considered what you are about to do, and so are prepared to give yourselves away, a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.”

  Murray stared at the minister in wonder. How did the man know that that was what was in his heart? Was it in the hearts of these others? These men and women—and also these little children? He looked about upon them wonderingly. Had the same Spirit drawn them that had touched his heart? He felt asudden burgeoning of interest in them, as if they were newfound brothers and sisters. What a strange thing! That little boy with the turned-up nose and freckles, the red hair that needed cutting, and the collar that was not exactly clean, was his brother. He had been born into a new family. He looked at the boy again and saw something in his face, a wistful, earnest look on the rough little, tough little countenance, and all at once he knew that humanity was the next greatest thing to God. Why had he not known that before? Why had he always thought the only thing worthwhile was having a good name and doing the latest thing that had been heard of? Oh, how he had wasted his time!

  The minister’s voice came into his thoughts just then again.

  “Having examined and assented to our Articles of Faith, you will now profess them before these witnesses.”

  Murray had not examined any Articles of Faith, had not the least idea what they were. He listened intently.

  “We believe in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, the true God.

  “We believe that God has revealed the scriptures as our only infallible rule of faith and practice.

  “We believe that all mankind are by nature lost sinners.

  “We believe that Jesus, the Son, died to atone for sin.

  “We believe that whosoever repents and believes in Jesus will be saved.”

  Ah! thought Murray. That means me!

  “We believe that repentance and faith are the work of the Holy Ghost, showing themselves in forsaking sin and in loving God and man.”

  Oh! thought Murray. That means me again. Was that who did it all for me? The Holy Ghost! And I have never known what that was before! There is a great deal I need to know!

  “We believe,” went on the minister in clear tones, “that the Sabbath is to be kept holy.

  “We believe that Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are both duties and privileges.”

  At that moment Murray noticed for the first time that there was a table down before the pulpit, covered over with a fine white cloth of damask. The Lord’s Supper! A solemn awe seemed to come over the room. It was something like the Holy Grail that he had had to write an essay on in school once.

  “We believe,” went on the minister again, “that there will be a resurrection and judgment, when the wicked shall go away into everlasting punishment, and the righteous into life eternal.”

  Ah! That Judgment Day! Did this change that had come to him mean a difference at the judgment? The born again ones were those whose names were written in that “other book,” he remembered. Then he was one of those!

  “These things you believe?” The minister seemed to be looking straight at him, and he found himself assenting. In his heart he knew that he accepted these things. They were new to him, but he meant to believe them. They were a part of the new world into which he had been born, and of course he believed them.

  “You will now enter into covenant with God and this church.”

  Still the minister was looking at him. He thrilled with the thought of what had been said to him. Enter into a covenant with God!

  “In the presence of God and this assembly, you solemnly embrace the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost as your God forever. You humbly and cheerfully consecrate your entire selves to His glory; to walk in all His commandments, assisted by His Spirit; to maintain private and family prayer; to keep holy the Sabbath; to honor your profession by a life of piety toward God and benevolence toward your fellow man—”

  The solemn vows unfolded before his mind with a newness that was startling, and yet they all seemed natural to him, these vows that he was asked to take.

  He saw the rest of the congregation rise, taking vows to watch over these who had just joined themselves to their number. He wondered how long things like this had been going on, and why he had been so ignorant of them. And then the words of the solemn charge struck deep into his soul:

  “You have now entered into perpetual obligation.” What tremendous words!

  “These vows will abide upon you always. You must now be servants of God. From this day forward the world will take note of your life, to honor or dishonor Christ accordingly.”

  Murray caught his breath and looked around at the people from a new point of view. Then he was responsible for what theythought of him! He was dishonoring Christ his Savior if he did
not walk rightly! Why, it was just a new family whose honor he must regard. His father had berated him often for dishonoring the old name of Van Rensselaer, and bitterly now he knew how he had dishonored it. Strange he had not seen it before, nor cared, nor tried to do differently. He almost trembled at the thought that his life was nothing but dishonor from beginning to end.

  The minister was giving the new members the right hand of fellowship, and as he moved from one to another, taking each one’s hand in a quick warm clasp, he went repeating the Bible, giving each one a verse. Murray listened to them, recognizing them as words of scripture, because for the last few weeks he had heard Mrs. Summers read the Bible every evening. But now he was hearing them as if they were just new and handed down from the Lord that day, for the minister had a way of making a verse of scripture speak to the soul as he repeated it. And when he came to Murray, he grasped his hand and held it and looked straight into his eyes as he said:

  “To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.”

  Murray stood as one transfixed while he heard these remarkable words. That they were sent direct from heaven for him he never could doubt. A new name! That was what he had been searching for. He had sinned and dishonored the old name with which he was born. There had been no hope for him. Then he had found a Savior, and he had been born again with a new name! It was all too wonderful to believe! He wanted to shout in his joy.

  Every one of those new members had verses given them, as wonderful and perhaps fully as fitted to the needs of the special soul, but Murray heard none of them. He was exulting in his own. To him that overcometh! Ah! Could he overcome, now that he was born again?