Now war arose in heaven, Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon; and the dragon and his angels fought, but they were defeated and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him. And I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, “Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brethren has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God. And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death. Rejoice then, O heaven and you that dwell therein! But woe to you, O earth and sea, for the dragon has come down to you in great wrath, because he knows his time is short!
And when the dragon saw that he had been thrown down to the earth, he pursued the woman who had borne the male child…. Then the dragon was angry with the woman, and went off to make war on the rest of her offspring, on those who keep the commandments of God and bear testimony to Jesus. (12:1–13,17)
Then I saw an angel coming down from heaven, holding in his hand the key of the bottomless pit and a great chain. And he seized the dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the Devil and Satan, and bound him for a thousand years, and threw him into the pit, and shut it and sealed it over him, that he should deceive the nations no more, till the thousand years were ended. After that he must be loosed for a little while. (20:1–3)
Hmmmm. Pastor Engstrom says that at Fatima Mary proclaimed that there will be an era of peace before the close of the age. Such a thing could never happen if the devil were still on the loose. But the conditions described here make room for it.
And when the thousand years are ended, Satan will be loosed from his prison and will come out to deceive the nations…. And the devil who had deceived them was thrown into the lake of fire and brimstone where the beast and the false prophet were, and they will be tormented day and night for ever and ever. (20:7–8a,10)
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband; and I heard a great voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling of God is with men. He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be with them; He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
And He who sat upon the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.” Also He said, “Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.” And He said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water without price from the fountain of the water of life. He who conquers shall have this heritage, and I will be his God and he shall be My son….” (21:1–7)
Steve slowly closed the Bible. His mind was reeling. Suddenly he felt very very tired. He folded his hands over the Bible and once again laid his forehead on them. And that is how Mary found him sound asleep when she arrived at 4:45.
XXXIII
How long he had been sleeping she did not know. She saw that he had sipped some of the broth and most of the Seven-Up and had made use of his hospital bottle which she emptied and washed out. He stirred as she set it down next to his chair. He opened his eyes and sat up.
“I’m glad you were able to sleep.”
“I was also able to follow Harold’s trail through the Bible. What a ride that was! He’s right. How could we think we were on the right track by ignoring the evil one when Jesus and the apostles were facing off against him and his minions constantly. And do you know what?”
“What?”
“That was Pastor Engstrom’s message too, based on his almost direct experiences in Africa. It’s why he was so eager to see me. He wanted to fill me in on what he considered a huge gap in the picture of my divine vocation which he gave me in 1920.”
“So now you’ve heard it both from Pastor Engstrom and from Harold. Sounds like the hand of God at work. Do you have any idea where to go from here?”
“Well, this is not totally new to me. In my Reedville address I was forced, almost in spite of myself, to reckon with the evil one. And more recently the Lord’s Prayer struck me in the same way. Now, with Pastor Engstrom’s empirical evidence and Harold’s massive scriptural evidence, I’ll have to go somewhere from here. Right now I feel a very strong urge to go to chapel tomorrow morning. It’s the last one this week and probably my last one ever. Will you help me get there?”
“Of course, Steve. We can work that out.”
“May God show me how to make my last days count for Him somehow when so many of my other days counted against Him.”
“We’ll leave early and get there before classes dismiss.”
With that, Mary helped him out of his chair and into the bathroom where he was able to manage on his own. His legs felt like rubber and the stabbing pains in his abdomen were just tolerable.
“I’ll spend the night in the recliner, Mary,” he said before she shut the bathroom door behind him. “I’ve done that a lot lately.”
While he was in the bathroom, she straightened out his chair and furnished it with an additional blanket and a pillow. Then she waited by the bathroom door to help him back into the recliner. Once he was settled into it, she heated up some broth, putting more salt in it this time at his request, and sat with him until he had consumed all the broth that his body could handle, along with two pills for pain. It was getting dark.
“I want to be alert for tomorrow, Mary. Right now I am feeling quite depleted. Would you mind if I lean back and go to sleep? It won’t bother me at all to have you moving around in the house. In fact, it will be a comfort.”
“Sleep is a good idea. I’ll put a school bell here on the side table. If you need me at any time, just ring it and I’ll come. I’ll move the floor lamp over on the left side of the chair where you can turn it on more easily if you need some light.”
“Thank you, Mary. And will you also put the writing tablet and some pens on the side table within reach? I might just need them, too. And then let’s pray the Lord’s Prayer before you turn out the light.”
Steve’s voice tapered off mid-prayer. His “deliver us from the evil one” was the barest of whispers.
XXXIV
At some point in the night, Steve woke up, turned on the lamp, and jotted down notes on the tablet. They chronicled his odyssey through Harold’s Bible and provided me with much of the contents of Chapter XXXII. There were also some jottings about Pastor Engstrom’s visit which I fleshed out later in an interview with him. He started writing about something else, but his scrawl trailed off mid-sentence as drowsiness overcame him. Mary had heard him fidgeting. Noting that he had fallen back to sleep, she gently leaned him backwards into the recliner and lowered it, placing the contents of his lap on the side table. She turned off the lamp and went back to bed.
At 8:30 the next morning, the sun shining through the east windows reached Steve’s eyes and woke him up. For a few minutes, he lay there bathing in its warmth. He soaked it up and for the first time since his double loss, he actually felt glad to be alive.
Mary, quick to hear the slightest rustle, tiptoed to the archway where she stopped and took in the scene before her—her dying friend reclining in the fresh morning light, a smile as deep and broad as happiness itself transforming his wasted face. Without turning his head, Steve sensed Mary’s presence.
“Good morning, Mary,” he said with some conviction.
“Good morning, Steve. How are you feeling this morning?”
“A little like those two disciples must have felt at the moment when Jesus broke the bread and their eyes were opened.”
“Really!”
/> “And I’m about as eager to get to chapel this morning as they were to get back up to Jerusalem.”
“That’s shouldn’t be a problem. We have an hour before we have to leave.”
An hour later, Dr. Pearson’s old DeSoto pulled up to the curb in front of the chapel. Mary got out of the car on the driver’s side and came around to help Steve get out on the curb side. Leaning on her arm, he inched along the sidewalk to the steps where, grasping the handrail with both hands, he slowly pulled himself to the top. Once there, he grabbed the latch on the heavy door and hung on, wincing in pain. Taking a deep breath, he nodded at Mary who opened the door. From the narthex, it was a simple matter to reach a short pew along the wall in the left rear corner of the spacious nave. He eased himself into it and sat down. Mary leaned over to him as though asking a question. He nodded in return and smiled back at her. Then she went up the nearby steps to a seat in the balcony.
By now, students were trickling into the balcony. Dr. Halverson, the concert choir’s renowned director and son of the choir’s founder, was surveying these students. This would be a treat. The concert choir rarely sang for chapel.
XXXV
The bell rang, dismissing classes. Within minutes, students were pouring down the aisles. An usher, one of Dr. Pearson’s students, noticed him sitting in the corner pew and gave him a bulletin, displaying no little astonishment as he did so. The bulletin was plain, a folded sheet of paper. There was a bold woodcut of a crucifix on the front, with Mary and John standing at the foot of the cross. When bulletins were distributed at chapel, it usually meant that there would be no sermon or meditation. Led by the campus pastor, the focus would rather be on prayer by word and music and on the Word of God, with periods of silence interspersed.
Now soft strains of organ music were rippling through the air and a hush descended on the assembly. Steve recognized the full-throated serenity of Bach’s chorale arrangement of “Ach Gott, vom Himmel sieh herab.”
The pastor stepped behind the lectern and intoned the Invocation: “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”
“Amen.”
“The theme interwoven into all parts of our worship this morning is dedication, and specifically the self-dedication to God asked of all who follow Jesus. We begin with Hymn 484, all stanzas.”
Quietly the organ introduction rose out of the choir loft. This was going to be a prayerful service, all right, conducive of private devotions in the company of fellow disciples. Stephan Pearson’s heart was in tune for a service like this. It felt about to burst from the pressure of its pent-up emotions.
Jesus, my Lord, my God, my all,
Hear me, blest Saviour, when I call;
Hear me, and from thy dwelling place
Pour down the riches of thy grace.
Jesus, my Lord, I thee adore,
O make me love thee more and more,
Jesus, too late I thee have sought;
How can I love thee as I ought?
And how extol thy matchless fame,
The glorious beauty of thy name?
Jesus, my Lord, I thee adore,
O make me love thee more and more.
Jesus, what didst thou find in me
That thou hast dealt so lovingly?
How great the joy that thou hast brought,
So far exceeding hope or thought!
Jesus, my Lord, I thee adore,
O make me love thee more and more.
Jesus, of thee shall be my song,
To thee my heart and soul belong;
All that I have or am is thine,
And thou, blest Saviour, thou art mine.
Jesus, my Lord, I thee adore,
O make me love thee more and more. Amen.
Cecilia loved that hymn. She used to hum it all the time.
The congregation rose and opened their bulletins to recite excerpts from Psalm 51. Steve knew the Psalm by heart, but never had he prayed it so fervently as now.
Have mercy upon me, O God,
according to thy lovingkindness;
according to the multitude of thy tender mercies,
blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity:
and cleanse me from my sin.
For I acknowledge my transgressions:
and my sin is ever before me.
Against thee, thee only, have I sinned,
and done this evil in thy sight:
that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest,
and be clear when thou judgest.
Behold, I was shapen in iniquity:
and in sin did my mother conceive me.
Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts:
and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom.
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean:
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Make me to hear joy and gladness:
that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice.
Hide thy face from my sins:
and blot out all mine iniquities.
Create in me a clean heart, O God:
and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from thy presence:
and take not thy Holy Spirit from me.
Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation:
and uphold me with thy free spirit.
Then will I teach transgressors thy ways:
and sinners will be converted unto thee.
Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, thou God of my salvation:
and my tongue shall sing aloud of thy righteousness.
O Lord, open thou my lips:
and my mouth shall show forth thy praise.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit:
a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost:
as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
“O God, that’s me! That’s me! David fell for Bathsheba and killed Uriah. I fell for theoretical physics and killed two cities.”
In the silence that followed the Psalm, Steve heard the clear tone of a pitch pipe blowing an “F.” Then, like a thunderbolt:
VERILY, VERILY, I SAY UNTO YOU….
“O my God, you can’t be doing this to me!” he gasped.
EXCEPT A GRAIN OF WHEAT FALL INTO THE GROUND AND DIE … AND DIE, IT ABIDETH ALONE….
“It’s too much, dear Lord, too much….”
BUT IF IT DIE, IT BRINGETH FORTH MUCH FRUIT….
“You’re speaking to me out of the whirlwind, Lord! This is my whirlwind!”
EXCEPT A GRAIN OF WHEAT FALL INTO THE GROUND AND DIE…. AND DIE … AND DIE.
Dr. Stephan Pearson collapsed forward in the pew as the last tones faded away. His head was in his hands. His shoulders were silently heaving up and down.
It’s too much, Lord…. Too much….
How can I love thee as I ought?
He heard only bits and pieces of the rest of the service—his mind and heart were too full. The readings were all about the new creation we are in Christ, and the absolute priority of being reconciled to God before undertaking to do anything else in life. All of this now made enormous sense to him. It was either Christ or Satan, the Father in Heaven or the evil one. The failure to be reconciled to the Father, to the point of being a new creation in Christ, could have only one possible consequence, despite our best intentions. And Steve had lived it.
Floods of tears streamed down his cheeks.
“That’s what you were trying to tell me, my angel Cecilia. I wasn’t listening very well. But I’m with you now. It’s taken such a long time, but our good and merciful God has finally brought me to where you’ve always been.”
The pastor then offered a prayer of dedication and, glancing at his watch, announced the closing hymn:
“Number
463, Second Tune, first four stanzas.”
Jesus, thou Joy of loving hearts,
Thou Fount of life, thou Light of men,
From the best bliss that earth imparts
We turn unfilled to thee again.
Thy truth unchanged hath ever stood;
Thou savest those that on thee call;
To them that seek thee thou art good,
To them that find thee, all in all.
We taste thee, O thou living Bread,
And long to feast upon thee still;
We drink of thee, the Fountainhead,
And thirst our souls from thee to fill.
Our restless spirits yearn for thee,
Where’er our changeful lot is cast;
Glad, when thy gracious smile we see,
Blest, when our faith can hold thee fast. Amen.
The chapel emptied quickly as students hurried off to their next class. When Mary descended the stairs from the balcony, she found Steve still rapt in prayer. She left him like that until he opened his eyes, looked up at her, and smiled.
“Well,” he said. “I know what I have to do now.”
As soon as Mary had delivered him home and settled him in his chair, he reached for the tablet and a pen. Out of the overflow of his heart flooded torrents of memories and insights covering the pivotal events of his life, mostly in chronological order. He was driven by the urgent need to use every fleeting moment remaining to him to respond to the question: “How can I love thee as I ought?” Filling the sheets of several tablets with words, sometimes barely decipherable, he was impelled to write in fits of energy from one relapse to the next over the entire weekend. When he felt his strength swiftly ebbing away and his goal only partially achieved, he confided his plight to Mary.
A Grain of Wheat Page 42