The Caledonian

Moral and Religious.

MARY AT THE SEPULCHRE
BY KRUMMACHER.

Mary continues to weep, abandoning herself to her grief. That which now happens, my brethren, you must imagine for yourselves—it is not for us to strive to adorn the simple narrative of the Evangelist with the flowers of speech, or to depict a scene which indeed far surpasses the power of human description.—Two words only were uttered; one by our Lord, and the other by Mary. This is the whole scene; but the hearts which overflow in these words, the holy rapture which they enkindle, the ocean of joy and love which they comprehend, the heaven of peace and delight which they disclose—those are what are indescribable! The glowing pen of a seraph would not suffice to do them justice. But why do we say seraph? for a pardoned sinner could far better venture to attempt it. Mary weeps; suddenly she starts as out of a dream! What is this? she is called by name. "Mary!" resounds in her ears, and a cold shiver runs through her limbs. But why is this? She hears a voice which sounds like his voice; it was in these tones, in these soft accents, he used to address her. Trembling she looks around, into the grave, but there, there is no one: on her right, but she beholds nothing. "Can it have been the gardener?" And as she thus thinks, she turns round and looks upon him; she looks, and looking again: yes, yes, it is the gardener! O Mary, compose thyself! collect thy thoughts, and sink not altogether under the weight of thy surprise. She sees in the gardener Him who was dead, but who now lives! and once more she beholds her lost paradise, for the man who brings salvation, and who is the realization of her dearest hopes, is now restored to her! Her poor heart sinks under the weight of such overwhelming emotion! She falls down, her feet give away, her knees can no longer support her, and she breaks forth into a cry of mingled tenderness devotion, astonishment and rapture, "Rabboni! my Lord and my God!" My brethren, ask me not to describe this scene; all is comprehended in the heart-felt exclamations, "Mary!" and "Rabboni!" and language can add no more. If we say that when Mary heard her name pronounced, it seemed to her like a vessel richly freighted with consolation sailing towards her, and was a seal and pledge of her eternal safety and happiness, it will but give a faint idea of what the word "Mary," as uttered by our Lord expressed. We may with confidence say that Magdalene, now a blessed saint in heaven, still remembers the joyful moment when the Prince of life, besides the empty tomb, called her, "Mary!" and when the angels strike their golden harps, she still thinks in her heart, "Sweetly as this sounds, it does not sound like 'Mary.' " Yes, in order to comprehend all that this little word expressed, we must have seen the glance with which our Lord accompanied it; the eyes of unutterable grace and compassion with which he looked down upon her; the sunny splendor of love which shone in his glorified features, and the heaven of salvation and joy which beamed from his countenance, we must have heard the sweetness of the tones in which he spake, and felt the wafting of the breath which accompanied his words; these, and many other things we must have beheld and experienced, ere we can have the faintest idea of what the word "Mary" was, as uttered by Jesus risen from the tomb. And the reply of Magdalene, "Rabboni!" who can fathom the depths of its meaning? Words would fail to describe the joy which is expressed in it, the devout astonishment, the unutterable tenderness, and the full and free giving up of the heart which accompanied it; it seems as though, notwithstanding all our endeavors, we never could penetrate beyond the surface of the deep thoughts and feelings which are comprised in the one little word, "Rabboni." There are sounds which seem echoes from the realms of eternal life, which awaken in the soul a longing for its home above, and blissful conceptions of a futurity beyond the grave; but these sounds cannot be expressed in human words. The Saviour rejoices because his work is now completed; while the lamb of his fold rejoices because she is once more near him, and is assured of peace and salvation; and she inquires no more concerning either earth or heaven, because he has been restored to her who transforms every place which he enters, into a paradise. It is as though one had dreamed that he stood on the brink of the sea, watching the progress of a little vessel, which contains all he holds most dear, wife, children, and friends. Suddenly a storm arises; the waves of the sea roar; the little vessel totters and capsizes; it sinks into the abyss, along with all that is contained in it. This is the man's dream; and the scene takes place so vividly before him, that he believes it to be reality. With a cry of terror he awakens, and trembling looks around him; when lo! he beholds all his treasures unharmed; he becomes aware that it was only a gloomy vision which alarmed him; a feeling of gladness takes possession of his heart, and he shouts and rejoices.