The Bishop's Dream Of The Holy Sepulchre

A lassie sells the War Cry on the corner     And the big drum booms, and the raucous brass horns     Mingle with the cymbals and the silver triangle.     I stand a moment listening, then my friend     Who studies all religions, finds a wonder     In orphic spectacles like this, lays hold     Upon my arm and draws me to a door     Through which we look and see a room of seats,     A platform at the end, a table on it,     And signs upon the wall, "Jesus is Waiting,"     And "God is Love."             We enter, take a seat.     The band comes in and fills the room to bursting     With horns and drums. They cease and feet are heard,     The crowd has followed, half the seats are full.     After a prayer, a song, the captain mounts     The platform by the table and begins:     "Praise God so many girls are here to-night,     And Sister Trickey, by the grace of God     Saved from the wrath to come, will speak to you."     So Sister Trickey steps upon the platform,     A woman nearing forty, one would say.     Blue-eyed, fair skinned, and yellow haired, a figure     Once trim enough, no doubt, grown stout at last.     She was a pretty woman in her time,     'Twas plain to see. A shrewd intelligence     From living in the world shines in her face.     We settle down to hear from Sister Trickey     And in a moment she begins:             "Young girls:     I thank the Lord for Jesus, for he saved me,     I thank the Lord for Jesus every hour.     No woman ever stained with redder sins.     Had greater grace than mine. Praise God for Jesus!     Praise God for blood that washes sins away!     I was a woman fallen till Lord Jesus     Forgave me, helped me up and made me clean.     My name is Lilah Trickey. Let me tell you     How music was my tempter. Oh, you girls,     If there be one before me who can sing     Beware the devil and beware your voice     That it be used for Jesus, not for Satan."     "I had a voice, was leader of the choir,     But Satan entered in my voice to tempt     The bishop of the church, and in my heart     To tempt and use the bishop; in the bishop     Old Satan slipped to lure me from the path.     He fell from grace for listening. And I     Whose voice had turned him over to the devil     Fell as he fell. He dragged me down with him.     No use to make it long, one word's enough:     Old Satan is the first word and the last,     And all between is nothing. It's enough     To say the bishop and myself eloped     Went to Montreaux. He left a wife and children.     And I poor silly thing with promises     Of culture of my voice in Paris, lost     Good name and all. And he lost all as well.     Good name, his soul I fear, because he took     The church's money saying he would use it     To win the Holy Sepulchre, in fact     Intending all the while to use the money     For travel and for keeping up a house     With me as soul-mate. For he never meant     To let me go to Paris for my voice,     He never got enough to pay for that.     On that point he betrayed me, now I see     'Twas God who used him to deceive me there,     And leave me to return to Springfield broken,     An out-cast, fallen woman, shamed and scorned."     "We took a house in Montreaux, plain enough     As we looked at it passing, but within     'Twas sweet and fair as Satan could desire:     Engravings on the wall and marble mantels,     Gilt clocks upon the mantels, lovely rugs,     Chests full of linen, silver, pewter, china,     Soft beds with canopies of figured satin,     The scent of apple blossoms through the rooms.     A little garden, vines against the wall.     There were the lake and mountains. Oh, but Satan     Baited the hook with beauty. But the bishop     Seemed self-absorbed, depressed and never smiled.     And every time his face came close to mine     I smelled the brandy on him. Conscience whipped     Its venomed tail against his peace of mind.     And so he took the brandy to benumb     The sting of conscience and to dull the pain.     He told me he had business in Montreaux     Which would require some weeks, would there be met     By people who had money for him. I     Was twenty-three and green, besides I walked     In dreamland thinking of the promised schooling     In Paris - oh 'twas music, as I said.". ...     "At last one day he said a friend was coming,     And he went to the station. Very soon     I heard their steps, the bishop and his friend.     They entered. I was curious and sat     Upon the stair-way's landing just to hear.     And this is what I heard. The bishop asked:     'You've brought some money, how much have you brought?'     The man replied 'four hundred dollars.' Then     The bishop said: 'I'll take it.' In a moment     I heard the clinking gold and heard the bishop     Putting it in his pocket.'          "God forgive me,     I never was so angry in my life.     The bishop had been talking in big figures,     We would have thousands for my voice and Paris,     And here was just a paltry sum. Scarce knowing     Just what I did, perhaps I wished to see     The American who brought the money - well,     No matter what it was, I walked in view     Upon the landing, stood there for a moment     And saw our visitor, a clergyman     From all appearances. He stared, grew red,     Large eyed and apoplectic, then he rose,     Walked side-ways, backward, stumbled toward the door,     Rattled with shaking hand the knob and jerked     The door ajar, with open mouth backed out     Upon the street and ran. I heard him run     A square at least."         "The bishop looked at me,     His face all brandy blossoms, left the room,     Came back at once with brandy on his breath.     And all that day was tippling, went to bed     So drunk I had to take his clothing off     And help him in."          "Young girls, beware of music,     Save only hymns and sacred oratorios.     Beware the theatre and dancing hall.     Take lesson from my fate.         "The morning came.     The bishop called me, he was very ill     And pale with fear. He had a dream that night.     Satan had used him and abandoned him.     And Death, whom only Jesus can put down,     Was standing by the bed. He called to me,     And said to me:             "'That money's in that drawer.     Use it to reach America, but use it     To send my body back. Death's in the corner     Behind that cabinet - there - see him look!     I had a dream - go get a pen and paper,     And write down what I tell you. God forgive me -     Oh what a blasphemer am I. O, woman,     To lie here dying and to know that God     Has left me - hell awaits me - horrible!     Last night I dreamed this man who brought the money,     This man and I were walking from Damascus,     And in a trice came down to Olivet.     Just then great troops of men sprang up around us     And hailed us as expecting our approach.     And there I saw the faces - hundreds maybe,     Of congregations who had trusted me     In all the long past years - Oh, sinful woman,     Why did you cross my path,' he moaned at times,     'And wreck my ministry.'             "'And so these crowds     Armed as it seemed, exulted, called me general,     And shouted forward. So we ran like mad     And came before a building with a dome -     You know - I've seen a picture of it somewhere.     And so the crowds yelled: let the bishop enter     And see the sepulchre, while we keep guard.     They pushed me in. But when I was inside     There was no dome, above us was the sky,     And what seemed walls was nothing but a fence.     Before us was a stable with a stall     Where two cows munched the hay. There was a farmer     Who with a pitchfork bedded down the stall.     "Where is the holy sepulchre?" I asked -     "My army's at the door." He kept at work     And never raised his eyes and only said:     "Don't know; I haven't time for things like that.     You're 'bout the hundredth man who's asked me that.     We don't know where it is, nor do we care.     We live here and we knew him, so we feel     Less interest than you. But have you thought     If you should find it it would only be     A tomb like other tombs? Why look at this:     Here is the very manger where he lay -     What is it? Just a manger filled with straw.     These cows are not the very cows you know -     But cows are cows in every age and place.     I think that board there has been nailed on since.     Outside of that the place is just the same.     Now what's the good of seeing it? His mother     Lay in that corner there, what if she did?     That lantern on the wall's the very one     They came to see the child with from the inn -     What of it? Take your army and go on,     And leave me with my barn and with my cows."     "'So all the glory vanished! Devil magic     Stripped all the glory off. No angels singing,     No star of Bethlehem, no magi kneeling,     No Mary crowned, no Jesus King, no mystic     Blood for sins' remission - just a barn,     A stall, two cows, a lantern - all the glory -     Swept from the gospel. That's my punishment:     My poor weak brain filled full of all this dream,     Which seems as real as life - to lie here dying     Too weak to shake the dream! To see Death there     Behind that cabinet - there - see him look -     By God forsaken - all theology,     All mystery, all wonder, all delight     Of spiritual vision swept away as clean     As winds sweep up the clouds, and thus to see     While dying, just a manger, and two cows,     A lantern on the wall.         "'And thus to see,     For blasphemy that duped an honest heart,     And took the pitiful dollars of the flock     To win you with - oh, woman, woman, woman,     A barn, a stall, a lantern limned so clear     In such a daylight of clear seeing senses     That all the splendor, the miraculous     Wonder of the virgin, nimbused child,     The star that followed till it rested over     The manger (such a manger) all are wrecked,     All blotted from belief, all snatched away     From hands pushed off by God, no longer holding     The robes of God.'             "And so the bishop raved     While I stood terrified, since I could feel     Death in the room, and almost see the monster     Behind the cabinet.          "Then the bishop said:     "'My dream went on. I crossed the stable yard     And passed into a place of tombs. And look!     Before I knew I stepped into a hole,     A sunken grave with just a slab at head,     And "Jesus" carven on it, nothing else,     No date, no birth, no parentage.'"         "'I lie     Tormented by the pictures of this dream.     Woman, take to your death bed with clear mind     Of gospel faith, clean conscience, sins forgiven.     The thoughts that we must suffer with and die with     Are worth the care of all the days of life.     All life should be directed to this end,     Lest when the mind lies fallen, vultures swoop,     And with their wings blot out the sun of faith,     And with their croakings drown the voice of God.'     "He ceased, became delirious. So he died,     And I still unrepentant buried him     There in Montreaux, and with what gold remained     Went on to Paris.          "See how I was marked     For God's salvation.          "There I went to see     The celebrated teacher Jean Strakosch,     Who looked at me with insolent, calm eyes,     And face impassive, let me sing a scale,     Then shook his head. A diva, as I thought,     Came in just then. They talked in French, and I,     Prickling from head to foot with shame, ignored,     Left standing like a fool, passed from the room.     So music turned on me, but God received me,     And I came back to Springfield. But the Lord     Made life too hard for me without the fold.     I was so shunned and scorned, I had no place     Save with the fallen, with the mockers, drinkers.     Thus being in conviction, after struggles,     And many prayers I found salvation, found     My work in life: which is to talk to girls     And stand upon this platform and relate     My story for their good."         She ceased. Amens     Went up about the room. The big drum boomed,     And the raucous brass horns mingled with the cymbals,     The silver triangle and the singing voices.     My friend and I arose and left the room.