XXXVIII

THE TREACHEROUS KISS

"Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss?"--Luke xxii. 48.

To use a kiss in the ministry of betrayal is like using a sacramental cup to poison a friend. The very worst form of devilry is that which garbs itself in the robes of an angel of light. Evil which wears its own clothes is sufficiently repulsive, but it is not nearly so repulsive as when it counterfeits goodness, and decks itself in adornments stolen from the wardrobe of virtue. If betrayal comes with a curse and a frown we know how to interpret its approach, but when it comes with smiles and kisses it can deceive the very elect. This kiss of Judas wounded the Lord far more deeply than did the nails which fastened Him to the Cross.

And we, too, can do our evil behind appearances of virtue. We can plan mischief on our knees. We can appear unto men to pray while all the time we may be busy hatching schemes to wrong our brother. We can even join the Lord's holy church for a badge of respectability. Our membership appears to throw the light of sanctity over our life, and the soft and mellow beams become a kind of screen behind which we can engage in questionable deeds. "Oh, she is a member of the church, and it must be all right!" And thus does membership act as a screen instead of being a lucid transparency through which we can see into the deepest depths of the consecrated soul. Yes, we can betray the Lord with a kiss!

Let us beware of religious cloaks. Let us beware of borrowing the livery of the saints to hide the devices of the sinner. If we are going to betray the Lord, let us do it openly, and not by assuming the mood and manners of a friend. But why betray the great Friend who sticketh closer than a brother? Let us rather pledge Him a deeper fealty, and conform our evil in ceaseless service and sacrifice.

THE FRIEND ON THE ROAD

"Jesus Himself drew near."--Luke xxiv. 15.

THE Friend whose absence they were mourning was with them on the road. They walked in sadness because their minds were fastened upon a grave, and lo! the bars of death had been broken, and the buried One was even now at their side. They thought that the glory had departed, while all the time a greater glory had arrived. On that apparently desolate road there walked the Conqueror of death, the Lord of resurrection. It was not midnight, but sunrise with all the promise of a superlatively glorious day! They thought they were journeying westward, in the direction of spent and exhausted days; they were really journeying eastward, in the direction of a dawning of whose splendour they had never even dreamed.

And sometimes the darkness settles down upon our life, and we think that all is over, and the blessedness is spent. There is a grave somewhere; maybe it is the grave of a loved one, or the grave of some fair, cherished hope, or of some fond and promising ambition. And that grave seems to be as big as the world. There is nothing else in the world but that grave. There is nothing left! Oh, yes, there is! Jesus is left; and He is mightier than death, and the Lord of every grave. He is left, and in Him the graves shall give up their dead. We shall be amazed what He will "bring with Him." Beautiful things which we thought were dead and buried will rise again in the power of His resurrection. Lovely hopes, which we thought had dropped and withered like autumn leaves, will appear again as everlasting flowers, blooming in the fair paradise of eternal life and love. And so let the assurance of this coming glory throw its brightness on the present bit of road. The Lord is with us, and in the day of unveiling, when He is revealed in all His fullness, the great surprise, next to His own holy presence, will be the once lost things which are manifested with Him in glory.