The Quest

Young people, said the dominie, were conceited and presumptuous, and full of evil; but they were themselves unconscious of it. They thought they knew more than their elders, and they listened, far too willingly, to pernicious dogmas that would make all men equal – that would reason away royal and divine authority, and that made people rebellious, and discontented with the sphere in which God had placed them.

"The true Christian," said the dominie, "cares for neither gold nor goods. He has higher aspirations. If he be blessed with them, let him manage them well, for they are only lent to him. If he be poor, then let him not repine nor complain, knowing that everything is ordered for the best, and that true riches are not of this world."

It was a fine sermon. Johannes and his aunt both listened attentively. The precentor looked pleased, and the saintly Koos nodded repeatedly. Neeltje, alone, slept; but, as everybody knew, that was because of her nervous trouble.

The entire congregation joined spiritedly in the singing, and the dominie sat down visibly self-satisfied.

Once, Johannes looked around, and, close by the door, athwart the chancel in the shadow, beheld, supported by a slender hand, a bowed head with dark hair!

He knew the hand well, and recognized instantly that dark-haired man. Again and again he felt constrained to look in that direction. The figure remained sitting, motionless, and in a bowed posture.

But when the singing came to an end, and the dominie deliberately made ready to continue his sermon… Surely, the dark head was lifted up! Markus regarded the faces about him for an instant, with a sorrowful look, and then he stood erect.

Johannes' heart began to thump. "Was he going away? What was he going to do? Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"

But Markus, taking advantage of that pause wherein the people in a congregation are wont to cough, to make use of their handkerchiefs, and to compose themselves again for listening, began speaking in his gentle, musical voice:

"My friends, excuse me for addressing you unbidden, but you know that it is always permitted to bear witness of the Father, if one can do so truthfully."

In perplexity, the congregation looked from the speaker to Dominie Kraalboom. The precentor, also, directed his frightened eyes to the chancel up behind him, as if expecting from that quarter deliverance from this extraordinary difficulty.

Dominie Kraalboom grew very red, and, speaking in his most impressive tones – rolling his r's, for he was really angry – he said: "I beseech you not to disturb the order of this church."

Markus, however, paid not the slightest attention to these words. His voice rang clearer than ever through the chill, lofty spaces. The people listened, and the dominie had no alternative but to be silent or to shout the louder, which latter expedient he renounced from a sense of dignity.

"My poor friends," said Markus, "does it not alarm you that there are wrong-doings of which you are not conscious? Is it not sad to be guilty and not to know it?"

"If we, poor souls, forgive those who unconsciously wrong us, will not our Father forgive us?

"But to wander is to wander, and not to follow the straight course: and he who errs, though he may know it not, does not do right, although he may intend a thousand times to do the right.

"And he who continues to wander gets lost; for the Father's justice is inalterable and unfailing.

"And yet, my poor friends, the Father's forgiveness is for every one, even the poorest wanderer. His mercy is for all.

"And His forgiveness is called knowledge, and the name of His mercy is insight.

"These are bestowed upon every one who does not reject them; and no one will be lost who makes use of them.

"Therefore, the Psalmist begged to be cleansed from secret faults. He knew that we know not ourselves how very guilty we are. And He knew that the enlightening and purifying fire of confession is of the Father's mercy.

"Has ever a thirsty one continued to wander away from the water, after recognizing his mistake?

"Who of us does not long for forgiveness and blessedness? Or who would continue to err after confession?

"Confess, then, and will to look within. It is never too late to do so.

"We are guilty, my poor friends: confess it and there will be forgiveness, but not without knowledge thereof. The least among you can understand this, if only he will.

"It was not the Father who willed that you should be poor, and rich – the poor laboring, the rich idling. It would be abominable blasphemy to say that. Believe it not. Shun as defiling those who would thus delude you.

"Not by divine ordering, but through human mismanagement, wickedness, and foolishness, and the wandering away from the Father's will, have poverty and riches come into this human world.

"Acknowledge it; for, truly, there will be no forgiveness for those who reject the Father's mercy."

Here Dominie Kraalboom beckoned to the sexton and the precentor, who were standing together whispering with considerable vehemence, casting furious looks at the speaker. The sexton coughed and mounted the pulpit. The dominie exchanged a few words with him, and, with a resigned air, half-closed eyes, and a face as severe as possible, went to resume his seat. The sexton strode resolutely through the church, and left the building, all eyes following him in suspense.

Imperturbably, Markus proceeded:

"My poor friends, did ever an artist create a grand masterpiece, and desire that no one should admire it?

"Would the Father, then, have made the mountains, seas, and flowers, gold and jewels, and have desired that we should despise and reject them all?

"No; the highest good belongs not to this world, and neither does the beauty of the universe belong to this world. Yet even here – upon this earth – we may learn to know and to admire; for why else were we placed in this world?

"Let us admire not the mere wood and strings, but the music of them; not paint and canvas, but the eternal beauty to which they do homage.

"So we shall love the world, and admire it only as that by means of which the Father speaks to us; and whoever despises the world despises the voice of the Father.

"Will not he who receives a letter from his distant love kiss the dry paper, and wet the black ink with his tears?

"Shall we, then, hate the world, through which alone, in our alienation, the Father reveals to us his beauty?"

Markus' voice was so deep-toned, and so sweet to hear, that many listeners were moved, even although they only half understood. Tears were streaming freely from Johannes' shining, wide-open eyes. Aunt Seréna, too, looked agitated, and Neeltje, even, had waked up. The dominie scowled blackly, with closed eyes, like one about to lose his forbearance. The precentor looked nervously toward the door.

Again Markus began:

"My friends, how shall the poor, who compulsorily toil, and the rich, who compel them, comprehend the sacred message of the Father?

"Must they always remain both deaf and blind to what is best and most beautiful? Must they see and hear nothing of this?

"Sooner can the sunlight penetrate dungeon-doors of threefold thickness, than can the light of the Father's loving kindness and the radiance of His beauty enter the soul of the stupefied drudge.

"Upon the sands of the sea grow neither grapes nor roses. In the heart of the overworked, needy sufferer grows neither beauty nor wisdom.

"And the rich – who purloin the good things which the Father has given to others – who are served, without rendering service – who eat, without working, and found their houses upon the misery of others – how can these comprehend the justice of the Father?

"Exceeding sweetness shall turn to gall in the rich man's stomach; illicit pleasure shall waste him away like sorrow; wisdom, unrighteously acquired, shall turn in him to despair and madness.

"The rich man is like one who takes away the fire of many others, that he may always keep himself warm; but the heat consumes him. He will have all the water, that he may never again thirst; but he is drowned. Yet unto all the Father has given light and water in equal measure.

"No one escapes the Father's justice. The rich have their reward as they go; and in want shall they envy those whom they robbed while they were still upon earth.

"Admit, then, my poor friends, that it is not the Father's will that there should be poverty and riches, but that your own wickedness and maliciousness have created them – your unbrotherliness and ignorance, your thirst for power and your servility.

"Confess, and there shall be forgiveness for the most guilty. Submit and humble yourselves, and you shall be exalted. Lift up your hearts, fear not, and you shall be saved. Throw open the windows and the light will stream in."

At last, there was a creaking of the heavy, outside door, which was held shut by a rope, weighted with lead. Then followed several more long-drawn creakings of the pulley, ere the door closed with a dull thud. All heads were again turned in that direction. The dominie, too, looked up, visibly relieved.