A Heart-breaking Verse.


Then comes John's second heart-breaking verse; but it is just a bit more
heart-breaking in what it says. Listen: _He came to His own home, and
they that were His own kinsfolk received Him not into the house but kept
Him standing out in the cold and storm of the wintry night._

One of you men goes home to-night. It's your own home, shaped on your
own personality through the years. It's a bit late. You've had a long
hard day. You're tired. It's stormy. The wind and the rain chill you as
you turn the corner. And you pull your coat a bit snugger as you quicken
your steps and think of home, warmth and comfort, loved ones, and rest
for body and spirit, too.

As you come to the door you reach for your latch-key, and find, in the
busy rush, you seem to have forgotten it, somehow. So you ring the bell
or knock. And suppose--be patient with me a bit, please. Suppose your
loved ones know you're there. You even see a hand drawing aside the edge
of the window shade, and two eyes that you know so well peer out through
the crack at you; then the shade goes to again. Yes, they know you're
there. But the door, your own door, doesn't open. How would you feel?

And some one says to himself, "That's not a good illustration. That
thing couldn't happen. It isn't natural." No: you're right. It _isn't_
natural. It could not happen to _you_. I am sure it could not happen to
_me_. If it could I'd be heart-broken. _But this is what happened to