winebibber!_ The Son of Man comes rejoicing and you bid Him to be sad.
And _John the Baptist came neither eating nor drinking._ John the
Baptist comes from the desert, an ascetic with his camel-hair about him
and words of penance and wrath in his mouth, and you say, _He hath a
devil.... We have piped unto you and you have not danced_. We have
played at weddings like children in a market-place, and you have told us
to be quiet and think about our sins. _We have mourned unto_ you, we
have asked you to play at funerals instead, and you have told us that it
was morbid to think about death. _We have mourned and you would not
lament._"

III. The fact is, of course, that both joy and sorrow must be an element
in all religion, since joy and sorrow together make up experience. The
world is neither white with black spots nor black with white spots; it
is black and white. It is quite as true that autumn follows summer as
that spring follows winter. It is no less true that life arises out of
death than that death follows life.

Religion then cannot, if it is to be adequate to experience, be a
passionless thing. On the contrary it must be passionate, since human
nature is passionate too; and it must be a great deal more passionate.
It must not moderate grief, but deepen it; not banish joy, but exalt it.
It must weep--and bitterer tears than any that the world can shed--with
them that weep; and rejoice too--with _a joy which no man can take
away_--with them that rejoice. It must sink deeper and rise higher, it
must feel more acutely, it must agonize and triumph more abundantly, if
it truly comes from God and is to minister to men, since His thoughts
are higher than ours and His Love more burning.

For so did Christ live on earth. At one hour He _rejoiced greatly in