Evening capital and Maryland gazette. (Annapolis, Md.) 1910-1922, 1913-10-28
WHAT WAS YOUR OFFERING2
Sunday Thoughts for ChurehIy Think
fContributed.i

tapers glowed like cluster of stars
in the Golden Galaxy. The Lord s
table CLEANED fair with snowy linen.
The lilies He loved bresthed out
their pure lives in sweet sacrifice.
The full voice Of the organ, rushing
heavenward in glorious harmonies.
stilled the restless movements of the
congregation and subdded il to a
reverent, If ,nomentary calm. Only
flutter of hands, like a wave run
Ming ever a smooth sea, broke cut
wherever two men passed by, each
extending an alms-basin.
Underneath the swelling music the
incensed atmosphere thrilled with
the vibrations Of lowering wings. A
marvellous holy light, emanating
from angel forms, flooded the whole
building with a wondrous radiance,
glowing over the white vestments of
priest and choir, lowering clear,
throbbing, effulgent, around the
cleaning pipes of the organ, and
shimmering in rainbow irridescence
upon the Lords table.
A mysterious change came over
the faces of the congregation. Fea-
lures grew dim; physical distinctions
faded, receded, were blotted out as
the naked souls shone out in the
spiritual eclipse of the material, and
the spiritual condition of every per-
son was the likeness and substance
Of his soul, which was seen only by
the surrounding angels, because no
man may know the likeness of his
soul until he passes from under
flesh and blood.
The people kne W nc thing of these
marvels. They sat listening to the
offertory, unconscious of the ecstatic
soul of the organ beating against
their callous hearts, telling in strains
divine of blessed visions and holy
things and the miracles of eternity.
They heard nothing within the
mighty surge of music, but the mech
enism OF numerous reeds, stops,
pipes, keys the organist's inspired
manipulation of the complicated paris
of the great organ, the perfect tech
nique of his int expectation of the
master compos FRS written music.
They saw nothing but surrounding
human faces with their play of human
emotions. the tinted windows and
sacred pictures and Illuminated in
scriptions, the memorial tablets and
wreaths, the saints in effigy, the slen-
der pillars and graceful arches, the
high altar with its lights and flowers,
the priest absorbed in his devotions,
the white-robed choir, the two men
going about collecti lg the money the
congregation chose to give as a
thank-offering fer the free graces of
Christ and His church.
Yet at the right hand of each per-
son stood an angel cleaning fair, with
re hes of light. And as the alms-basin
passed, these bright angels collected
a gift for God from each individual
soul--purifying passions and tears
and sacrifices; every good deed and
unselfish desire every kind thought
and word; all the love-offerings of
every soul to bear aloft and lay be-
fore the Throne of Grace.
And at the left of each person
doomed, grim and foreboding, shape
of darkness and evil And as the
alms.basin passed by, these dark
angels collected from each soul gifts
for the Prince of misunderstanding
and drunkenness aud excuses, sell
fishness, envy, hatred, petty malice
and Islander; every evil thought, I'M
kind word, and wicked deed; all the
sin-offerings of every soul to bear TO
the Throne of Evil and lay at the
feet of the Prince of Darkness.
The organ saug with ineffable
sweetness the hymn OF the stars in
the morning of creation. The two
men bore the alms-basins to the foot
of the altar, where the priest stood
waiting to receive and consecrate to
God the money His church must
have in order to compete with the
saloon, the brothel, the gambling
den, the unlicensed theater, which
provides the souls of men with gifts
for the Prince of Darkness.
The organ murmured softly of mys-
terry and beauty and glory. beyond
human knowing, and all the angels
unfurled their wings. The priest
raised the peoples money toward the
Lords table and prayed. The organ
pealed forth in a sublime passion of
praise and thanksgiving.
The faces of the congregation re-
sumed their physical distinction; the
likeness of the souls re coded; the
light of mystery had faded. The or
gan wept. With mighty roar of
wings the dark angels of Lucifer
rushed triumphantly away, heavy
laden with sin-offerings. The organ
shook in a wild passion of pain.
Slowly, sorrowfully, with their
meagre love-offerings, gathereing all
the light into their shining wings,
the angels of God assembled in SHIN
mering radiance. The anguished soul
of the organ yearned vaiDly after the
bright, departing angels, until its
passion was spent in melodies sweet
and far and high; sadder, farther,
fainter growing, like the "still small
voice" within the callous hearts of
men.
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