"It is the activity of thought," said Jose aloud, "that makes us believe that fleshly eyes see and ears hear. We see only our thoughts; and in some way they become externalized as our environment."
His reasoning faculty went busily on. Thought builds images, or mental concepts, within the mind. These are the thought-objects which mankind believe they see as material things in an outer world. And so the world is within, not without. Jesus must have known this when he said, "The kingdom of heaven is within you." Did he not know the tremendous effects of thought when he said, "For as a man thinketh, so is he"? In other words, a man builds his own mental image of himself, and conveys it to the fellow-minds about him.
Jose again opened his Bible at random. His eye fell upon the warning of Jeremiah, "Hear, O earth, behold I will bring evil upon this people, _even the fruit of their thoughts_!" Alas! he needed no warning to show him now the dire results of his own past wrong thinking. Evil is but wrong thinking wrought out in life experience. And so the chief of sins is the breaking of the very first Commandment, the belief in other powers than G.o.d, the infinite mind that framed the spiritual universe.
"But we simply can"t help breaking the Commandment," cried Jose, "when we see nothing but evil about us! And yet--we are seeing only the thoughts in our own minds. True--but how came they there? And whence?
From G.o.d?"
Jose was quite ready to concede a mental basis for everything; to believe that even sin is but the thought of sin, false thought regarding G.o.d and His Creation. But, if G.o.d is all-inclusive mind, He must be _the only thinker_. And so all thought must proceed from Him.
All thought, both good and evil? No, for then were G.o.d maintaining a house divided against itself. And that would mean His ultimate dissolution.
Infinite, omnipotent mind is by very logic _compelled_ to be perfect.
Then the thoughts issuing from that mind must be good. So it must follow that evil thoughts come from another source. But if G.o.d is infinite, there is no other source, no other cause. Then there is but the single alternative left--_evil thoughts must be unreal_.
What was it that the explorer had said to him in regard to Spencer"s definition of reality? "That which endures." But, for that matter, evil seems to be just as enduring as good, and to run its course as undeviatingly. After all, what is it that says there is evil? The five physical senses. But that again reduces to the thought of evil, for men see only their thoughts. These so-called senses say that the world is flat--that the sun circles the earth--that objects diminish in size with distance. They testify not to truth. Jesus said that evil, or the "devil," was "a liar and the father of lies." Then the testimony of the physical senses to evil--and there is no other testimony to its existence and power--is a lie. A lie is--what? Nothing. Reason has had to correct sense-testimony in the field of astronomy and show that the earth is not flat. Where, indeed, has reason not had to correct sense-testimony? For Jose could now see that all such testimony was essentially false. "Things as they are have no truth in them." In other words, sense-testimony is false belief. Again, a lie. And the habitat of a lie is--nowhere. Did the world by clinging to evil and trying to make something of it, to cla.s.sify it and reduce it to definite rules and terms, thus tend to make it real? a.s.suredly so. And as long as the world held evil to be real, could evil be overcome?
Again, no. A reality endures forever.
Jose arose from his study. He believed he was close to the discovery of that solid basis of truth on which to stand while teaching Carmen.
At any rate, her faith, which he could no longer believe to be baseless illusion, would not be shattered by him.
CHAPTER 11
Two weeks after his arrival in Simiti Jose conducted his first services in the ancient church. After four years of silence, the rusty bell sent out its raucous call from the old tower that still morning and announced the revival of public worship.
As the priest stepped from the sacristy and approached the altar his heart experienced a sudden sinking. Before him his little flock bowed reverently and expectantly. Looking out at them, a lump rose in his throat. He was their pastor, and daily his love had grown for these kindly, simple folk. And now, what would he not have given could he have stretched forth his hands, as did the Master, to heal them of their ills and lift them out of the shadows of ignorance! Ah, if he could have thrown aside the mummery and pagan ceremonialism which he was there to conduct, and have sat down among them, as Jesus was wont to do on those still mornings in Galilee! Instead, he stood before them an apostate va.s.sal of Rome, hypocritically using the Church to shield and maintain himself in Simiti while he reared away from her the child Carmen.
Yet, what could he do? He had heard the call; and he had answered, "Master, here am I." And now he was occupying, while waiting to be led, step by step, out of his cruelly anomalous position and into his rightful domain. A traitor to Holy Church? Nay, he thought he would have been a traitor to all that was best and holiest within himself had he done otherwise. In the name of the Church he would serve these humble people. Serving them, he honored the Master. And honoring Christ, he could not dishonor the Church.
Jose"s conduct of the Ma.s.s was perfunctory. Vainly he strove to hold in thought the symbolism of the service, the offering of Christ as a propitiation for the world"s sins. But gradually the folly of Milton"s extravagant, wild dream, which the poet clothed in such imperishable beauty, stole over him and blinded this vision. He saw the Holy Trinity sitting in solemn council in the courts of heaven. He heard their perplexed discussion of the ravages of Satan in the terrestrial paradise below. He heard the Father p.r.o.nounce His awful curse upon mankind. And he beheld the Son rise and with celestial magnanimity offer himself as the sacrificial lamb, whose blood should wash away the serpent-stain of sin. How inept the whole drama!
And then he thought of Carmen. He had seen her, as he looked out over his people, sitting with Dona Maria, arrayed in a clean white frock, and swinging her plump bare legs beneath the bench, while wonder and amazement peered out from her big brown eyes as she followed his every move. What would such things mean to her, whose G.o.d was ever-present good? What did they mean to the priest himself, who was beginning to see Him as infinite, divine mind, knowing no evil--the One whose thoughts are not as ours?
He took up the holy water and sprinkled the a.s.semblage. "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." But how is the human mind purged of error? By giving it truth.
And does the infinite mind purge the thought of men in any other way?
His mind was full as he took up the Missal. "_Kyrie Eleison_, _Christe Eleison_."
He hesitated. With a tug he pulled his mind back to the work before him. But why was he invoking clemency from One who knows no evil?
Heretofore he had always thought that G.o.d knew evil, that He must recognize it, and that He strove Himself to overcome it. But if G.o.d knew evil, then evil were real and eternal! Dreamily he began to intone the _Gloria in Excelsis Deo_. All hail, thou infinite mind, whose measureless depths mortal man has not even begun to sound! His soul could echo that strain forever.
He turned to the Lesson and read: "But there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground. And the Lord G.o.d formed man of the dust of the ground." He stopped a moment for thought. The _Lord_ G.o.d! The mist of error watered the false thought--the one lie about G.o.d--and out of it formed the man of flesh, the false concept which is held in the minds of mortals. Aye, it was the lie, posing as the Lord of creation, which had formed its false man out of the dust of the ground, and had forced it upon the acceptance of mankind! Jose turned back and read the whole of the first chapter of Genesis, where he felt that he stood upon truth.
The tapers on the altar flickered fitfully. The disturbed bats blundered among the rafters overhead. Outside, the dusty roads burned with a white glare. Within, he and the people were worshiping G.o.d.
Worship? This? "G.o.d is a spirit, and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth." In _Truth_!
Jose recited the Nicene creed, with the thought that its man-made fetters had bound the Christian world for dreary centuries. Then, the Preface and Canon concluded, he p.r.o.nounced the solemn words of consecration which turned the bread and wine before him into the flesh and blood of Christ Jesus. He looked at the wafer and the chalice long and earnestly. He--Jose de Rincon--mortal, human, a weakling among weaklings--could he command G.o.d by his "_Hoc est enim corpus meum_" to descend from heaven to this altar? Could he so invoke the power of the Christ as to change bread and wine into actual flesh and blood? And yet, with all the priestly powers which Holy Church had conferred upon him, he could not heal a single bodily ill, nor avert one human misfortune!
Ah, pagan Rome! Well have you avenged yourself upon those who wrought your fall, for in the death conflict you left the taint of your paganism upon them, and it endures in their sons even to this fair day!
Jose deferred his sermon until the close of the service. He wanted time to think over again what he could say to these simple people.
They sat before him, dull, inert, yet impressionable--bare of feet, or wearing hempen sandals, and clad in cheap cottons and calicos, with here and there a flash of bright ribbon among the women, and occasionally a parasol of brilliant hue, which the owner fondly clasped, while impatiently awaiting the close of the service that she might proudly parade it. A few of the men wore starched linen shirts, but without collars. The Alcalde, with his numerous family, and the family of Don Felipe Alcozer, sat well in front. The former regarded Jose expectantly, as the priest turned to deliver his simple sermon.
"My children," Jose began, "when the good man whom we call the Saviour sent his disciples out into the world he told them to preach the gospel and heal the sick. We have no record that he asked them to do more, for that included his whole mission. I am here to do his work.
And, as I believe myself to have been led to you, so I shall preach what I believe to be given me by the great Father of us all. I shall teach you the Christ as I comprehend him. I would I could heal the sick as well. But the gift of healing which Jesus bestowed has been lost to mankind." He paused and seemed to think deeply. Then he continued:
"I am your servant, and your friend. I want you to believe that whatever I do in your midst and whatever I say to you follows only after I have prayerfully considered your welfare. As time has pa.s.sed I have seemed to see things in a clearer light than before. What I may see in the future I shall point out to you as you are able to understand me. To that end we must suffer many things to be as they are for the present, for I am learning with you. I shall give you a single thought to take with you to-day. Jesus once said, "As a man thinketh, so is he." I want you to remember that, if you would be well and happy and prosperous, you must think only about good things. Some day you will see why this is so. But go back now to your _fincas_ and your fishing, to your little stores and your humble homes, firmly resolving never to think a bad thought, whether about yourself or your neighbor. And pray for yourselves and me--"
He looked off into the gloom overhead. Again he seemed to hear the Man of Galilee: "Ask and ye shall receive."
"And, my children--"
He thought suddenly of Carmen and her visits to the shales. His face shone for a moment with a new light.
"--let your prayers be no mere requests that G.o.d will bless us, but rather let them be statements that He is infinite good, and that He cannot do otherwise than give us all we need. No, I ask not that you intercede for me; nor shall I do so for you. But I do ask that you join with me in trying to realize that G.o.d is good; that He loves us as His dear children; and that He is daily, hourly pouring out His inexhaustible goodness upon us. We shall all see that goodness when we learn to think no evil."
His eyes rested upon Carmen as he spoke these last words. Then with a simple invocation he dismissed the congregation.
The Alcalde carried Jose off to dinner with him, much against the inclination of the priest, who preferred to be alone. But the Alcalde was the chief influence in the town, and it was policy to cultivate him.
"The blessed Virgin shows that she has not forgotten Simiti, Padre, by sending you here," said Don Mario, when they were seated in the shade of the ample _patio_.
Jose knew the Alcalde was sounding him. "Yes, friend," with just a trace of amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice. "It was doubtless because of the Virgin that I was directed here," he replied, thinking of Carmen.
"Excellent advice that you gave the people, Padre; but it is not likely they understood you, poor fools! Now if Padre Diego had been preaching he would have ranted like a windstorm; but he would have made an impression. I am afraid soft words will not sink into their thick skulls."
Dinner was served in the open, during which the Alcalde chattered volubly.
"Don Rosendo returns soon?" he finally ventured. Jose knew that for some time he had been edging toward the question.
"_Quien sabe, senor!_" replied the priest, with a careless shrug of his shoulders.
"But--_Caramba_! he is old to prospect for gold--and alone, too!" Don Mario eyed Jose sharply.
"Ah, you priests!" he burst out laughing. "You are all alike when it comes to money. Padre Diego was up to the same schemes; and before he left he had a hat full of t.i.tles to mines."
"But I am not seeking to acquire mineral property!" exclaimed Jose with some aspersion.
"No? Then you had nothing to do with Rosendo"s trip?"
Jose kept silence.
"_Na_, Padre, let us be confidential," said the Alcalde, hitching his chair closer to the priest. "Look, I understand why Rosendo went into the Guamoco country--but you can trust me to say nothing about it.
Only, Padre, if he should find the mine he will have trouble enough to hold it. But I can help you both. You know the denouncement papers must go through my hands, and I send them to Cartagena for registration."
He sat back in his chair with a knowing look.