isa-normaladvance-1903-00109

Description:	THE NORMAL ADVANCE.109light in her eyes that he bowed his face upon herhands silenced before it. When he arose to gothere was a new courage in his face.I can do it now, dear, I can preach the predestination sermon.The storm of indignation which swept over thecommunity when the news was spread abroad, thatRev. Cantlow- and Josephine Gladson were married, was but the culmination of the whispers andvague reports concerning his unbecoming conductand heretical views. He was an impostor. Theyhad nursed a serpent unawares in their bosoms.The Deacons peremptorily summoned him tomeet them in the study Wednesday evening, before the prayer meeting. Edward Cantlow wasprepared for it, nothing could hurt him now. Hehad buried his ideal and his grief that night in hisstudy and had accepted the new one which hadgiven him strength for his present crisis. He accepted the Deacons summons as a matter of courseand went to the meeting with small concern. Hemerely wished it were over. He hoped they wouldnot say too much.The night air came in through the openings ofthe memorial windows sacred to departed saints ofthe church. The gas flickered and lighted the rowof Deacons, solemnly seated around the pastorsstudy. The heat was oppressive. Deacon Wilsonunfolded his handkerchief carefully and wiped hisbrow. He looked at Deacon Cole and at all theDeacons who were to hold up his hands. It wasnot so easy as he imagined. The vision of the injured virgin of the church did not rise to point himsternly to his duty as she had done. Someway thepale, quiet face opposite did not invoke his righteous indignation, nor wear the look of guilt heimagined. But duty was duty and the Deaconslooked to him. He coughed slightly and movedhis hat to his right knee.Brother Cantlow, the silence was intense, I—we—the church feels it expedient that we severour relation. The reasons—. He paused andhis eyes fell before the clear gaze of the pastor. Itwas not as he had planned.The organ in the adjoining room began theopening hymn, the pastor arose.I shall comply with your wishes, gentlemen, theprayer meeting is beginning, I bid you good evening.The Deacons arose and awkwardly left the room.The pastor opened his study door and caught hisbreath quickly as the cool night air fell upon hisface and the stars shone down upon him.A curious silence possessed the large crowdwhich had assembled Sunday evening, to hear Rev.Cantlows farewell sermon. He had announcedhis text in the morning. He had never yetpreached a doctrinal sermon, and there was wondering why he should do so now.In the face of the curious, wondering crowd, thecrowd that had thrown his best love back into hisface, he arose to give his final message, his defense. He knew that was what they were expecting, he knew that this was his public trial. All ofhis old love, his old ideal, his longing to be takenat his best, his intense yearning to touch their livesfor good, to turn even their narrowest doctrine intoa message of love and truth, rose up mightily inhim. It gave a strong intenseness to his pale faceand lent a fervor to his voice as he read the text tcthe listening congregation which never could, however much it might say against him when he wa>absent, escape the spell of his earnestness and conviction in his presence.The very gentleness of his voice gave a new colorto those words which they had always heard frombelligerent defenders of the faith. For whom hedid fore-know, he also did predestinate to be con-forrned to the image of his Son, that he might bethe first born among many brethren.He closed the book and stood before them andtold them simply of his love, his hopes, his bitterdespair. They listened, amazed and moved. Theyhad expected a bitter reproach, a brilliant discourseagainst the text he had chosen, they had expectedanything but this..You ask me if I believe the message of mytext. I tell you I believe it above all things. Ithas been my first and my last message to you. Icome to tell you only this, that we are all predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son to be conformed to the image of love, kindness,gentleness, mercy to* be conformed to the truestand highest: to demand all this from ourselves and
Source:	http://indstate.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/isuarchive/id/33874
Collection:	Indiana State University Archives

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