LETTER IX
AMERICA’S GOOD FRIDAY
April 6, 1917.
It
is past midnight. It is Good Friday. Momentous decisions for the world and
for all time are heavy in the souls of men.
On the day that this day stands for, in the long ago, a man (who
was also a god) stood forth alone for the ideas of love and human
brotherhood. At last, after all these years, the thing for which he died may
be realized. But there was a crucifixion on that Friday, centuries ago.
I have brought you from a far-away shore
that you might witness a great struggle in the souls of men. You have
arrived at a center.*
To-day, in thousands of churches throughout Christendom, prayers
will be offered to the god-man who died that the god in man might live.
To-day in millions of hearts the cross will be set up.
It is so still here at midnight, at a few minutes past midnight
on this day of days.
Christianity has arisen, and presses forward to Golgotha to
witness an event.
Pray! Prayer is the affirmation by the soul of its unity with
the One. War is the affirmation of the soul of its separateness from many.
Love your enemies. It is the only way that you can conquer them.
* I had arrived in New York a few hours before after a long sojourn in
California.
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