That no doubt, goes to the heart of the spiritual problem.  If we are to accomplish anything at all in the way of spiritual development, if we are to conduct life in simplicity toward spiritual ends, it will only be when the source of life’s energy is found in love.  He who does not love has no compelling motive toward God and no abiding principle to control life.  If we conceive the Christian life as a task that is forced upon us, and which in some way we are bound to fulfil, we may be sure that the way in which we shall fulfil it will be weak and halting.  We may be as conscientious as you please, but we shall not be able to concentrate on a work which is merely a work of duty and not the embodiment of a great love.  Our primary activity should be devout meditation and study of our Lord’s life, with prayer for guidance and help, till something of the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts, till we feel our hearts burn within us and our spirits glow and we become able to offer ourselves, soul and body, a living sacrifice unto Him.

MARY:  I cried:  “Maudeleyn, help now! 
My Son hath loved full well thee;
Pray Him that I may die,
That I not forgotten be! 
Seest thou, Maudeleyn, now
My Son is hanged on a tree,
Yet alive am I and thou,—­
And thou, thou prayest not for me!”

MAUDELEYN said:  “I know no red,
Care hath smitten my heart sore. 
I stand, I see my Lord nigh dead;
And thy weeping grieveth me more. 
Come with me; I will thee lead
Into the Temple here before
For thou hast now i-wept full yore.”

MARY:  “I ask thee, Maudeleyn, where is that place,—­
In plain or valley or in hill? 
Where I may hide in any case
That no sorrow come me till. 
For He that all my joy was,
Now death with Him will do its will;
For me no better solace is
Than just to weep, to weep my fill.” 
The Maudeleyn comforted me tho. 
To lead me hence, she said, was best: 
But care had smitten my heart so
That I might never have no rest.

“Sister, wherever that I go
The woe of Him is in my breast,
While my Sone hangeth so
His pains are in mine own heart fast. 
Should I let Him hangen there
Let my Son alone then be? 
Maudeleyn, think, unkind I were
If He should hang and I should flee.”

* * * * *

               I bade them go where was their will,
               This Maudeleyn and everyone,
               And by myself remain I will
               For I will flee for no man.

     From St. Bernard’s “Lamentation On Christ’s Passion.”

     Engl. version, 13th Cent., by Richard Maydestone.

PART TWO

CHAPTER XIX

THE DESCENT AND BURIAL

     And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean
     linen cloth, and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had
     hewn out in the rock.