Jerusalem by Selma Lagerlöf


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Page 39

The mission house was a veritable rock of offence. The clergyman
had never set foot in the place. And now that this mooted question
had come up, both men were sorry they had said anything to hurt
each other's feelings. "Perhaps I'm unjust to Storm," thought the
pastor. "During the four years that he has been holding his
afternoon Bible Talks, on Sundays, there has been a larger
attendance at the morning church services than ever before, and I
haven't seen the least sign of division in the church. Storm has
not destroyed the parish, as I feared he would. He is a faithful
friend and servant, and I mean to show him how much I appreciate
him."

The little misunderstanding of the forenoon resulted in the
pastor's attending the schoolmaster's meeting in the afternoon.

"I'll give Storm a pleasant surprise," he thought. "I will go to
hear him preach in his Zion."

On the way to the mission house the pastor's thoughts went back to
the time it was built. How full the air had been of prophecies, and
how firmly he had believed that God had intended it to be something
great! But nothing much had happened. "Our Lord must have changed
His mind," he thought, amused at his entertaining such queer ideas
regarding our Lord.

The schoolmaster's Zion was a large hall with light-coloured walls.
On either side hung wood engravings of Luther and Melanchton, in
fur-trimmed cloaks; along the borders, close to the ceiling, ran
highly illuminated Bible texts, embellished with flowers and
heavenly trumpets and bassoons. At the front of the room, above the
speaker's platform, hung an oleograph representing the Good
Shepherd.

The large bare room was full of people, which was all that seemed
necessary to create an atmosphere of impressive solemnity. Most of
the people were dressed in the picturesque peasant costume of the
parish, and the starched and flaring white headgear of the women
made the room look as if it were filled with large white-winged
birds.

Storm had already commenced his address, when he saw the pastor
come down the aisle, and take a seat in the front row.

"You're a wonderful man, Storm!" thought the school-master.
"Everything comes your way. Here's the pastor himself to do you
honour."

During the time that the schoolmaster had been holding meetings,
he had explained the Bible from cover to cover. That afternoon he
spoke of the Heavenly Jerusalem and everlasting bliss, as given in
the Book of the Revelation. He was so pleased at the parson having
come, that he kept thinking to himself: "For my part I shouldn't
ask for anything better than to stand on a platform through all
eternity, teaching good and obedient children; and if, on occasion,
our Lord Himself should drop in to hear me, as the pastor has done
to-day, no one in heaven would be more delighted than I."

The pastor became interested when the schoolmaster began to talk
about Jerusalem, and the strange misgivings which he had had long
ago flashed through his mind again. In the middle of the service
the door opened, and a number of people came in. There were about
twenty, and they stopped at the door so as not to disturb the
meeting. "Ah!" thought the parson. "I knew something was going to
happen."

Storm had no sooner said "Amen" than a voice, coming from some one
in the group down by the door, piped up: "I should very much like
to say a few words."

"That must be H�k Matts Ericsson," thought the pastor, and others
with him. For no one else in the parish had such a sweet and
childlike treble.

The next moment a little meek-faced man made his way up to the
platform, followed by a score of men and women who seemed to be
there for the purpose of supporting and encouraging him.

The pastor, the schoolmaster, and the entire congregation sat in
suspense. "H�k Matts has come to tell us of some awful calamity,"
they thought. "Either the king is dead, or war has been declared,
or perhaps some poor creature has fallen into the river and been
drowned." Still H�k Matts did not look as if he had any bad news to
impart. He seemed to be in earnest and somewhat stirred, but at the
same time he looked so pleased that he could hardly keep from
smiling.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Thu 15th Jan 2026, 1:49