The chosen

The Bread of Life.

(The Gospel History, Section 64)

For I am come down from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of him that sent me. And this is the will of him that sent me, that of all that which he hath given me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up at the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that every one that beholdeth the Son, and believeth on him, should have eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day.

The chosen

(The Saviour of the World, Vol IV, Book I, Poem XXI)

“For I am come down from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of him that sent me.”

“And this is the will of him that sent me, that of all that which he hath given me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up at the last day.”

Why are your hearts sore for that word I said,—
Who come to Me believing, find fulfilled,
Yea, to the uttermost, all needs, desires,
Hungers and thirstings of their fainting soul?
Resent ye that a Man should undertake
All men to satisfy? But, see, I come,
A Servant, to fulfil My Father’s will;
My Father, also, yours. Can father see
His children lacking bread nor give to them?
So sent He Me from heaven to do His will
And give bread to His famished, ignorant:
As infants must I feed them! What say I
To Him that sent if one of these be lost?
Comes the last day, the Father looks for each
Of these His cherished children. It is His will
That who hath open eyes and sees the Son,”
(The Glory of the Father, in poor weeds
Of this mortality), “sees and believes,
That man—he is alive for evermore
In fulness of glad living, joy fulfilled:
His mortal part, quick-buried out of sight,
That, too, shall live before God at the Last Day.
There is no dying for who knows the Son.”

Our hearts aflame, we choose this better part;
We would believe and live, nor ever die!

In sooth, would we believe? Two several acts
Go to this consummation: we “behold”
The Son with steadfast gaze, adoring all
The beauty of holiness He manifests;
We scan the written page, and, one by one,
Figure the incidents that mark His days,
His healings, courtesies, rebukings, all
Those things He did, no man hath ever done;
Those things He told, no man hath ever known;
And, word by word, and phrase by phrase, we con
On our knees with tears and cryings all those words
Of awful moment spake He. Behold we thus
The Son, till the vision of His majesty obscure
All little majesties of earth; till Love, we see,
Infinite in tenderness and power to bless;
Till that strange wonder of the Godhead dawn
On eyes bedimmed—th’ Humility of Christ:
“Behold” we yet, till th’ awful vision rise—
The Cross on Calvary! We can no more,—
Our heart is broke with love and penitence.
Do we believe? We know that He is All;
That nought on earth desire we save Him,
And nought in heaven above. Lord, we believe:
We live, and nevermore shall taste of death
For He hath saved us; nothing loseth He
Of that made up our life; no tenderness,
No hope of better things, wistful desire
To serve our brother man; no joy in sound,
In sunset splendour, in a poet’s thought;
No good thing of those things we name our life
Will He who bears us lose, as, quick, He lifts
Us into life eternal, where is God.

St. John vi. 38, 39, 40.