CONVICTION

All those he had cherished
Left him at that hour;
Whose thoughts had opened
Like a flower
In Christ-love
Now fled.

Betrayed—with a kiss—
O bitter, bitter knowledge!
Was this
The reward at the end?

And yet he said, "Friend,
Wherefore art thou come?"
Friend!
Knowing none would find
Courage to refute
The perjury upon the witness stand;
Knowing that one who followed
At a safe distance would
Three times deny him,
Deny, then weep,
The same impulsive one
To whom he had replied,
"Until seventy times seven."

Ah, broken pride
And self betrayed by self,
Standing aside,
Hearing the loved voice cry,
"Forgive them; for they know not what they do,"
Conviction must at last have come to you.

The Master knew,
And now we too
Have learned the difference between the true
And what is false, have learned the way
To understand another—
The Father's child,
Our brother.

Pearl Strachan Hurd

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Editorial
THE MYTH OF THE INCURABLE DISEASE
April 23, 1949
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