ous air. Steady a bit. Stay up with _Me_ on the
glory side of your cloud, though your feet scratch the clay." Surely
there's more of God since Jesus went back!

The Divine Jesus

<u>Jehovah--Jesus.</u>

Of all the men who knew Jesus intimately John stands first and highest. He
misunderstood for a time. He failed to understand, as did the others. He
did not approach the keen insight into Jesus' being and purpose that Mary
of Bethany did. But, then, she was a woman. He was a man. Other things
being equal (though they almost never are), woman has keener insight into
the spirit and motives than has man. But John stood closer to Jesus than
any other. Jesus drew him closer. And that speaks volumes for John's
fineness of spirit. He alone of the inner twelve did not forsake in the
hardest hour that Thursday night, but went in "_with_ Jesus." How grateful
must Jesus have been for the presence of His sympathetic friend that black
night, with its long intense shadows!

Now John writes about Jesus. And what this closest friend says will be of
intensest interest to all lovers of Jesus. But it is of even intenser
interest to note keenly _when_ John writes. He waits until the end. He
gets the longest range on Jesus that his lengthening years will permit.
Distance is essential to perspective. You must get far away from a big
thing to see it. The bigger the thing to be seen, the longer the distance
needed for good perspective. John shows his early appreciation of the size
of Jesus by waiting so long. When all his mental faculties are most
matured, when any heat of mere youthful attachment has cooled off, when
the eye of the spirit is clearest and keenest, when the facts through long
sifting have fallen into right place and relation in the whole circle of
truth, then the old man settles to his loving task.

He had been _looking_ long. His perspective has steadily lengthened with
the looking years. The object has been getting bigger and bigger to his
eyes. He is getting off as far as possible within his earthly span. At
last he feels that he has approximately gotten the range. And with the
deep glow of his heart gleaming up out of his eyes, he picks up a
freshly-sharpened quill _to tell folk about Jesus_.

As he starts in he takes a fresh, long, earnest look. And so he writes,
like a portrait artist working, with his eyes ever gazing at the vision of
that glorified Face. He seems to say to himself, "How _shall_ I--how _ca