| The most sacred of all
the days of our life is the day we die. It is holy, it is the
great day of change, of transformation. Have you ever seriously
thought about the hour that is certain to come and will be your
last hour on earth? |
Den helligste Dag her
blandt alle Livets Dage er den, vi døe paa; det er den yderste
Dag, den hellige store Forvandlings Dag. Har Du rigtigt, alvorsfuldt
tænkt over denne mægtige, visse, sidste Time her paa Jorden?
|
| There once was a man.
He was "strong in the faith," as they say. He was a warrior
for God and His Word, a zealous servant of a zealous God. Death
was now standing by his bed. Solemly Death looked at him and
said: |
Der var en Mand, en
strængt Troende, som han kaldtes, en Stridsmand for Ordet, der
var ham en Lov, en nidkjær Tjener af en nidkjær Gud. - Døden
stod nu ved hans Seng, Døden med det strænge, himmelske Aasyn.
|
| "The hour has come for
you to follow me." And he touched the man's feet with his ice-cold
hand and they turned cold. He touched his forehead, then his
chest; the man's heart ceased to beat and his soul followed
the angel of Death. |
"Timen er kommen, Du
skal følge mig!" sagde Døden og rørte med sin iiskolde Finger
hans Fødder, og de iisnede, Døden berørte hans Pande, derpaa
hans Hjerte, og det brast derved og Sjælen fulgte Dødsengelen.
|
| But in the few seconds
that passed between Death's fingers touching his feet and his
chest, the dying man experienced everything that life had given
him. Like a great wave of the ocean, it engulfed him. He felt
as you do when you stand on a mountaintop and can see the whole
valley below you; or as on a starlit night, when with one glance
you can take in the whole universe. |
Men i de faa Secunder
forud, mellem Indvielsen fra Fod til Pande og Hjerte, gik som
et Havs store tunge Bølger, Alt hvad Livet havde bragt og vakt,
henover den Døende. Saaledes seer man med eet Blik ned i det
svimlende Dyb og omfatter, i eet Tankelyn, den umaadelige Vei;
saaledes seer man med eet Blik, i een Sum, den talløse Stjernevrimmel,
kjendende Kloder og Verdner i det vide Rum. |
| At such a moment the
sinner trembles with fear. He has no one to lean on and he sinks
into the void. The pious man leans on God and says with the
innocence of a child: "Thy will be done." |
I et saadant Øieblik
gyser den forfærdede Synder og har Intet at hælde sig til, det
er, som sank han ud i en uendelig Tomhed! - Men den Fromme hælder
sit Hoved til Gud og giver sig, som Barnet, hen i "din Villie
skee med mig!" |
| But this dying man had
not a child's faith, he had a man's. He did not shiver as a
sinner would have, for he knew that he had been faithful. His
life had been guided by the strictest religious doctrines. He
knew that millions of people walked the broad highway of sin
that leads to the everlasting doom, and he would willingly have
punished their bodies with fire and sword, as he knew their
souls were destined to suffer eternally. His road was toward
heaven, where the grace that had been promised him would open
the great doors. |
Men denne Døende havde
ikke Barnets Sind, han følte, han var Mand; han gjøs ikke, som
Synderen, han vidste, han var den rette Troende. Paa Religionens
Former i al deres Strænghed havde han holdt; Millioner, vidste
han, maatte gaae den brede Vei til Fordømmelsen; med Sværd og
med Ild kunde han have ødelagt deres Legemer her, som alt deres
Sjæl var det og altid vilde blive det -! hans Vei var nu mod
Himlen, hvor Naaden aabnede ham Porten, Naaden, den lovede.
|
| As his soul followed
the angel of Death, he looked back for a moment at his own dead
clay, this strange, now already foreign shell of his ego. They
flew and they walked. They were in a gigantic hall or a forest,
it was as if nature had been pruned, cut, formalized in squares
and rows as in a French garden. Here a masquerade seemed to
be taking place. |
Og Sjælen gik med Dødsengelen,
men eengang endnu saae den hen til Leiet, hvor Støvbilledet
laae i den hvide Liigskjorte, et fremmed Aftryk af dens Jeg.
- Og de fløi, og de gik - det var som i en mægtig Hal og dog
som i en Skov; Naturen var beskaaret, udspændt, opbundet og
sat i Række, kunstiggjort, som de gamle franske Haver; her var
Maskerade. |
| "This is humanity!"
said the angel of Death. |
"Det er Menneskelivet!"
sagde Dødsengelen. |
| They were wearing costumes.
Not all the rich and mighty were dressed in silk and gold, nor
were all the poor in ragged clothes. It was a strange masquerade.
All the people partaking in it seemed to be hiding something
under their clothes; everyone seemed to have something he felt
ashamed of, but which the others wanted revealed, so they could
see it. They tore at one another's clothes, while at the same
time everyone tried to protect his own secret. Every once in
a while, peeping out from under a cloak or a robe would be the
grinning head of an ape or a goat, or the slimy body of a snake
or a fish. |
Alle Skikkelser saaes
mere eller mindre formummede; det var ikke de ædleste eller
mægtigste just alle de, som gik i Fløiel og Guld, det var ikke
de laveste og ringe Alle, der gik i Fattigfolks Kjole. - Det
var en underlig Maskerade, og især ganske egent var det at see,
hvorledes de Allesammen under deres Klædning skjulte omhyggelig
Noget for hverandre; men den Ene sled i den Anden, at det kunde
blive synligt, og da saae man Hovedet af et Dyr stikke frem;
hos En var det en grinende Abe, hos en Anden en fæl Gjedebuk,
en klam Slange eller mat Fisk. |
| That was the animal,
the beast we all carry within us, which grows and becomes part
of our bodies and wants to come out and be seen. And though
everyone held his clothes about him as tightly as he could,
the others tried to pull them aside, screaming and pointing.
"Look! Look at her! Look at him!" Each revealed the other's
misery. |
Det var Dyret, som vi
Alle bære paa, Dyret, som er voxet fast i Mennesket, og det
hoppede og det sprang og vilde frem, og hver holdt Klæderne
tæt om det, men de Andre reve tilside og raabte: "Seer Du! see!
Det er ham! det er hende!" og den Ene blottede den Andens Elendighed.
|
| "And what kind of animal
lives within me?" asked the dead man. The angel of Death pointed
to a proud man who stood apart from the others. Above his head
was a many-colored halo, but near the heart of the man the animal's
feet protruded! Peacocks feet, and the halo was the bird's tail.
|
"Og hvad var Dyret hos
mig!" spurgte den vandrende Sjæl; og Dødsengelen pegede hen
for sig paa en stolt Skikkelse, og om dens Hoved viste sig en
broget Glorie med skinnende Farver, men ved Mandens Hjerte skjulte
sig Dyrets Fødder, Paafuglens Fødder; Glorien var kun Fuglens
brogede Hale. |
| As they proceeded on
their journey the trees grew taller. In them sat strange birds
that cried with human voices, "You, Death's companion, do you
remember us?" They were the evil thoughts, the evil desires
he had had on earth. |
Og som de vandrede frem,
skreg store Fugle fælt fra Træernes Grene; med lydelige Menneskestemmer
skreg de: "Du Døds-Vandrer, husker Du mig!" - det var alle de
onde Tanker og Begjæringer fra hans Livs Dage, som raabte til
ham: "husker Du mig!" |
| For a moment the soul
shivered in fear, for he did recognize the voices, his evil
thoughts, the desires that now came to bear witness against
him. |
Og Sjælen giøs et Øieblik,
thi den kjendte Stemmerne, de onde Tanker og Begjæringer, der
traadte op som Tingsvidner. |
| "In our flesh, in our
evil nature, no goodness lives," said the soul. "But my thoughts
never became deeds! The world never saw their evil fruits!"
He walked on in haste to escape the large black birds, but they
circled about him in flocks, screaming so loudly that the whole
world could hear them. He ran like a wounded deer, but now the
ground seemed covered with sharp flint stones which cut and
hurt his feet. "Where do these sharp stones that lie like dead
leaves on the earth come from?" |
"I vort Kjød, i vor
onde Natur, boer intet Godt!" sagde Sjælen, "men Tankerne hos
mig bleve ikke til Gjerninger, Verden har ikke seet den onde
Frugt!" og han skyndte sig end mere, for snart at komme bort
fra de fæle Skrig, men de store sorte Fugle omsvævede ham i
Kredse og skreg og skreg, som skulde det høres over al Verden;
og han sprang som den jagede Hind, og ved hvert Trin stødte
han Foden mod skarpe Flintesteen, og de skar hans Fødder og
det smertede ham. "Hvor komme disse skarpe Stene her? Som vissent
Løv ligge de hen over Jorden!" |
| "Each one is a thoughtless
word that you have uttered and which hurt your neighbor's heart
far more than they now hurt your feet." |
"Det er hvert uforsigtigt
Ord, Du lod falde, og som saarede din Næstes Hjerte langt dybere,
end Stenene nu saare din Fod!" |
| "I never thought about
that," admitted the soul of the dead man. |
"Det tænkte jeg ikke
over!" sagde Sjælen. |
| "Judge not and you shall
not be judged!" The words rang through the heavens. |
"Dømmer ikke, saa skulle
I ikke dømmes!" klang det gjennem Luften. |
| "We have all sinned,"
whispered the soul, but then he said with a more forceful voice:
"But I have kept the law and lived according to the gospels.
I did try, I am not like the others." |
"Alle have vi syndet!"
sagde Sjælen og løftede sig atter. "Jeg har holdt Loven og Evangeliet,
jeg har gjort, hvad jeg kunde gjøre, jeg er ikke, som de Andre!"
|
| At last they arrived
at the gate of heaven; the angel who guarded it asked: "Who
are you? Tell me the creed you believed in and what deeds you
have done." |
Og de stode ved Himlens
Port, og Engelen, Indgangens Bevogter, spurgte: "Hvo er Du?
Siig mig din Tro og viis mig den i dine Gjerninger!" |
| "I have kept all the
commandments. I have humbled myself in the eyes of the world.
I have hated evil and those men who were evil. Those who walked
the broad highway of sin I have pursued with fire and sword
and would do so today if I could." |
"Jeg har strængt opfyldt
alle Bud! jeg har ydmyget mig for Verdens Øine, jeg har hadet
og forfulgt det Onde og de Onde, de, som gaae den brede Vei
til den evige Fordømmelse, og jeg vil det endnu, med Ild og
med Sværd, dersom jeg mægter det!" |
| "You are one of the
followers of Mohammed?" asked the angel. |
"Du er altsaa een af
Mahomeds Bekjendere!" sagde Engelen. |
| "No! Never!" shouted
the soul. |
"Jeg! - Aldrig!" |
| "He that lives by the
sword shall perish by the sword, the Son of God has said. It
cannot be he you worship. Are you one of the Children of Israel
who believes as Moses did: 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for
a tooth?' A son of Israel whose jealous God cares only for His
people?" |
"Hvo, som griber til
Sværdet, skal omkomme ved Sværdet, siger Sønnen! hans Tro har
Du ikke. Er Du maaskee en Israels Søn, der med Moses siger:
Øie for Øie og Tand for Tand! en Israels Søn, hvis nidkjære
Gud er kun dit Folks Gud!" |
| "I am a Christian."
|
"Jeg er Christen!" |
| "That I would not have
guessed either from your faith or from your deeds. Christ teaches
redemption, love, and mercy." |
"Det kjender jeg ikke
i din Tro og dine Gjerninger. Christi Lære er Forsoning, Kjærlighed
og Naade!" |
| "Mercy, mercy!" The
words rang through the eternal never ending heavens, and the
doors opened for the soul to enter. |
"Naade!" klang det gjennem
det uendelige Rum, og Himlens Port aabnede sig, og Sjælen svævede
mod den aabne Herlighed. |
| But the light that came
from inside was so sharp, so penetrating, that the soul drew
back and did not dare enter. The music was so soft, so sweet,
so touching, that no human tongue could describe it. The soul
bowed down lower and lower as the godly wisdom entered him;
and at last he felt what he had never felt before: the burden
of his own arrogance, hardness, and sin. Now he finally understood.
|
Men Lyset, der udstrømmede,
var saa blændende, saa gjennemtrængende, at Sjælen veeg tilbage,
som for et draget Sværd; og Tonerne klang saa bløde og gribende,
ingen jordisk Tunge kan udsige det, og Sjælen bævede og bøiede
sig dybere og altid dybere, men den himmelske Klarhed trængte
ind i den, og da følte og fornam den, hvad den aldrig før saaledes
havde følt, Byrden af sin Hovmod, sin Haardhed og Synd. - Det
blev saa klart inden i den. |
| "What good I did in
the world I did because I could not do otherwise, but the evil--that
I chose to do myself." |
"Hvad godt jeg gjorde
i Verden, det gjorde jeg, fordi jeg ikke kunde anderledes, men
det Onde - - det var af mig selv!" |
| The soul was blinded
by the heavenly light; weak and faint, it fell, it was not yet
wise enough to enter the kingdom of heaven. He remembered his
own belief in God's justice and righteousness and did not dare
to beg for mercy. |
Og Sjælen følte sig-
blændet af det rene himmelske Lys, afmægtig sank den, saaledes
syntes det, dybt, rullet i sig selv; nedtynget, umoden for Himmeriges
Rige, og i Tanken om den strænge, den retfærdige Gud, vovede
den ikke at udstamme: "Naade!" |
| At that moment he received
God's grace, His unexpected mercy. |
- Og, da var Naaden
der, den ikke ventede Naade. |
| God's heaven was everywhere
in the endless space, God's love filled everything. |
Guds Himmel var i hele
det uendelige Rum, Guds Kjærlighed gjennemstrømmede den i uudtømmelig
Fylde. |
| "Holy, glorious, loving,
and eternal is the human soul," said a voice and the angels
sang the message. Every one of us will on the last day and hour
of life here on earth draw back in fear and humility from the
glory and splendor of heaven. We will fall; but His grace will
support us and our souls will fly in new orbits, nearer and
nearer the eternal light, His mercy will give us the strength
to understand the final, godly, eternal wisdom. |
"Hellig, herlig, kjærlig
og evig vorde Du, Menneskesjæl!" klang det og sang det. Og Alle,
Alle skulle vi paa vort Jordlivs yderste Dag, som Sjælen her,
bæve tilbage for Himmeriges Glands og Herlighed, bøie os dybt,
ydmyge nedsynkende og dog baarne af hans Kjærlighed, hans Naade,
holdes oppe, svævende i nye Baner, luttrede, ædlere og bedre,
mere og mere nærme os Lysets Herlighed, og styrket ved ham mægte
at stige ind i den evige Klarhed. |