His word to Quintus is:
"Last year I sickened with a fever and passed through the door of
death. They were carrying me out for burial, and my widowed mother
was weeping as one weeps who has lost her only son. The Master
halted the mourners, and called me back to earth. I have never
told of the wonders which I saw in the spirit world; it would not
be lawful. But I have been in the great spaces beyond the stars,
and know that the tomb is only a resting place for a little sleep."
"How many disciples are there here?" Quintus asks of the good John.
To which question the other answers:
"Over a half thousand. It has been our Master's wish that every
disciple of his throughout the land should come to this meeting
place. Unto all he would show himself once more, before he returns
to the upper life. So they shall have a glad memory of his face,
and shall be strengthened in their coming tribulations by the hope
of immortality."
Then suddenly--the risen Lord has come! The marvel of it! The
splendor of it! While the five hundred are talking together, the
air grows luminous with his presence.
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