Morning, April 10
Go To Evening Reading
“The place which is called Calvary.”
Luke 23:33
The hill of comfort is the hill of Calvary; the house of consolation
is built with the wood of the cross; the temple of heavenly blessing
is founded upon the riven rock—riven by the spear which pierced his side. No scene in sacred history
ever gladdens the soul like Calvary’s tragedy.
“Is it not strange, the darkest hour
That ever dawned on sinful earth,
Should touch the heart with softer power,
For comfort, than an angel’s mirth?
That to the Cross the mourner’s eye should turn,
Sooner than where the stars of Bethlehem burn?”
Light springs from the midday-midnight of Golgotha, and every herb
of the field blooms sweetly beneath the shadow of the once accursed
tree. In that place of thirst, grace hath dug a fountain which ever
gusheth with waters pure as crystal, each drop capable of alleviating
the woes of mankind. You who have had your seasons of conflict, will
confess that it was not at Olivet that you ever found comfort, not
on the hill of Sinai, nor on Tabor; but Gethsemane, Gabbatha, and
Golgotha have been a means of comfort to you. The bitter herbs of
Gethsemane have often taken away the bitters of your life; the scourge
of Gabbatha has often scourged away your cares, and the groans of
Calvary have put all other groans to flight. Thus Calvary yields us
comfort rare and rich. We never should have known Christ’s love in all its heights and depths if he had not died; nor could
we guess the Father’s deep affection if he had not given his Son to die. The common mercies
we enjoy all sing of love, just as the sea-shell, when we put it to
our ears, whispers of the deep sea whence it came; but if we desire
to hear the ocean itself, we must not look at every-day blessings,
but at the transactions of the crucifixion. He who would know love,
let him retire to Calvary and see the Man of sorrows die.