Morning, July 30, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening
“And he began to weep.” — Mark 14:72
It has been thought by some that for the rest of Peter’s life, the cascade of his tears began to flow whenever he remembered denying his Lord. This isn’t unlikely, for his sin was very great, and grace had afterwards in him its perfect work. This same experience is common to all the family of believers to the extent in which the Spirit of God has removed the natural heart of stone. We, like Peter, remember our boastful promise: “Though all men shall fall away, yet I will not.” We eat our own words with the bitter herbs of repentance. When we think of what we vowed we would be, and of what we have been, we may weep whole floods of grief. He thought about his denying his Lord. The place in which he did it, the little excuse which led him into such reprehensible sin, the cursing and swearing with which he sought to confirm his lie, and the dreadful hardness of heart which drove him to do so again and yet again. Can we, when we are reminded of our sins, and their exceeding wickedness, remain indifferent and stubborn? Will we not make our house a place of weeping, and cry to the Lord for renewed assurances of pardoning love? May we never take a dry-eyed look at sin, lest before long we have a tongue parched in the flames of hell. Peter also thought upon his Master’s look of love. The Lord followed up the cock’s warning voice with an admonitory look of sorrow, pity, and love. That glance was never out of Peter’s mind so long as he lived. It was far more effective than ten thousand sermons would have been without the Spirit. The contrite apostle would be sure to weep when he recollected the Savior’s full forgiveness, which restored him to his former place. To think that we have offended so kind and good a Lord is more than sufficient reason for being constant weepers. Lord, smite our rocky hearts, and make the waters flow.