Evening, March 31, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And Rizpah the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth and spread it for herself on the rock, from the beginning of harvest until it rained on them from the sky; and she allowed neither the birds of the sky to rest on them by day nor the beasts of the field by night.” — 2 Samuel 21:10
If the love of a woman to her slain sons could make her prolong her mournful vigil for so long a period, shall we grow weary of considering the sufferings of our blessed Lord? She drove away the birds of prey; shall not we chase from our meditations those worldly and sinful thoughts which defile both our minds and the sacred themes upon which we are occupied? Away, you birds of evil wing! Leave the sacrifice alone! She bore the heats of summer, the night dew and the rains, unsheltered and alone. Sleep was chased from her weeping eyes: her heart was too full for slumber. Behold how she loved her children! Shall Rizpah therefore endure, and shall we flinch at the first little inconvenience or trial? Are we such cowards that we cannot bear to suffer with our Lord? She even chased away the wild beasts, with courage befitting a warrior; will we not be ready to encounter every foe for Jesus’ sake? These — her children — were slain by other hands than hers, and yet she wept and watched: what should we do who have, by our sins, crucified our Lord? Our obligation is boundless, our love should be fervent and our repentance thorough. To watch with Jesus should be our business, to protect his honor our occupation, to abide by his cross our comfort. Those ghastly corpses might well have terrified Rizpah, especially at night; but in our Lord, at the foot of whose cross we are sitting, there is nothing revolting, but everything is attractive. Never was living beauty so enchanting as a dying Savior. Jesus, we will watch with you yet awhile, and you will graciously unveil yourself to us; then we shall not sit beneath sackcloth, but in a royal pavilion.

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