March 31, Evening

C. H. Spurgeon · Modern retelling

"And Rizpah the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth, and spread it for her upon the rock, from the beginning of harvest until water dropped upon them out of heaven, and suffered neither the birds of the air to rest on them by day, nor the beasts of the field by night." — 2 Samuel 21:10 · KJV

If a woman's love for her slain sons could make her keep up her mournful vigil so long, shall we grow weary of considering the sufferings of our blessed Lord? She drove away the birds of prey — and shall we not chase from our meditations those worldly and sinful thoughts that defile both our minds and the sacred themes we are occupied with? Away, you birds of evil wing! Leave the sacrifice alone! She bore the heat of summer, the night dews 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 endure so much, 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 chased away even the wild beasts, with uncommon courage; and shall we not be ready to face every foe for Jesus' sake? These her children were slain by other hands than hers, and yet she wept and watched; what ought we to do, who by our sins have crucified our Lord? Our obligations are boundless, our love should be fervent, and our repentance thorough. To watch with Jesus should be our business, to guard His honor our occupation, to abide by His cross our solace. Those ghastly corpses might well have terrified Rizpah, especially by night; but in our Lord, at whose cross-foot we sit, there is nothing revolting, but everything attractive. Never was living beauty so enchanting as a dying Savior. Jesus, we will watch with You yet a while; and do You graciously unveil Yourself to us — then shall we sit, not beneath sackcloth, but in a royal pavilion.