Sermon 2683. The Bitterness of the Cross

(No. 2683)




"They...shall be in bitterness for Him." Zechaariah 12:10.

You know, dear Friends, that this text primarily refers to the Jewish nation. They will not always be blinded as they areat present. The veil will ultimately be taken away from their eyes and their heart. And when it is taken away, it will notbe by the enlightenment of mere reason, or through the process of argument by itself, but it will be through the outpouringof the Spirit of our God! The verse from which our text is taken makes this quite clear-"I will pour upon the house of David,and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the Spirit of Grace and of supplications."

Our Lord Jesus Christ can only be seen in His own light. The Grace of God must be given to us before we can see and understandChrist at all-and this shall be the great proof that Grace has been given to Israel-that they shall look upon Christ. It isgood evidence that Grace has been given to any man when he looks upon Christ, obeying the great command-"Look unto Me, andbe you saved, all the ends of the earth." This is the first sign and token of Believers and it is to be our continual distinguishingmark, for we are always to be "looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith." There is much more in a look atChrist than many suppose-it is the index of everything that appertains to the Christian life. There must be life in an eyethat can see and when there is life in the eye, there is life in the whole man who possesses that eye. When an eye can seeChrist, it can see other things that He intends it to see. That eye which has been enabled to behold Him and which has taughtthe heart to cry, "My Lord and my God," is prepared to see all the wondrous things that are in God's Law!

The first mark of Grace, then, in the Jew, will be that he shall look to Christ. By that word, "look," I do not understanda mere transient glance at Him, but a long, lingering, wistful, discerning, penetrating, loving look at Him and unto Him,as it is in that verse, "They looked unto Him, and were lightened." At first, it may be only a furtive stolen glance, butwhen men come to see and feel the full power of Christ, they will want to have a long, fixed, steady gaze at Him. Blessedwill be the day when the Jews shall be brought even to think seriously about Christ! At present, they will scarcely listento the arguments concerning Him. They denounce the Nazarene and close their ears against His Gospel, but the day shall comewhen they will hear, when they will listen diligently and incline their ears and come unto Him that their soul may live. Theyshall look, and look, and look, and look, and look, until the vision shall, at last, break in upon their very soul-and thenthey shall say, "It is He! Yes, it is He of whom Moses in the Law and the Prophets did write. This is no other than the promisedMessiah, the Son of David and, alas, up to now, both we and our fathers have rejected Him." And as they thus look and realizethe greatness of their guilt, they will begin to weep and lament that they have so long refused their only Savior.

So the first effect upon the Jews of a true sight of Christ-and, as we are all constituted so much alike, the first effectupon any man who has a true sight of Christ-is that it produces sincere sorrow. "They shall look upon Me whom they have pierced,and they shall mourn for Him, as one mourns for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for Him, as one that is in bitternessfor his firstborn." I must confess that I have no love for a dry-eyed faith. The faith that never wept over sin will haveto be wept over, one of these days. If you say that you have seen Christ and yet you have never bemoaned yourself, and mournedover your transgressions, I think you must have seen a false christ, and not the true Son of

God, for they who behold His wounds are, themselves, wounded. They who gaze upon His pierced heart are, themselves, piercedto the heart-no, they are pierced inthe heart. And they who, by faith, see the flowing of His precious blood, feel their veryhearts bleed on account of Him and all that He endured on their behalf. A sight of His Crucifixion crucifies sin! A sightof His death-if it is a true sight-is the death of all love of sin! If, then, you have never felt the mournful effect of thesorrowful spectacle of the bleeding Savior, you still have need to stand and to look, and look, and look again, until youdo feel it, for so it will always be-"They shall look upon Me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn."

That is the general thought of this verse-the Jews will look to Christ and they will mourn. And the same thing happens withGentiles-they also look to Christ and mourn. So the theme we are to consider is the wonderful Truth of God that when we rightlylook to Christ, whether we are Jews or Gentiles, we are "in bitterness for Him, as one that is in bitterness for his firstborn."It is quite true that of all sights in the world, the sight of Christ crucified is the sweetest. People say, "See Naples anddie." But it would be worthwhile to see Christ, by faith, even if that sight were necessarily followed by death. Of all thatcan be seen in the world, there is nothing so delightful as a believing sight of Jesus Christ. I appeal to all of you whoseeyes have ever been ravished with that wondrous vision-do you not say to your Lord-

"A glimpse-a single glimpse of You,

Would more delight my soul

Than this vain world, with all its joys,

Could I possess the whole"?

At first sight it seems strange that the mourner turns his eyes sooner to the place called Calvary than to the sacred spotwhere the star of Bethlehem shone. And still more strange that there should be more delight to be found in Gab-batha and Golgothathan even in the Mount of Transfiguration. The Cross of Christ is the first resort of sorrow for sin and it is the last abodeof holy Grief-where she lays aside her weeds and puts on her beautiful array. Yet there must be some bitterness always associatedwith Calvary-do not be startled at that thought. The command concerning the paschal lamb was. "With bitter herbs shall youeat it." So marvel not that the Lamb of God, however sweet He is, and however nourishing to our souls, can never be enjoyedby us without the bitter herbs of godly sorrow for sin. "They shall mourn for Him, as one mourns for his only son, and shallbe in bitterness for Him." And that bitterness shall be of the most intense kind-"as one that is in bitterness for his firstborn."

Our line of thought will be this. First, I want to point out to you that our first sight of Christ brings bitterness. Then,secondly, I will try to show you that our continued sight of Christ works in us throughout life a measure of the same bitterness.And, thirdly, I will ask you to notice that this bitterness has most gracious effects upon us.

I. First, then, I want to point out to you that OUR FIRST SIGHT OF CHRIST BRINGS BITTERNESS INTO OUR SOUL.

When a man, for the first time, by faith, sees Christ upon the Cross and understands the meaning of His great substi-tutionarySacrifice, he is bitterly grieved because he has not known Him before. Imagine the case of a Jew who has, perhaps, lived ina nominally Christian country for 50 years. He has frequently heard the name of Jesus mentioned in various ways, but he hasalways received it with indignation, possibly even with ridicule. It is quite likely that he has spoken very bitter thingsagainst the Nazarene, repeating the old stories current among his race concerning the Prophet of Nazareth and, all the while,thinking that he was doing service to Jehovah by rejecting One whom he supposed to be a pretender. Imagine that man, all ofa sudden, convinced that Jesus of Nazareth is, indeed, the Son of God, the only Savior of sinners, the promised hope of Israel'sseed! Why, I think if there were not many sweet and precious thoughts to be mingled with the bitter ones, he would be almostdriven to utter despair! Surely he would, with humble penitence and many tears, fall down at that dear Savior's feet, andcry, "Forgive me, Lord, every opprobrious epithet that I have ever uttered. Pardon me for every scornful word that I havespoken. Forget every hard and cruel speech that I have made against You, O You bleeding Lamb of God, whose blood takes awaythe sin of the world!"

I beseech some of you who are not Jews, but sinners of the Gentiles, to remember that your position is no better than theirsand, in some respects, it is even worse! I know mine was, because I knew Jesus to be the Messiah. I never had a doubt aboutthat and yet I did not believe in Him. I acknowledged Him to be the Son of God. From my childhood I was taught that greatTruth of God and I accepted it as a fact, yet I did not obey Him as my Lord and my God. I knew Him to be the only Savior ofsinners and if anyone had spoken contrary to that Truth in my presence, my indignation would have

burned against him! Yet, all the while, so far as my own consciousness was concerned, He was no Savior to me. I knew thatHe hung on the Cross that He might save the guilty, but I did not, for a long time, realize that I had a personal interestin His saving Grace. From my own experience, I am sure that the bitterness of anyone who has sinned in that way, when at lasthe understands the great plan of salvation and finds that Christ loved him and gave himself to death for him, must be quiteas great as the bitterness of the Jews who make the same discovery.

For, lo, my Brothers and Sisters, they did it ignorantly in unbelief-but you and I have done it wantonly, or at least carelesslyand indifferently-knowing that we were rejecting our mother's Savior and our father's Christ. Herein is much of bitternessthat you ought to feel-and when you do get a true view of Jesus as your Substitute and Savior, you will feel it very acutelyand you will say to yourself, "Oh, that I had known Him before! Oh, that I had loved Him before! Oh, that I had trusted Himbefore! Alas, that all these years should have been wasted and that I should have chosen sin rather than the Savior-and thepleasures of the world sooner than the delights of His dear love!" I know that you will have bitterness about that matterwhen you really come to Christ for salvation.

Next, there will come over your soul, when you get a true sight of Christ, much bitterness on account of your having slightedthe extraordinary love of Christ to you. This Truth of God will come home to your heart with amazing power. "He loved me andgave Himself for me. For me He wore that crown of thorns. For me He endured that terrible scourging. For me He bore the piercingof those nails. For me He agonized unto that bloody sweat. For me He suffered even unto death." And then you will say, "Andyet I have been, all this while, slighting Him! Others have loved me and I have returned their love, ashamed to be thoughtungrateful. But all of them put together have never loved me as He has done, yet I have been His enemy and, as far as I could,I have opposed Him! He has stood outside my door and knocked, and I have kept Him waiting there till His head has been filledwith dew and His locks with the drops of the night. Woe is me! Woe is me, that I should have treated so ill my best Friend!"

It is long, dear Brothers and Sisters, since my heart ceased to shut Him out. I admitted Him long ago, but even while I amtalking to you about it, I feel all the old bitterness of that sad past coming over me. I could stand here and weep to thinkthat, though I loved Him comparatively early in life, I did not love Him earlier and did not sooner yield to His persistentknocking and to the gracious pressure of His infinite love. Another bitterness which ought soon to be banished, steals overthe heart-it is this, the fear lest Christ shouldnot be ours, after all I have known some who have understood the Doctrineof the Cross right well and have believed in the great love of Jesus Christ for sinners. But then there has come over theirmind and heart that dark doubting thought, "Will His blood be available for us? Will He ever be ours? After years of rejectingHim, shall we ever find Him, or have we forever missed Him? Is our day of Grace past, or does He still wait to be gracious?Will He still accept us, or has He gone away, saying, 'I will give them up; they are joined unto idols, so I will leave themalone'?"

Oh, the bitterness of such questions as those! To see Living Water, clear as crystal, leaping up close by you and yet to fearthat you may not drink of it! To see the Bread of Life placed upon the table and yet to doubt whether your unworthy lips mayever taste of that heavenly food! That is bitterness, indeed, but let it be a bitterness that goes away at once and forever,for there is no question about that matter! If you will believe in Jesus, that is proof positive that God wills it. The questionis never about God's will when once your will is surrendered to Christ. If you are willing to accept Christ, it is becauseit is the day of God's power and He has made you willing. If you will have Christ, He presents Himself to you with this graciousword, "Whoever will, let him take the water of life freely." So let that bitter thought be nailed up to the Cross and dieforever!

Then there follows, over and above all this, the black, bitter thought that our sin caused His death on the tree. The awakenedsoul sighs, "My sins! My sins! My sins!" Nothing ever reveals sin like the Cross of Christ. Milton pictures Ithuriel withhis spear touching the toad that lay squatting at Eve's ear-and suddenly it arose in the form of the dark fiend of Hell! Sodoes the Cross touch what we thought to be only mistakes and errors-and they rise before us in their true character as hellishsins! In the light of Calvary, sin does like itself appear-and what is the likeness of sin there? Why, the murderer of theSon of God-the murderer of the Prince of Life-the murderer of man's best Friend whose only crime was this-"found guilty ofexcess of love" and, therefore, He must die! O Sin, is this what you are? Are you a God-killing thing? I have heard of menbeing guilty of regicide, but what shall I say concerning Deicide? Yet Sin virtu-

ally and as much as it can, stabs at the Godhead, crying, with the wicked husbandmen, "This is the Heir! Come, let us killHim and the inheritance shall be ours."

This is the terrible character of sin-it will imbrue its hands in the blood of Him who is perfectly innocent and perfectlybenevolent. It will take man's best Friend by the throat, condemn Him as if He were a felon, nail Him to the Cross and thenstand and gaze at Him and mock His very death-throes! There is nothing upon earth that is so devilish as sin. Oh, to whatextremes of atrocity has sin not gone? And such is your sin and mine, to a greater or lesser degree. A sight of the Cross,therefore, brings bitterness into the soul because it shows us what sin is and what are its ultimate issues and true designsif it could carry them out. Never do we smite upon our breast so hard as when we see the Cross of Jesus. We are condemnedat the Mercy Seat even more fully than we are at the Judgment Seat. This is the condemnation of sin in the soul of man, thathe sees what it did in murdering the Christ of God and this causes the repenting sinner to "be in bitterness for Him, as onethat is in bitterness for his firstborn."

To this is added another source of bitterness, namely, the discovery of the wrath of God on account of sin. You stand in imaginationand look at Jesus Christ dying upon the Cross and you say to yourself, "The Romans are here and the Jews are here, and allmen are here, representatively, but there is Someone greater than all these here." Then there comes to you from the ancientprophecy this message, "It pleased the Lord to bruise Him; He has put Him to grief: when You shall make His soul an offeringfor sin, He shall see His seed, He shall prolong His days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in His hand." Yes, GodHimself put Christ into the sinner's place through wondrous love to us, and as Christ stood in the sinner's place, thougha sinner He could never be, God treated Him as if He were actually the sinner! Look how the Father's wrath burns against humansin! He could not be angry with His well-beloved Son, but, inasmuch as Christ stood in the sinner's place, God poured outthe vials of His wrath upon Him just as if He had been guilty! Behold how the Father smites Him! These are His words, "Awake,O sword." Will not the rod suffice, great God? No. "Awake, O sword, against My Shepherd, and against the Man that is My Fellow,says the Lord of Hosts. Smite the Shepherd."

But will not some common smiting be sufficient? No, to the very heart He must be smitten, and Jesus must die the death ofthe Cross, that we may live forever. "How God must hate sin, then, and what wrath must fall upon me!" That is the convictedsinner's thought. "My sin is personal and actual and not, like Christ's, imputed. And since it is my own, how can God continueto bear with me?" And the dark suggestion comes into the soul, "He will not bear with you much longer, for it is written,'I will ease Me of My adversaries.'" Yes, verily, a true sight of the Cross makes us full of bitterness on account of theawful guilt of sin and the Divine wrath which it provokes!

And then comes the bitterness of the dread of never being forgiven. The convinced sinner says, "God spared not His only-begottenSon when sin was laid upon Him! Then, surely, He will not spare me! I am full of guilt and I have within me a fountain ofevil which is perpetually bubbling up with foulness-how can the pure and holy God spare me? Where can I flee to get away fromHis Presence? How can I escape from the bolts of His righteous wrath? Let me fly where I may, He will pursue me and overtakeme and destroy me!" Do any of you know what it is to feel like this? I remember when I did. I was in such terror that I fearedlest every step I took should be my last-and that I should stumble first into my grave and then into Hell! "Did the Crossreallymake you feel like that?" you ask. Yes, certainly, for I could not but think that, though Jesus cried, "My God, my God,why have You forsaken Me?" I could never have to ask that question because I knewwhy God had forsaken me-my sin was sufficientto drive Him away from me forever!

I feel quite sure that God intends our first sight of Christ to fill our soul with bitterness and, therefore, I ask you mostseriously to question your conversion unless there was some measure of this bitterness mingled with it. A sinner's sight ofChrist must breed sorrow for sin-it is unavoidable-and the more clear that sight shall become, and the more it is mixed withfaith, and the more sure we are of pardon, the more bitterness will there be in it. When we know that our sins are forgiven,it is then that we, most of all, realize their guilt and abhor and hate them. That hymn which we sometimes sing exactly setsforth this Truth of God-

"My sins, my sins, my Savior,

How sad on You they fall!

Seen through Your gentle patience,

I tenfold feel them all.

I know they are forgiven,

But still their pain to me

Is all the grief and anguish They laid, my Lord, on Thee. My sins, my sins, my Savior! Their guilt I never knew Till, withYou, in the desert I near Your passion drew. Till with You in the garden I heard Your pleading prayer, And saw the bloodydrops of sweat That told Your sorrow there." II. Now, secondly, OUR CONTINUED SIGHT OF CHRIST WORKS IN US THROUGHOUT LIFEA MEASURE OF THE SAME BITTERNESS.

For, first, as the great love of Christ is better known, it brings deeper grief for sin. We then more deeply lament that wecould ever have slighted such love and that such love could ever have been called to so vast a sacrifice as that which itmade for us. I do not suppose, Beloved, that your knowledge of the love of Christ at first was at all comparable to what itis now. If you have studied in the school of Christ's love and have believed it to be the most excellent of all the sciences,you will, by the teaching of the Spirit, and by experience, attain a clearer knowledge of the love of Christ which passesknowledge. And side by side with that will be a growing sense of abhorrence of yourself and detestation of the sin which nailedyour Savior to the tree. It must be so! Deeper love to Christ will breed greater grief and a yet more bitter bitterness onaccount of sin.

There will also be, in your heart, a more intense bitterness arising from the dread of grieving your Lord. Oh, have you notsometimes wished that you could die rather than run any risk of apostasy? I marvel not at the poor Methodist who, when surroundedby blasphemers who seemed as if they would drive him from Christ, fell on his knees and prayed the Lord to take him Home toHeaven, so that he might never again be tempted to go astray. Bitterer than death itself would it be for us to ever dishonorthat dear name by which we are called! Feel you not so, my Brothers and Sisters? I believe that the higher your joy in Christ,the greater will be your fear lest you should bring disgrace upon Him. You stand almost on the top of the mountain of communion-youseem to be transfigured with your Master and to be glowing with the light that streams from Him-yet even there the thoughtcomes to you, "What if, after all this, I should slip with my feet? Peter, who was one of the three with the Lord on the holymount, afterwards denied his Master with oaths and curses! Then, may not I also be found wanting in the time of trial?"

This self-examination is almost necessary to the mellowing of our holy joy. As the sycamore fig never ripens till it is bruised,so there is a high joy of fellowship that needs bruising by a sense of our own weakness before its essential sweetness shallbe fully developed. I have a great fear concerning your condition if you never felt anything of this bitterness- this dreadlest, in thought, or word, or deed, by omission or by commission, you should grieve the sweet and tender love of Christ. Youknow how the spouse said, "I charge you, you daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field"-by all thatis most gentle, and timid, and delicate, and jealous, and full of love-"that you stir not up, nor awake my love, till He pleases."It is thus that the holy soul feels the bitterness of an inward jealousy lest she should be treacherous to her Lord, or thatanything should occur to grieve Him.

The next bitterness is caused by a deeper regret on account of our own unworthiness. I think that those who much love Christand who have had a clear view of His love, can never be satisfied with themselves. Do you ever rise from your knees and say,"I am quite content with that prayer"? If so, I fancy that you cannot have prayed "with groans which cannot be uttered." Didyou ever preach a sermon, Brother, and feel, after it was finished, that you could run up the topgallants and cry, "Neverman preached as I have done"? If so, I am afraid that it was very poor preaching, with many fine feathers in its tail to spreadout like a peacock's, but with few feathers in its wings to make it mount up like an eagle! It will never do for us to besatisfied with ourselves, for vehement love thinks nothing good enough for Christ. When it reaches its best, it says, "Mybest is utter poverty compared with Him." "Oh," says the saint who truly loves his Lord, "I am ashamed to bring Him even mybest offerings and when, sometimes, I lie at His feet and feel that I am perfectly consecrated, I still wish that there wassomething better to consecrate-and that I could keep up that complete consecration at all times and seasons-and under allcircumstances."

But since it is not so with any of us, there is a bitterness that mingles with the very sight of Christ. You may look at yourselfuntil you get quite pleased with yourself, but you cannot remain so when once you look at Him. You know how Job spoke to theLord, when he took his right position before Him, "I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear: but now my eyes see You.Therefore I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes." Those brethren who think themselves perfect had better come and lookat their Lord-and then, if their comeliness is not turned to corruption, I shall be greatly mistaken. A glimpse at Him wouldact like flames of fire turning dry stubble into ashes, for, in a moment, all their glory would be utterly consumed!

Then, again, I am sure there is another bitterness that will always accompany a true sight of Christ, and that is, an intensehorror at man's rejection of Him. Have not you, Beloved, sometimes looked at your Lord and loved and adored Him, till, first,you have pitied men, and afterwards you have pitied Christ? With those who love Christ most, there comes to be, after a time,sympathy with Jesus rather than with men. I can understand how, even when the enemies of God shall be destroyed at the lastand the smoke of their torment shall rise up forever and ever, the perfect ones in Heaven will sing, "Hallelujah." Certainpersons, who are on earth at the present time, if they had been at the Red Sea and seen old Pharaoh's army cast into the depths,would have mournfully said, "This is very, very grievous to us." But as for me, if I had been there, I would have joined withMoses and with Miriam and said, "Sing you to the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider has He throwninto the sea." I confess that I have very little sympathy with Pharaoh, but I have the most intense sympathy with Jehovahand with His people-and I question whether the wonderful sympathy with lost sinners which some people profess to feel, isnot sympathy with their sin as much as with themselves, perhaps unconsciously to those who indulge it.

If we were perfectly holy, we would desire to do just what God does and we would wish God to do exactly what He is doing-andwe would rejoice without question in all the will of God. One result of such a state of mind as that would be that we wouldcry with the Psalmist, "Horror has taken hold upon me because of the wicked that forsake Your Law." I do not know that I everfelt a greater horror in my soul than when, in Rome, I stood at the foot of the Santa Scala-"the holy staircase," as theycall it-on which they pretend to show the marks where our Savior fainted on the stairs in Jerusalem. I saw poor deluded creaturesgo up and down those stairs upon their knees, repeating certain forms of prayer all the while. Ah, me, it did seem horribleand, worst of all, the priests have turned the Christ, Himself, into an idol! There is a little black picture of Him, at thetop of the stairs, which is reputed to have been painted by Luke-and it is kissed and worshipped-and thus even our blessedMaster is made to act the lackey to idolatry! I thought that if I could have borrowed a thunderbolt or two for a little while,I could have made a clean sweep here and there in Rome, but the time for that is not yet. That time will comeand a very cleansweep there will be when the cry is heard, "Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen...And her smoke rose up forever and ever."

But, Brothers and Sisters, there is an intense bitterness in your heart when you truly come to see Christ on the Cross, asyou realize that all people do not believe in Him, that His Kingdom has not yet come and that His will is not done on earthas it is in Heaven. Men still reject Him. They scoff at His Gospel, they despise His cause, they set up idol gods and falsesaviors-and all this is as a dish of bitter herbs to these who really love Him. It seems passing strange that He should everhave entered into this awful battle between good and evil, that He should have come, the foremost and noblest of champions,baring His arm for the war and that in the fight He should not only have sweat, as it were, great drops of blood, but thatHe should have had His heart broken in the fray! Ah, me, how sad it is that He, whom angels worship and in whom God, Himself,delights, should be trampled by the feet of wicked men like mire in the streets-that they should dare to defile with theirspit that face which outshines the sun and pour contempt and scorn upon Him who fills eternity with the splendors of the Deity!

All this is like bitter herbs to those who love Him. Still, the final victory will be won by Him and it will be worth allthat it costs! Up the everlasting hills He has already ascended, victor from the fight and today He divides the spoil withthe strong. But, oh, that it had been possible for that bitter cup to have passed from Him! Oh, that it had been possiblethat He should not drink the Hell-draught! Yet He did drink it to the last dregs-it is all over now-glory be to His holy name!But the taste of the bitter herbs is always present with the true Paschal Lamb to those who spiritually feed thereon by faith.


First, it must be evident to you all that this bitterness works great hatred of sin. We see how cruel sin has been to Christand we, therefore, seek to avoid it. The burnt child dreads the fire, but we are not quite in that condition. We dread thefire of sin because it burned the Savior-that is why we hate it so intensely. Sin murdered Him-can we ever tolerate it? Couldanyone ever play with the knife that had killed his best friend? Could he preserve it as a choice treasure? No, he would,if he could, fling it into the depths of oblivion! And Sin, you cruel murderous thing that slew our Savior, we would takerevenge upon you! We abhor you! God has made you bitter to us and there dwells in that bitterness a power that helps to sanctifyus.

But, next, that bitterness makes Christ very sweet ' 'Why," you ask, "how is that?" Well, I suppose that the bitter herbsmade the paschal lamb taste all the sweeter to the Israelite of old, and I am sure that a bitter sense of sin, bitter regretsthat we should ever have cost our Savior so much and a bitter sense of our own unworthiness all make Christ more preciousto us. It is like the two balances in a pair of scales-when you go up, Christ goes down-and when you go down, down, down,down, to nothing, and far below zero, then Christ goes up. No man can know the sweetness of Christ who has not tasted thebitterness of sin.

Next, it makes all worldly things lose their taste. If you get some of the bitterness that comes of mourning about Christ,the sweetest things of the world will have but very little attraction for you. I will give you an illustration of this Truthof God. Suppose you had an only son and that you lost him-would not everything look dark about you? It comes home to a man'sheart very heavily when such a treasure is taken away from him. He has a farm, but he has no joy in it. The old home seemsto be a very dreary place to him now. He wishes to move away from it and to forget all it contained. That is the kind of bitternessof which our text speaks-"They shall mourn for Him, as one mourns for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for Him, asone that is in bitterness for his firstborn." And thus the world loses its charms for true Believers. As Paul says, "It remainsthat both they that have wives be as though they had none; and they that weep, as though they wept not; and they that rejoice,as though they rejoiced not," because a stronger flavor has taken possession of their palate and made them forget everythingelse. Thus, the bitterness of mourning for Christ takes away the power to enjoy the sweets of this world.

But there is something better than that, for it removes the bitterness from the things of this life. Suppose you suffer greatpain. Yesterday I was by the side of a dear Sister in Christ who has undergone terrible pain, and she said to me, "Thoughtsof the Lord Jesus, and of His sufferings were so sweet to me that I seemed only to remember my own griefs as they helped meto remember His." That is how it should be with each of us. As we are called to suffer, we should say-

"His way was much rougher and darker than mine, Did Christ, my Lord, suffer, and shall I repine?"

How often the bitterness of poverty has vanished when men have thought of Him who had nowhere to lay His head! How frequentlythe bitterness of persecution has departed when His followers have remembered that He was despised and rejected of men-a Manof Sorrows and acquainted with grief! One brings us what he says is a bitter draught and we say, "Do you call that bitter?I have tasted something much more bitter than that. I can drink it, and even rejoice in it, since I have been taught how totake the very gall of bitterness, that which has the intensity of the bitterest Peruvian bark- sympathy with my Savior inHis awful sufferings."

And let me also tell you, dear Brothers and Sisters, that one effect of this bitterness upon the soul that feels it is totake away all bitterness against your fellow men. If you have really felt the bitterness of your sin against Christ, you havesaid to yourself, "Well, now, after this I must be sweet, gentle, kind, tender and forgiving towards others. Somebody hasoffended me. Ah, but then how much I offended God! He says he will not ask my forgiveness. Yes, but my Lord prayed for thosewho put Him to death and said, 'Father, forgive them,' though they sought not forgiveness! Must not I do the same?" I am surethat if you mourn on account of your own sin, you will be the last person in the world to be harsh and severe in your judgmentupon others. You will say, "I cannot take up the stone to cast at them, even if others do so." The poor harlot comes beforethe Savior and the self-righteous Pharisees will accuse her-but none of us, I think, will do so, for who among us has notbeen guilty? And if we have been pardoned, how can we condemn others? I charge any of you who harbor ill-will against othersto remember that you cannot be Christians if you carry that foul serpent in your bosom! You can bring no acceptable sacrificesto God's Altar while you are at enmity against your brother. "He that loves not his brother whom he has seen, how can he loveGod whom he has not seen?" Whatever else you may or may not

do, this you must do-forgive as you would be forgiven and let the bitterness of your sympathy with Christ take away from yournature all bitterness, harshness, unkindness and malice towards your fellow men.

Last of all, in this bitterness with Christ, there is an unutterable sweetness. If I were asked when I have felt most happy,if the question were put to me in the most unlimited sense-"When did you feel such happiness as you could wish always to feel?"-Iwould not quote any of the days of earth's mirth, for, as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the best of mortal merriment.I could not even quote the day in which I first knew the Lord because, though there was an intensity of delight about it,it was not so deep as the joy I am going to mention. Neither, if I had to ask for a joy that might continue with me, shouldI ask to have the high delights which I have often experienced when in sweetest fellowship with my Lord, for that kind ofjoyis killing-we cannot endure much of it. But I think that the sweetest joy I ever felt was when, racked with pain and brokenall asunder, I fell back upon the Omnipotent Love of God, like a child who cannot walk, or move, or even stand, but just lieson its mother's breast quite passive, quite at peace.

I think that mourning for sin is as sweet a flower as blooms outside Heaven. I suppose that pearl of flowers blooms not onthe other side of Jordan. It is the only flower on earth that I would like to carry there, just as Rowland Hill used to saythat repentance and he had kept such sweet company that the only regret he had about Heaven was that he supposed he wouldnot repent there. Well, all that is good we shall have there-"and there shall in no wise enter into it anything that defiles."But I assure you, from my own experience, that the still, calm, quiet joy which does not well up out of yourself, but comesinto you direct from Christ, by the way of the Cross-that dew which falls not on Hermon, but on Calvary-is the rarest andbrightest dew that ever charms us this side of Glory!

God give you all to know, to the fullest extent, the sweet bitterness-the bitter sweetness-that comes of a sight of ChristCrucified, for His dear name's sake! Amen.