July 3

"They shall look upon Me whom they have pierced."—Zechariah 12:10.

So I brought—I had my own part and lot in bringing—the unutterable anguish on the Lamb of God. Not the chief priests alone, and Judas the false disciple, and the rough Roman legionaries, and the fickle multitudes: not these only were His crucifiers. I wove the crown of thorns for His brow. I nailed Him to the shameful Tree. My disobedience and my guiltiness led Him out to His bitter death.

But I am healed with His stripes. If I am humbled and convicted of sin when I consider Calvary, I am gladdened also. After the midnight of poignant self-accusation, there is the dawn of a divine and endless peace. It was for me that my Lord's unblemished body was bared and broken. He assumed my misery, and reaped the harvest I had sown. Thus I, once Graceless of the City of Destruction, but now Christian of the Pilgrim way, I have rest by His sorrow and life by His death.

And all that I have to do is to look upon Him. Not by works of righteousness, not by tears and penances and prayers and gifts, do I attain with difficulty and after long delays to salvation. My redemption is fulfilled already, and I need simply to turn with a trustful spirit to Him who has accomplished it. This is the medicine of heaven which ends my disease and despair.

First I am stricken with self-reproach. But, as I linger on the Hill of the Cross, my sorrow is changed into song, and I go on my way with a merry heart. "The blood of Christ ransom me, and the water wash me, and the bruises heal me, and the sweat refresh me, and the wound hide me."