March 8

"I delivered unto you that which I also received."—1 Corinthians 15:3.

LET me hearken to what is the sum of the gospel. Let me handle the wondrous sword with which Paul vanquished the heathen gods from India to Gibraltar.

Christ died for my sins. In my place He stood condemned, outcast, forsaken of man and of God. Death and the curse were in my cup, but He has drained it, and for me it is empty now. "That bitter cup, Love drank it up." By His stripes and passion I am healed.

Christ was buried. He laid Himself down to rest for a little while in Joseph's tomb. And thus He has hallowed and beautified the grave for me. It is become my quiet habitation. It is diversorium viatoris Hierosolymam proficiscentis, as good Dean Alford's tombstone says—the hostel of a traveller on his way to Jerusalem.

Christ hath been raised on the third day. It is the pledge that the Father and the Judge has accepted His doing and His dying on my behalf. It is the pattern of my rising into spiritual life here. It is the prophecy of my inheritance of eternal glory hereafter.

Christ hath appeared to Cephas, to the Twelve, to the Five Hundred, to James, to Saul of Tarsus—ay, to me also, who am less than the least of all saints. By His Word and by His Spirit He has called me out of darkness into marvellous light. I have seen Him for myself. I have heard His prevailing and conquering voice.

It is a simple gospel. Yet it is very full and very significant, very potent and very gladdening. If—how true the word is which the old Father wrote about it—if there are shallows in it where a little child may wade, there are depths where a giant must swim.