April 2

"But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world."—Galatians 6:14.

THERE were three Crosses on the Hill of Calvary long ago—one that of the King of Love, two those of the slaves of sin. On my Mount of Salvation there are three crosses still; and on one the Heavenly Victim dies, and on the other two the victims that are earthly and evil.

The first is the Cross of my Lord Jesus Christ, so full of dreary desolation for Him, so full of life and peace for me—the charter of my pardon, my acceptance with God, my heirship in the glorious household of the King of kings. God forbid that I should boast in anything other than it. It will be my song in time and eternity.

The second is the Cross of this present world. Since I met my Saviour, the world, which used to bulk so large in my regard, has received for me a mortal wound. Formerly it was "a sight which, day and night, filled an eye's span"; now it is "a hollow thing, a lie, a vanity, tinsel and paint." Its ambitions, its prizes, its pleasures, its friendships—every one of them is fallen from its high estate, and other motives govern me now.

And the third is my own Cross. For I myself share my Lord's death. I am initiated into the mystery of His sacrifice. I am separated, by a gulf like that of the grave, from my old thoughts and ways, my old loves and hates, my old being and doing. I have died and risen again, quickened by the same Almighty power that quickened my Redeemer these many years ago.

Three Crosses on my Calvary as on Christ's Calvary nineteen centuries since.