Morning & Evening – June 25 | Spurgeon Devotional

Morning

Scripture

> Go on up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good news; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good news; lift it up, fear not; say to the cities of Judah, “Behold your God!” > > — Isaiah 40:9 (ESV)

Devotional

Our knowledge of Christ is somewhat like climbing one of our Welsh mountains. When you are at the base you see but little: the mountain itself appears to be but one-half as high as it really is. Confined in a little valley, you discover scarcely anything but the rippling brooks as they descend into the stream at the foot of the mountain. Climb the first rising knoll, and the valley lengthens and widens beneath your feet. Go higher, and you see the country for four or five miles round, and you are delighted with the widening prospect. Mount still, and the scene enlarges; till at last, when you are on the summit, and look east, west, north, and south, you see almost all England lying before you. Yonder is a forest in some distant county, perhaps two hundred miles away, and here the sea, and there a shining river and the smoking chimneys of a manufacturing town, or the masts of the ships in a busy port. All these things please and delight you, and you say, “I could not have imagined that so much could be seen at this elevation.” Now, the Christian life is of the same order. When we first believe in Christ we see but little of him. The higher we climb the more we discover of his beauties. But who has ever gained the summit? Who has known all the heights and depths of the love of Christ which passes knowledge? Paul, when grown old, sitting grey-haired, shivering in a dungeon in Rome, could say with greater emphasis than we can, “I know whom I have believed,” for each experience had been like the climbing of a hill, each trial had been like ascending another summit, and his death seemed like gaining the top of the mountain, from which he could see the whole of the faithfulness and the love of him to whom he had committed his soul. Get thee up, dear friend, into the high mountain.

Reflection

Spurgeon compares the believer’s growing knowledge of Christ to climbing a Welsh mountain. At the base, the view is limited; as one ascends higher, the perspective expands dramatically until almost everything comes into view. So it is with Christ: when we first believe, we see little of him. The higher we climb through experience, trial, communion, and the Word, the more of his beauties we discover. Paul’s knowledge deepened with every “summit” of suffering and service. What we might miss is that there is no final summit in this life. No one has fully known the heights and depths of the love of Christ. The call is ongoing: “Get thee up, dear friend, into the high mountain.”

Goad

Are you content with the limited view of Christ you had when you first believed, or are you actively climbing higher through the means of grace so that you may know more of his beauties? What would it look like today to treat your knowledge of Christ as an ascent that requires continued effort and dependence on him?

Evening

Scripture

> But the dove found no place to set her foot, and she returned to him to the ark, for the waters were still on the face of the whole earth. So he put out his hand and took her and brought her into the ark with him. > > — Genesis 8:9 (ESV)

Devotional

Reader, can you find rest apart from the ark, Christ Jesus? Then be assured that your religion is vain. Are you satisfied with anything short of a conscious knowledge of your union and interest in Christ? Then woe unto you. If you profess to be a Christian, yet find full satisfaction in worldly pleasures and pursuits, your profession is false. If your soul can stretch herself at rest, and find the bed long enough, and the coverlet broad enough to cover her in the chambers of sin, then you are a hypocrite, and far enough from any right thoughts of Christ or perception of his preciousness. But if, on the other hand, you feel that if you could indulge in sin without punishment, yet it would be a punishment of itself; and that if you could have the whole world, and abide in it forever, it would be quite enough misery not to be parted from it; for your God—your God—is what your soul craves after; then be of good courage, thou art a child of God. With all thy sins and imperfections, take this to thy comfort: if thy soul has no rest in sin, thou are not as the sinner is! If thou art still crying after and craving after something better, Christ has not forgotten thee, for thou hast not quite forgotten him. The believer cannot do without his Lord; words are inadequate to express his thoughts of him. We cannot live on the sands of the wilderness, we want the manna which drops from on high; our skin bottles of creature confidence cannot yield us a drop of moisture, but we drink of the rock which follows us, and that rock is Christ. When you feed on him your soul can sing, “He hath satisfied my mouth with good things, so that my youth is renewed like the eagle’s,” but if you have him not, your bursting wine vat and well-filled barn can give you no sort of satisfaction: rather lament over them in the words of wisdom, “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity!”

Reflection

Spurgeon presses the question of where the soul finds rest. The dove found no rest until it returned to the ark. Likewise, the believer can find no true rest apart from Christ. Worldly pleasures, sin, and even creature comforts ultimately fail to satisfy. The soul that has tasted Christ cannot rest in anything else; it craves him and finds its only satisfaction when feeding on him, the Rock that follows. What we might miss is that this dissatisfaction with the world is itself a mark of grace. If the soul can stretch itself at rest in sin or the world, the profession is false. True rest is found only in union with Christ.

Goad

Are you finding your soul stretching at rest in worldly pleasures, sin, or self-sufficiency, or do you still feel that only Christ can satisfy and that apart from him there is no rest? What would it look like today to turn from every other “ark” and rest fully in Jesus as your only hope and portion?

Tie-In

The morning calls us higher in our knowledge of Christ, like ascending a mountain to see more of his beauties. The evening reminds us that even as we climb, our soul finds no ultimate rest except in the Ark, Christ Jesus. The higher we go in knowing him, the more we discover that he alone satisfies the craving of the heart. Both point to a life of increasing intimacy with and dependence on the Saviour alone.

Closing

Spurgeon’s classic text with AI-assisted reflection and formatting to maintain daily consistency and reach. If these words have stirred something in your heart today, we invite you to sit with it. Share how God met you in the comments or reach out to us. As we build out the deeper tables of Milk, Solid Food, and Meat for every stage of the journey, know that you are welcome here. NewGrapes Ministries Making disciples, not pew-fillers. Soli Deo Gloria.