The cross is the hill of comfort, the house of consolation built with its wood, and the temple of heavenly blessing founded upon the wounded Christ pierced by the spear. No scene in sacred history gladdens the soul like Jesus' death. "Is it not strange, the darkest hour that ever dawned on sinful earth should touch the heart with softer power, for comfort, than an angel's mirth? That to the Cross the mourner's eye should turn, sooner than where the stars of Bethlehem burn?" Light springs from the midday midnight of Golgotha, and every herb blooms sweetly beneath the shadow of the once accursed tree.

In that place of thirst, grace has unearthed a fountain that flows with pure, crystal waters, each drop capable of easing the woes of mankind. Those who have faced conflicts will confess that comfort was not found at Olivet, Sinai, nor Tabor, but through Gethsemane, Gabbatha, and Golgotha. The bitter herbs of Gethsemane have often soothed life's bitterness. The scourge of Gabbatha has often driven away your cares, and the groans of Calvary have silenced all other groans. Calvary offers rare and rich comfort. We wouldn't know Christ's love in all its depths if he hadn't died, nor could we understand the Father's deep affection without the gift of His Son's sacrifice. Everyday mercies hint at love, like a sea-shell whispers of the vast ocean it came from. But to truly know love, we must look not at daily blessings, but at the crucifixion. To know love deeply, go to Calvary and see the Man of sorrows die.