Morning “Abel was a keeper of sheep.” / Genesis 4:2

As a shepherd Abel sanctified his work to the glory of God, and offered a

sacrifice of blood upon his altar, and the Lord had respect unto Abel and his

offering. This early type of our Lord is exceedingly clear and distinct. Like

the first streak of light which tinges the east at sunrise, it does not reveal

everything, but it clearly manifests the great fact that the sun is coming. As

we see Abel, a shepherd and yet a priest, offering a sacrifice of sweet smell

unto God, we discern our Lord, who brings before his Father a sacrifice to

which Jehovah ever hath respect. Abel was hated by his brother–hated without

a cause; and even so was the Saviour: the natural and carnal man hated the

accepted man in whom the Spirit of grace was found, and rested not until his

blood had been shed. Abel fell, and sprinkled his altar and sacrifice with his

own blood, and therein sets forth the Lord Jesus slain by the enmity of man

while serving as a priest before the Lord. “The good Shepherd layeth down his

life for the sheep.” Let us weep over him as we view him slain by the hatred

of mankind, staining the horns of his altar with his own blood. Abel’s blood

speaketh. “The Lord said unto Cain, The voice of thy brother’s blood crieth

unto me from the ground.'” The blood of Jesus hath a mighty tongue, and the

import of its prevailing cry is not vengeance but mercy. It is precious beyond

all preciousness to stand at the altar of our good Shepherd! to see him

bleeding there as the slaughtered priest, and then to hear his blood speaking

peace to all his flock, peace in our conscience, peace between Jew and

Gentile, peace between man and his offended Maker, peace all down the ages of

eternity for blood-washed men. Abel is the first shepherd in order of time,

but our hearts shall ever place Jesus first in order of excellence. Thou great

Keeper of the sheep, we the people of thy pasture bless thee with our whole

hearts when we see thee slain for us.

 

Evening “Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity; and quicken thou me in thy way.” /

Psalm 119:37

There are divers kinds of vanity. The cap and bells of the fool, the mirth of

the world, the dance, the lyre, and the cup of the dissolute, all these men

know to be vanities; they wear upon their forefront their proper name and

title. Far more treacherous are those equally vain things, the cares of this

world and the deceitfulness of riches. A man may follow vanity as truly in the

counting-house as in the theatre. If he be spending his life in amassing

wealth, he passes his days in a vain show. Unless we follow Christ, and make

our God the great object of life, we only differ in appearance from the most

frivolous. It is clear that there is much need of the first prayer of our

text. “Quicken thou me in thy way.” The Psalmist confesses that he is dull,

heavy, lumpy, all but dead. Perhaps, dear reader, you feel the same. We are so

sluggish that the best motives cannot quicken us, apart from the Lord himself.

What! will not hell quicken me? Shall I think of sinners perishing, and yet

not be awakened? Will not heaven quicken me? Can I think of the reward that

awaiteth the righteous, and yet be cold? Will not death quicken me? Can I

think of dying, and standing before my God, and yet be slothful in my Master’s

service? Will not Christ’s love constrain me? Can I think of his dear wounds,

can I sit at the foot of his cross, and not be stirred with fervency and zeal?

It seems so! No mere consideration can quicken us to zeal, but God himself

must do it, hence the cry, “Quicken thou me.” The Psalmist breathes out his

whole soul in vehement pleadings: his body and his soul unite in prayer. “Turn

away mine eyes,” says the body: “Quicken thou me,” cries the soul. This is a

fit prayer for every day. O Lord, hear it in my case this night.