Barren-fig-tree, thou art not licensed by thy profession, nor by the
Lord of the vineyard, to bear these clusters of Gomorrah; neither
shall the vineyard, nor thy being crowded among the trees there,
shelter thee from the sight of the eye of God. Many make religion
their cloak and Christ their stalking-horse, and by that means cover
themselves and hide their own wickedness from men: but God seeth
their hearts, hath his print upon the heels of their feet, and
pondereth all their goings; and at last, when their iniquity is
found to be hateful, he will either smite them with hardness of
heart and so leave them, or awaken them to bring forth fruit. Fruit
he looks for, seeks, and expects, O thou barren fig-tree.
But what, come into the presence of God to sin What, come into the
presence of God to hide thy sin! Alas, man, the church is God's
garden, and Christ Jesus is the great Apostle and High-priest of our
profession. What, come into the house that is called by his name,
into the place where his honor dwelleth, where his eyes and heart
are continually--what, come there to sin, to hide thy sin, to cloak
thy sin! His plants are an orchard with pleasant fruits; and every
time he goeth into his garden, it is "to see the fruits of the
valley," and to see if the vines flourish and if the pomegranates
bud.
Yea, he came seeking fruit on this fig-tree. The church is the place
of God's delight, where he ever desires to be; there he is night and
day. He is there to seek for fruit, to seek for fruit of all and
every tree in the garden. Wherefore assure thyself, O fruitless one,
that thy ways must needs be open before the eyes of the Lord. One
black sheep is soon espied, although in company with many; it is
taken with the first cast of the eye; its different color still
betrays it. I say, therefore, a church and a profession are not
places where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves from God,
that seeks for fruit: "My vineyard," saith God, "which is mine, is
before me." Song 8:12; Psa. 26:8; 1 Kings, 9:3; Song 4:13-15.
Barren soul, how many showers of grace, how many dews from heaven,
hast thou enjoyed! How many times have the silver streams of the
city of God run gliding by thy roots, to cause thee to bring forth
fruit! These showers and streams, and the drops that hang upon thy
boughs, will all be accounted for; and will they not testify against
thee, that thou oughtest of right to be burned? Hear and tremble, O
thou barren professor!
When a man seeks for fruit on a tree, he goes round it and round it,
now looking into this bough and then into that; he peeps into the
inmost boughs and the lowermost boughs, if perhaps fruit may be
thereon. Barren fig-tree, God will look into all thy boughs.
There is a man that hath a hundred trees in his vine yard, and at
the time of the season he walketh into his vineyard to see how the
trees flourish; and as he goes and views and pries and observes how
they are hung with fruit, behold, he cometh to one where he findeth
naught but leaves. Now he makes a stand, looks upon it again and
again; he looks also here and there, above and below; and if, after
all this seeking, he finds nothing but leaves thereon, then he
begins to cast in his mind how he may know this tree next year, what
stands next it, or how far it is off the hedge; but if there be
nothing there that may be as a mark to know it by, then he takes his
hook and giveth it a private mark, saying, Go thy way, fruitless
fig-tree, thou hast spent this season in vain.
Yet doth he not cut it down--"I will try it another year; may be
this was not a hitting season." Therefore he comes again next year
to see if now it have fruit; but as he found it before, so he finds
it now, barren, barren, every year barren; he looks again, but finds
no fruit. Now he begins to have second thoughts. How, neither hit
last year nor this! Surely the barrenness is not in the season, sure
the fault is in the tree; however, I will spare it this year also,
but will give it a second mark; and, it may be, he toucheth it with
a hot iron, because he begins to be angry.
Well, at the third season he comes again for fruit, but the third
year is like the first and second, no fruit yet; it only cumbereth
the ground. What now must be done with this fig-tree? Why, the Lord
will lop its boughs with terror; yea, the thickets of those
professors with iron. I have waited, saith God, these three years; I
have missed of fruit these three years; it hath been a cumber-ground
these three years; cut it down. Precept hath been upon precept, and
line upon line, one year after another, for these three years, hut
no fruit can be seen; I find none: fetch out the axe.
"Lord, let it alone this year also." Here is astonishing grace
indeed; astonishing grace, that the Lord Jesus should concern
himself with a barren fig-tree; that he should step in to stop the
blow from a barren fig-tree! True, he stopped the blow but for a
time; but why did he stop it at all? Why did he not fetch out the
axe? Why did he not do execution? Why did he not cut it down?
Barren fig-tree, it is well for thee that there is a Jesus at God's
right hand, a Jesus of that largeness of pity to have compassion for
a barren fig-tree; else justice had never let thee alone to cumber
the ground, as thou hast done.
See the care, the love, the labor, and way which the Lord Jesus, the
dresser of the vineyard, is fain to take with thee, if haply thou
mayest be made fruitful.
"Lord, let it alone this year." Lord, a little longer; let us not
lose a soul for want of means. I will try, I will see if I can make
it fruitful; I will not beg a long life, nor that it might still be
barren, and so provoke thee. I beg for the sake of the soul, the
immortal soul; Lord, spare it one year only, one year longer, this
year also; if I do any good to it, it will be in little time. Thou
shalt not be overwearied with waiting; one year and then--
Barren fig-tree, dost thou hear what a striving there is between the
vinedresser and the husbandman for thy life?
"Cut it down," says one; "Lord, spare it," says the other. "It is a
cumber-ground," saith the Father; "One year longer," prays the Son:
"let it alone this year also."
"Till I shall dig about it and dung it." I doubt if it is not too
much ground-bound. "The love of this world and the deceitfulness of
riches" lie too close to the roots of the heart of this professor.
The love of riches, the love of honors, the love of pleasures, are
the thorns that choke the word; how then can there be fruit brought
forth to God?
Barren fig-tree, see how the Lord Jesus by these words suggests the
cause of thy fruitlessness of soul. The things of this world lie too
close to thy heart; the earth and its things have bound up thy
roots; thou art an earth-bound soul, thou art wrapped up in thick
clay. "If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in
him;" how then can he be fruitful in the vineyard?
This kept Judas from the fruit of caring for the poor. This kept
Demas from the fruit of self-denial. And this kept Ananias and
Sapphira his wife from the goodly fruit of sincerity and truth. I
John, 2:15, 16; John 12: 6; 2 Tim. 4:10; Acts 5: 5-10; I Tim. 6: 9,
10.
"And if it bear fruit, well." And if the outlay of all my labor doth
make this fig-tree fruitful, I shall count my time, my labor, and
means, well bestowed upon it; and thou also, O my God, shalt be
therewith much delighted; for thou art gracious and merciful, and
repentest thee of the evil which thou threatenest to bring upon a
people.
These words therefore inform us, that if a barren figtree, a barren
professor, shall now at last bring forth fruit to God, it shall go
well with that professor, it shall go well with that poor soul. His
former barrenness, his former tempting of God, his abuse of God's
patience and long-suffering, his misspending year after year, shall
now be all forgiven him. Yea, God the Father and our Lord Jesus
Christ will now pass by and forget all, and say, "Well done," at the
last.
"And if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down." There is
nothing more exasperating to the mind of a man, than to find all his
kindness and favor slighted; neither is the Lord Jesus so provoked
with any thing, as when sinners abuse his means of grace. If it be
barren and fruitless under my gospel, if it turn my grace into
wantonness, if, after digging and dunging and waiting, it yet remain
unfruitful, I will let thee cut it down.
Gospel-means applied are the last remedy for a barren professor; if
the gospel, if the grace of the gospel will not do, there can be
nothing expected but, "Cut it down."
"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets and stonest
them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy
children together, as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings,
and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate."
Matt. 23:37,38.
Yet it cannot be but that this Lord Jesus, who at first did put a
stop to the execution of his Father's justice, because he desired to
try more means with the fig-tree--it cannot be but that a heart so
full of compassion as his, should be touched to behold this
professor must now be cut down. "And when he was come near, he
beheld the city and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even
thou, at least in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace!
but now they are hid from thine eyes."
When Christ giveth thee over, there is no intercessor, no mediator,
no more sacrifice for sin; all is gone but judgment, but the axe,
but "a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery
indignation, which shall devour the adversaries." Heb. 10:26-28.
The day of grace ends with some men before God takes them out of
this world. Now, then, I would show you by some signs how you may
know that the day of grace is ended, or near to ending with the
barren professor.
First sign. The day of grace is like to be past, when a professor
hath WITHSTOOD, ABUSED, AND WORN OUT GOD'S PATIENCE: then he is in
danger; this is a provocation; now God cries, "Cut it down."
There are some men that steal into a profession, nobody knows how,
even as this fig-tree was brought into the vineyard by other hands
than God's; and there they abide lifeless, graceless, careless, and
without any good conscience to God at all. Perhaps they came in for
the loaves, for a trade, for credit, for a blind; or it may be, to
stifle and choke the checks and grinding pangs of an awakened and
disquieted conscience. Now, having obtained their purpose, like the
sinners of Zion, they are at ease and secure, saying, like Agag,
Surely the bitterness of death is past: I am well; I shall be saved
and go to heaven. Thus in these vain conceits they spend a year,
two, or three; not remembering that at every season of grace, and at
every opportunity of the gospel, the Lord comes seeking fruit.
Well, sinner, well, barren fig-tree, this is but an evil beginning.
God comes for fruit. What have I here? saith God. What a fig-tree is
this, that hath stood this year in my vineyard, and brought me forth
no fruit! I will cry unto him, Professor, barren fig-tree, be
fruitful; I look for fruit, I expect fruit, I must have fruit;
therefore bethink thyself. At these the professor pauses; but these
are words, not blows; therefore off goes this consideration from the
heart.
When God comes the next year, he finds him still as he was, a
barren, fruitless cumber-ground. And now again he complains, Here
are two years gone, and no fruit appears; well, I will defer mine
anger for my name's sake. I will yet wait to be gracious. But this
helps not, this hath not the least influence upon the barren
fig-tree: Tush, saith he, here is no threatening; God is merciful,
he will defer his anger, he waits to be gracious; I am not yet
afraid. O, how ungodly men, that are unawares crept into the
vineyard, how do they turn the grace of our God into lasciviousness!
Well, he comes the third year for fruit, as he did before, but still
he finds but a barren fig-tree; no fruit. Now he cries out again, O
thou dresser of my vineyard, come hither: here is a fig-tree hath
stood these three years in my vineyard, and hath at every season
disappointed my expectation; for I have looked for fruit in vain.
Cut it down; my patience is worn out, I shall wait on this fig-tree
no longer.
And now he begins to shake the fig-tree with his threatenings: Fetch
out the axe. Now the axe is death; death therefore is called for.
Death, come, smite me this fig-tree. And withal the Lord shakes this
sinner, and whirls him upon a sick-bed, saying, Take him, death; he
hath abused my patience and forbearance, not remembering that it
should have led him to repentance and to the fruits thereof: death,
fetch away this fig-tree to the fire, fetch this barren professor to
hell. At this, death comes with grim looks into the chamber, yea,
and hell follows with him to the bedside, and both stare this
professor in the face, yea, begin to lay hands upon him. One smites
him with pains in his body, with headache, heartache, backache,
shortness of breath, fainting qualms, trembling of joints, stopping
at the chest, and almost all the symptoms of a man past all
recovery. Now, while death is thus tormenting the body, hell is busy
with the mind and conscience, striking them with its pains, casting
sparks of fire in thither, wounding with sorrows and fears of
everlasting damnation the spirit of this poor creature. And now he
begins to bethink himself, and to cry to God for mercy: Lord, spare
me; Lord, spare me. Nay, saith God, you have been a provocation to
me these three years. How many times have you disappointed me! How
many seasons have you spent in vain! How many sermons and other
mercies did I of my patience afiord you; but to no purpose at all.
Take him, death. O good Lord, saith the sinner, spare me but this
once; raise me but this once.
Indeed I have been a barren professor, and have stood to no purpose
at all in thy vineyard; hut spare, O spare me this one time, I
beseech thee, and I will he better. Away, away, you will not; I have
tried you these three years already; you are naught: if I should
recover you again, you would he as bad as you were before. (And all
this talk is while death stands by.) The sinner cries again, Good
Lord, try me this once; let me get up again this once, and see if I
do not rnend. But will you promise me to mend? Yes indeed, Lord, and
vow it too. I will never be so bad again, I will he better. Well,
saith God, Death, let this professor alone for this time: I will try
him a little longer; he hath promised, he hath vowed, that he will
amend his ways. It may be he will mind to keep his promises. Vows
are solemn things; it may he he may fear to break his vows. Arise
from off thy bed. And now God lays down his axe. At this the poor
creature is very thankful, praises God, and fawns upon him, shows as
if he did it heartily, and calls to others to thank him too. He
therefore riseth, as one would think, to be a new creature indeed.
But by that he hath put on his clothes, is come down from his bed,
and ventured into the yard or shop, and there sees how all things
are gone to sixes and sevens, he begins to have second thoughts, and
says to his folks, What have you all been doing? How are all things
out of order! I am I cannot tell how much behindhand; one may see if
a man be but a little laid aside, that you have neither wisdom nor
prudence to order things. And now, instead of seeking to spend the
rest of his time for God, he doubleth his diligence after this
world. Alas, he saith, all must not be lost; we must have provident
care. And thus, quite forgetting the sorrows of death, the pains of
hell, the promises and vows which he made to God to be better,
because judgment was not speedily executed, therefore the heart of
this poor creature is fully set in him to do evil.
These things proving ineffectual, God takes hold of his axe again,
sends death to a wife, to a child, to his cattle. I will blast him,
cross him, disappoint him, cast him down; and will set myself
against him in all that he putteth his hand unto. At this the poor
barren professor cries out again, Lord, I have sinned; spare me once
more, I beseech thee. O take not away the desire of mine eyes; spare
my children, bless me in my labors, and I will mend and be better.
No, saith God, you lied to me last time, I will trust you in this no
longer; and withal he tumbleth the wife, the child, the estate, into
a grave.
At this the poor creature is afflicted and distressed, rends his
clothes, and begins to call the breaking of his promise and vows to
mind; he mourns and prays, and like Ahab, a while walks softly at
the remembrance of the justness of the hand of God upon him. And now
he renews his promises: Lord, try me this one time more, take off
thy hand and see; they go far that never turn. Well, God spareth him
again, sets down his axe again: "Many times he did deliver them, but
they provoked him with their counsels, and were brought low for
their iniquities." Now they seem to be thankful again, and are as if
they resolved to be godly indeed. Now they read, they pray, they go
to meetings, and seem to be serious for a while; but at last they
forget. Their lusts prick them, suitable temptations present
themselves; wherefore, they return to their own crooked ways again.
Yet again, the Lord will not leave this barren professor, Luke 13:
6-9, but will take up his axe again, and will put him under a more
heart-searching ministry, a ministry that shall search him and turn
him over and over--a ministry that shall meet with him, as Elijah
met with Ahab, in all his acts of wickedness: and now the axe is
laid to the roots of the tree. Besides, this ministry doth not only
search the heart, but presenteth the sinner with the golden rays of
the glorious gospel: now is Christ Jesus set forth evidently, now is
grace displayed sweetly; now, now are the promises broken, like
boxes of ointment, to the perfuming of the whole room. But alas,
there is yet no fruit on this fig-tree. While his heart is searched,
he wrangles; while the glorious grace of the gospel is unveiled,
this professor wags and is wanton, gathers up some scraps thereof,
tastes the good word of God and the power of the world to come,
drinketh in the rain that cometh oft upon him, but bringeth not
forth fruit meet for him whose gospel it is; takes no heed to walk
in the law of the Lord God of Israel with all his heart, but
counteth that the glory of the gospel consisteth in talk and show,
and that our obedience thereto is a matter of speculation--that good
works lie in good words, and if men can finely talk, they may think
they bravely please God. He thinks the kingdom of God consisteth
only in word, not in power; and thus proves ineffectual this fourth
means also.
Well, now the axe begins to be heaved higher, for now indeed God is
ready to smite the sinner: yet before he will strike the stroke, he
will try one way more at last; and if that misseth, down goes the
fig-tree.
Now this last way is to labor and strive with this professor by his
Spirit. Therefore the Spirit of the Lord is now come to him; but not
always to strive with man, Gen. 6:8; yet awhile he will strive with
him, he will awaken, he will convince, he will call to remembrance
former sins, former judgments, the breach of former vows and
promises, the misspending of former days. He will also present
persuasive arguments, encouraging promises, dreadful judgments, the
shortness of time to repent in; and that there is hope if he come.
He will show him the certainty of death and of the judgment to come,
yea, he will pull and strive with this sinner. But behold, the
mischief now lies here; here is laboring and striving on both sides.
The Spirit convinces, the man turns a deaf ear to God; the Spirit
saith, Receive my instruction and live, but the man pulls away his
shoulder; the Spirit shows him whither he is going, but the man
closeth his eyes against it; the Spirit offers violence, the man
strives and resists: he has "done despite unto the Spirit of grace."
Heb. 10:29. The Spirit parleyeth a'second time and urgeth reasons of
a new nature, but the sinner answereth, No; I have loved strangers,
and after them will I go. Amos 4: 6-12. At this, God comes out of
his holy-place, and is terrible; now he sweareth in his wrath they
shall never enter into his rest. Ezek. 34:13. I exercised towards
you my patience, yet you have not turned unto me, saith the Lord. I
smote you in your person, in your relations, in your estate, yet you
have not returned unto me, saith the Lord. "Cut it down; why
cumbereth it the ground?"
The second sign that such a professor is almost, if not quite past
grace, is when God hath GIVEN HIM OVER, or lets him alone and
suffers him to do any thing, and that without control; helpeth him
not either in works of holiness, or in straits and difficulties:
"Ephraim is joined to idols; let him alone." "Woe be to them when I
depart from them." "I will laugh at their calamity; I will mock when
their fear cometh."
Barren fig-tree, thou hast heretofore been digged about; God's
mattock has heretofore been at thy roots; thou hast heretofore been
striven with, convinced, awakened, made to taste and see, and cry, O
the blessedness! Thou hast heretofore been met with under the word;
thy heart has melted, thy spirit has fallen, thy soul has trembled,
and thou hast felt something of the power of the gospel. But thou
hast sinned, thou hast provoked the eyes of his glory, thy iniquity
is found to be hateful; and now perhaps God has left thee, given
thee up, and lets thee alone.
Heretofore thou wast tender; thy conscience startled at the
temptation to wickedness, for thou wert taken off from the
pollutions of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ, 2 Pet. 2: 20-22; but that very vomit that once
thou wert turned from, now thou lappest up again,
Seest thou a man that heretofore had the knowledge of God, and that
had some awe of majesty upon him; seest thou such a one sporting
himself in his own deceivings, Rom. 1:30, 31, "turning the grace of
God into lasciviousness, and walking after his own ungodly lusts?
His judgment now of a long time lingereth not, and his damnation
slumbereth not." 2 Pet. 2:13.
Dost thou hear, barren professor? It is astonishing to see how those
who once seemed sons of the morning, and were making preparations
for eternal life, now at last, for the rottenness of their hearts,
by the just judgment of God are permitted, being past feeling, "to
give themselves over unto lasciviousness, to work all uncleanness
with greediness." Eph. 4:18, 19. A great number of such were in the
first gospel days; against whom Peter and Jude and John pronounce
the just judgment of God. 2 Pet. 2:3-8; Jude 5-8. Barren fig-tree,
dost thou hear? These are beyond all mercy; these are beyond all
promises; these are beyond all hopes of repentance; these have no
intercessor, nor any more share in the one sacrifice for sin. For
these there remains nothing but a fearful looking for of judgment.
These men go whither they will, do what they will; they may range
from opinion to opinion, from notion to notion, from sect to sect,
but are steadfast nowhere: they are left to their own uncertainties;
they have not grace to establish their hearts; and though some of
them have boasted themselves of this liberty, yet Jude calls them
wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for
ever. They are left to be fugitives and vagabonds in the earth, to
wander everywhere but to abide nowhere, until they shall descend to
their own place, with Cain and Judas, men of the same fate with
themselves.
Look thou certainly, fruitless professor, for an eternal
disappointment in the day of God; for it must be; thy lamp will he
out at the first sound the trump of God shall make in thine ears;
thou canst not hold up at the appearance of the Son of God in his
glory; his very looks will he to thy profession as a strong wind is
to a blinking candle, and thou shalt he left only to smoke.
Oh, the alteration that will befall a foolish virgin. She thought
she was happy, and that she should have received happiness with
those that were right at the heart; but behold the contrary: her
lamp is going out, she has now to seek for saving grace, when the
time of grace is over; her heaven she thought of has proved a hell,
and her god has proved a devil. God hath cast her out of his
presence, and closes the door upon her. She pleads her profession
and the like, and she hath for her answer repulses from heaven. "So
are the paths of all that forget God; and the hypocrite's hope shall
perish; whose hope shall be cut off, and whose trust shall be the
spider's web: though he lean upon his house, it shall not stand; he
shall hold it fast, but it shall not endure."
Take heed, therefore; thy soul, heaven, and eternity lie at stake;
yea, they turn either to thee or from thee upon the hinge of thy
faith, If it be right, all is thine; if wrong, then all is lost,
however thy hope and expectations are to the contrary.
There are bare notions, there are common workings, and there is a
work that is saving and that will do the soul good to eternity.
1. There are bare notions, and they that have them are such unto
whom the gospel comes in word only, 1 Thess. 1:5; 1 Cor. 4:19, 20;
such whose religion stands in word only, and is not attended with a
power suitable: that is, there goes not with the word a power
sufficient to subdue and work over the heart to a cordial and
gracious close with thut word that comes to them. Yet such is the
noise and sound of the word, that they are willing to become
professors thereof; there is some kind of musicalness in it,
especially when well handled and fingered by a skilful preacher.
"And lo," saith God unto such preachers, when their auditory is made
up of such kind of hearers, "lo, thou art unto them as a very lovely
song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an
instrument; for they hear thy words, but they do them not."
2. But then, besides these there is another sort, and they go
further than these. For to them the word came, not in word only but
also in power: though not in such a power as is sufficient,
absolutely against all attempts whatsoever, to bring the soul to
glory.
(1.) They attain light or illumination to see much of their state by
nature. Heb. 6:4.
(2.) This light stands not in bare speculation, but lets fall upon
the conscience convincing arguments to the bowing and humbling of
the spirit. 1 Kings, 21: 27-29.
(3.) They submit to these convictions and reforms, and may for a
time not only come out from them that live in error, but escape the
pollutions of the world by the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ. 2 Peter, 2:18-20; Gal. 3:4; 4:20.
(4.) Yea, so powerful will this dispensation be, that it will
prevail with them to do and suffer many things for the vindication
of the truth of that gospel which they profess. For the word will be
sweet unto them; Christ, the gift of God, will be relished by them.
Heb. 6:4, 5. The powers of the world to come will be in them; some
workings of the Holy Ghost will be in them; and joy, which is as oil
to the wheels, will be with their souls. Luke 8:13.
Thus is it with some professors, who yet cannot be said to depart
from iniquity, because the things that now are upon them abide with
them but awhile: "For awhile they believe; they rejoice in the light
for a season," and after that return to their old course, and are
again entangled with their iniquities and overcome.
Now the causes of this declension, or falling away again unto
iniquity, are many.
One is, that this work, this work of power which they have been made
partakers of, has not been thorough enough upon all the powers of
their souls. Their understandings, their judgments and consciences
have been dealt with, but the power of God has not been upon their
wills and minds and affections rightly to subdue them to the grace
of the gospel.
Therefore also such persons, upon the withdrawing of those
influences that at present are mighty upon them, do forthwith forget
both what they had and what work it made upon them. Straightway they
forget what manner of men they were. It is said of Israel, "They
sang his praises; they soon forgat his word." So these; they forget.
They forget what light and what convictions they had. They forget
what sorrow for sin they had. They forget what tastes of Christ and
his word they had.
They forget what joy and comfort they had. They forget how fair for
heaven they were. And they forget how cleansed once they were. "They
have forgotten that they were purged from their old sins." 2 Pet.
1:9.
Now, forgetfulness makes things that are past as nothings; and if
so, then it can lay no obligations upon the mind to engage it to
delight in them; no, not in thoughts of them, as if they were
remembered by us.
Forgetfulness is a very dangerous thing; it makes preaching vain,
profession vain, faith vain, and all to no purpose. 1 Cor. 15:1, 2.
Such profession is but a dream; and such professors but as dreamers;
all vanishes in the morning. This made Paul so caution the
Corinthians that they should forget not the preaching; arid the
writer to the Hebrews so earnestly call them, in their backsliding,
back to the remembrance of former days, and to the recollecting what
it was that then made them so willingly endure their great fight of
affliction.
Forgetfulness, I say, makes things nothings; it makes us as if
things had never been; and so takes away from the soul one great
means of stay, support, and encouragement. When choice David was
dejected, the remembrance of the hill Hermon was his stay; when he
was to go out against Goliath, the remembrance of the lion and the
bear was his support; so when those that have had the power of the
things of God upon them, can think of this when they are withdrawn,
it will, even the thinking of it, have some kind of operation upon
the soul. And therefore you shall find, that the recovering of a
backslider usually begins at the remembrance of former things.
"Remember from whence thou art fallen, and repent and do thy first
works."
It is marvellous to see how some men are captivated with this
forgetfulness. Those that sometimes have prayed, cried, groaned, and
sighed for eternal life; those that sometimes thought no pains too
much, no way too far, no hazards too great to run, for eternal life;
those that sometimes were captivated with the word, and with the
comforts and joy thereof, and who, had it been possible, would have
pulled out their eyes, and have given them to gospel ministers, so
dear and sweet were the good tidings which they brought. to such. I
say, it is marvellous to see how such men are captivated with the
forgetfulness of this. They are as if they had never been those men;
they are as if they had had no such things, or as if they never had
thought about them. Yea, they are strange, and carry it strangely to
all those that still are under the power of that word, and of that
mighty hand by which sometimes themselves were guided.
Should one say to them, Art not thou the man that I once saw crying
under a sermon, that I once heard cry out, "What must I do to be
saved?" and that some time ago I heard speak well of the holy word
of God? how askew will they look upon one; or if they will
acknowledge that such things were with them once, they do it more
like images and rejected ghosts, than men. They look as if they were
blasted, withered, cast out and dried to powder, and now fit for
nothing but to be cast into the fire and burned. John 15.