Chapter 13: In What Respects Corruption Is a Burden
of grace is that the burden of your corruption makes you willing to die.
The Eighth Property of the Burden of Corruption Eighthly, sin is a grievous burden that makes us weary of life, and yet it is a burden we must carry with us as long as we live. We know that we shall never be completely freed from it in this life. It is true that we may be freed from it to a great extent—Christ says, "Come to me and you shall have rest," meaning some rest for the present and complete rest in the life to come. But we cannot be wholly freed from this burden while we are in this world.
Thus we conclude our examination of the properties of this burden, and of how God's people feel the weight of their corruptions.
Chapter 13 In What Respects Corruption Is a Burden:
1. In that our Nature is opposite to the very Nature of God.
2. It presses down every holy duty.
3. It provides matter for any temptation.
4. It has a root from which all kinds of sin may spring.
5. It dampens all the activity of our graces.
The third point is to show that corruption is a burden to the godly.
First, the corrupt nature that is within them—aside from the act of sin—must indeed be a burden to the godly. To think, "I have a nature contrary to God" is a grievous thought. It is not just occasional acts of sin against God that weigh upon them, but the knowledge of this:
"Oh, wretched man or woman that I am, I have a nature within me that is opposed to the very nature of God, opposed to the infinite holiness of God himself." Though God has made me a partaker of the divine nature, I still retain this opposition within me to the very nature of God.
II.
Secondly, this corruption is a heavy weight that presses them down in every holy duty. As it is written in Hebrews 12:1: "Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us." Here, the apostle is speaking of original sin, the sin of our nature, which is particularly a weight. It weighs down our hearts as we seek to perform holy duties, striving to lift our hearts up to God.
Yet this corrupt nature within us keeps pulling us down.
I recall a story of a godly man who, while walking, saw a bird fluttering upward. But whenever it rose, it fell back down again. The man observed closely and saw that a stone was tied to the bird's leg.
Upon seeing this, the good man began to weep. "Just so," he said, "it is with me. I long to rise up to God, to have communion with Him.
Sometimes I begin to ascend, but immediately I am pulled down by this weight within me." Do you not experience this too? You who
commune with God, who withdraw at times to seek Him in private duty, and who long to have your hearts lifted up to God, only to find them brought low again by the weight of your corrupt nature? It happens not only in private devotions but even after public duties, such as a day of fasting and humiliation. In the evening, your heart may be uplifted, and you resolve to live above the world and its distractions, seeking more to glorify God. But soon, this corrupt nature brings you down again.
III.
Thirdly, corrupt nature is a burden because it provides matter for any temptation in the world. There is no temptation to any kind of sin for which our nature does not provide the fuel. What a burden this is! Imagine a ship on fire among other ships, and within the ship is a great store of gunpowder. Would not the ship's owner be filled with fear? Would he not work tirelessly, doing all in his power to prevent the fire from reaching the gunpowder? I compare the temptations that surround us to fire. We are surrounded by these temptations, and what lies within our hearts? There is fuel for these temptations—just as the gunpowder is fuel for the fire, so our sinful hearts are ready to ignite at the touch of every temptation. Is this not a great burden? That I should carry within my heart matter ready to kindle any sin in the world—even the sin of blasphemy against the Holy Ghost—were it not for the mighty restraining power of God!
Such is the nature of sinful man.
IV.
Fourthly, the sinfulness of our nature is a burden in this respect: not only does it provide matter to entertain temptation, but it also has
within it a root from which (if God does not come in with His grace) all kinds of sin may spring up, even if there were no temptation.
Many of us cry out about the devil and temptation when we are overcome by sin, but consider this: there is not only the evil within your heart that makes you ready to entertain all temptations, but also that which could breed all kinds of evils, even if there were no temptation—indeed, even if there were no devil in hell.
Consider this: just as there are seeds of weeds in the ground, which, though they do not immediately flourish, will still sprout in time if not uprooted—so it is with the heart. There is not only the devil's temptation to contend with, but also the rising corruption within us.
It is one thing to have something filthy cast upon us and another to have a body so rotten that the stench comes from within. One may become unsavoury by something cast upon him, but how much worse if the unsavoury odour arises from his own rotting body.
Similarly, the devil may cast temptation upon us, disturbing our hearts, but there is already something in our hearts that disturbs us even more. The sin in our hearts can cause as much havoc as any temptation the devil brings.
Lastly, the sinfulness of our nature is a burden because it dampens all the activity of our graces. The saints of God find joy in being active and stirring for God, but this corruption within us dampens everything. Imagine a candle in a coal mine. Though the candle burns, the damp air of the mine causes it to burn dimly. Similarly, the graces of God's Spirit in us are like that candle, and our hearts are like the coal mine. Christ ensures that the dampness of our corruption does not completely extinguish the candle, but it still
dims the flame, reducing the beauty, liveliness, and activity of our graces. Though we may have some life and burning zeal, we burn but dimly before others.
I am not speaking now of the outward acts of sin, but of the inner corruption—the war within our hearts between the flesh and the Spirit, as Scripture tells us. There is a constant battle between the two, and this continual fight against all that is good is a heavy burden. We lament wars and rumours of wars within our gates, but the war within our hearts is far greater.
It is a troubling thing that in our own hearts there are corruptions waging war, not just to enslave us to sin, but to bring our souls to mischief, to make us slaves to the devil. This battle rages in all our hearts, though some may not feel its weight. Why do some not feel this burden of corruption? One reason is that they are spiritually dead. If a whole building were to fall on a dead man, he would not feel it. Likewise, if you do not feel the burden of your corruption, it is an infallible sign that you are dead in your sins and trespasses. I dare declare, in the name of God, that if you do not feel the burden of the sin within your soul, you are spiritually dead.
In nature, a person may lose the sense of sight, smell, or hearing and yet live, but losing the sense of touch signifies death. So it is spiritually: though a person may have weaknesses, if they do not feel the burden of their corruptions at all, they are dead.
To those of you who are weary and heavy-laden, Christ says, "Come to me, and I will give you rest." Know that Christ speaks to you, not only out of pity (as He does to those burdened with legal performances) but out of love. And know that by feeling this burden, you are being prepared for Christ. It delights His heart to give ease and rest to His servants who labour under the burden of corruption.