CHAPTER XIII: Upon the Dangers incident to corn from Seed-time to Harvest
As far as saints, in some things farther too; They speak like angels, and you'll think within,
The very spirit of Christ and grace hath been.
They come so near, that some, like Isaac, take Jacob for Esau, this for that mistake:
And boldly call (their eyes, with his, being dim) True grace, hypocrisy; and duty, sin:
Yea, many also, Jacob-like, embrace Leah for Rachel, common gifts for grace:
And in their bosom hug it, 'till the light Discover their mistake, and clear their sight:
And then, like him, confounded they will cry, Alas! 'tis Leah, curs'd hypocrisy!
Guide me, my God, that I may not, instead Of saving grace, nurse up this cursed weed.
O let my heart, at last, by thee be found Sincere, and all thy workings on it sound!
CHAPTER XIII
Upon the Dangers incident to corn from Seed-time to Harvest Fowls, weeds, and blastings do your corn annoy,
Even so corruptions would your grace destroy.
OBSERVATION
THERE are, amongst many others, three critical and dangerous periods between the seed-time and harvest. The first, when corn is newly committed to the earth, all that lies uncovered is quickly picked up by the birds; and much of that which is but slightly covered, is plucked up, as soon as it begins to sprout, by rooks, and other devouring fowls, Matth. 13:4. But if it escape the fowls, and gets root in the earth, yet then it is hazarded by noxious weeds, which purloin and suck away its nourishment, whilst it is yet in the tender blade. If by the care of the vigilant husbandman it be freed from choaking weeds; yet, lastly, as great a danger as any of the former still attends it; for oftentimes, whilst it is blowing in the ear, blastings and mildews smite it in the stalk, and cuts off the juice and sap that should ascend to nourish the ear, and so shrivels and dries up the grain whilst it is yet immaturate; whereby it becomes like those ears of corn in Pharaoh's vision, which were thin and blasted with the east-wind; or like the ears the Psalmist speaks of upon the house top, wherewith the reaper filleth not his arms.
APPLICATION
TRUE grace, from the infancy to the perfection thereof, conflicts with far greater dangers, amongst which it answerably meets with three dangerous periods which marvellously hazard it: So that it is a much greater wonder that it ever arrives at its just perfection. For, (1.) No sooner hath the great Husbandman disseminated these holy seeds in the regenerate heart, but multitudes of impetuous corruptions
immediately assault, and would certainly devour them, like the fowls of the air, did not the same arm that sowed them also protect them.
It fares with grace, as with Christ its Author, whom Herod sought to destroy, in his very infancy. The new creature is scarce warm in its seat, before it must fight to defend itself. This conflict is excellently set forth in that famous text, Gal. 5:17. "The flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary the one to the other, so that ye cannot do the things that ye would."
By flesh here understand the corruption of nature by original sin, and the sinful motions thereof;—by Spirit, not the soul, or natural spirit of man, but the Spirit of God in man, viz. those graces in man which are the workmanship of the Spirit, and therefore called by his name. The opposition betwixt these two is expressed by lusting, i.e. desiring the mutual ruin and destruction of each other; for even when they are not acting, yet then they are lusting; there is an opposite disposition against each other; which opposition is both a formal and an effective opposition. There are two contrary forms; two men in every saint, Col. 3:9, 10. From hence an effective opposisition must needs follow; for as things are in their natures and principles, so they are in their operations and effects; workings always follow beings; fire and water are of contrary qualities, and when they meet, they effectually oppose each other. Sin and grace are so opposite, that if sin should cease to oppose grace, it would cease to be sin; and if grace should cease to oppose sin, it would cease to be grace. And this doth much more endanger the work of grace than any other enemy it hath; because it works against it more inwardly, constantly, and advantageously, than any thing else can do. (1.) More inwardly, for it hath its being and working in the same soul where grace dwells; yea, in the self-same faculties; so that it not only sets one faculty against another, but the same faculty against itself; the understanding against the understanding, and the will against the
will; so that ye cannot do the good, nor yet the evil that ye would; not the good that ye would, because when the spirit moveth to good, and beats upon the heart by Divine pulsations, exciting it to duty, the flesh crosses and opposes it there; and if it cannot totally hinder the performance of a duty, yet it lames the soul upon the working-hand, whereby the performance is not so spiritual, free and composed, as it desires; nor yet the evil that you would commit, if grace were not there; because when lust stirs, in its first motions, grace puts a rub in its way. "How can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?"
Gen. 39:9. And if it cannot (which for the most part it doth) hinder the acting of sin, yet it so engages the will against it, that it is not committed with complacency and full consent, Rom. 7:15. "What I do, I allow not." (2.) It opposes it more constantly, it is like a continual dropping; a man can no more fly from this enemy, than from himself. There is a time when the devil leaves tempting, Mat.
4:11 but no time when corruption ceases from working. And, lastly, It opposes grace more advantageously than any other enemy can do, for it is not only always in the same soul with it, but it is there naturally; it hath the advantage of the soil which suits with it. And yet, oh the wonder of free grace! it is not swallowed up in victory, but it escapes this hazard.
But (2.) It soon meets with another, though it escapes this, even by temptations, which strike desperately at the very life of it; for these, like the weeds, with seemingly-loving embraces, clasp about it; and did not the faithful God now make a way to escape, instead of an harvest, we should have an heap? For, alas, what are we! to wrestle with principalities and powers, and spiritual wickednessess in high places?
Lastly, Sad relapses, like blasts and rustings, do often fade, and greatly endanger it, when it is even ready for the harvest. Thus it fell
out with David, whose last ways were not like his first; and yet by this these holy fruits were not utterly destroyed, because it is the seed of God, and so is immortal, 1 John 5:4, 5. And also because the promises of perseverance and victory made to it, cannot be frustrated; amongst which these are excellent, Isa. 54:10. Jer. 34:20.
1 Cor. 1:8. Psal. 1:3. 125:1. John 4:15. So that here is matter of unspeakable comfort; though the flesh say, Ego deficiam, I will fail thee; though the world say, Ego decipiam, I will deceive thee; though the devil say, Ego eripiam, I will snatch thee away; yet as long as Christ saith, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee, thy graces are secure in the midst of all these enemies.
REFLECTIONS
1. This soul of mine was once plowed up by conviction, and sown (as I thought) with the seed of God. In those days many purposes and good resolutions began to chink and bud forth, promising a blessed harvest: but oh! (with what consternation and horror should I speak it) the cares and pleasures of this life, the lusts and corruptions of my base heart springing up, have quite destroyed and choaked it; by which it appears it was not the seed of God, as I then imagined it to be; and now my expected harvest shall be an heap in the day of grief and desperate sorrow, Isa. 17:11. I had convictions, but they are gone; troubles for sin, conscience of duties, but all is blasted, and my soul is now as a barren field, which God hath cursed.
Woe is me! I have revolted from God, and now that dreadful word, Jer. 17:5, 6 is evidently fulfilled upon me; "for I am like the heath in the desart, that seeth not when good cometh; my soul inhabits the parched places of the wilderness." Alas! all my formal and heartless duties were but as so many scare-crows in the field, which could not defend these slight workings from being devoured by the infernal
fowls. Had these principles been the seed of God, no doubt they would have continued and overcome the world, 1 John 2:19.
Wretched soul! thy case is sad; it will be better with the uncultivated wilderness, than with such a miscarrying soul, unless the great
Husbandman plow thee up the second time, and sow thy heart with better seed.
2. And are the corruptions of my heart to grace, what fowls, weeds, and mildews are to the corn? O what need have I then to watch my heart, and keep it with all diligence; for in the life of that grace is wrapt up the life of my soul. He that carries a candle in his hand, in a blustering stormy night, had need to cover it close, lest it be blown out, and he left in darkness. O let me never say, God hath promised it shall persevere, and therefore I need not be so solicitous to preserve it, for as this inference is quite opposite to the nature of true grace and assurance, which never encourage to carelessness, but provoke the soul to an industrious use of means to preserve it; so it is in itself an irrational and senseless conclusion, which will never follow from any scripture-promise; for although it is readily granted, that God hath made many comfortable and sweet promises to the grace of his people, yet we must expect to enjoy the benefits and blessings of all those promises, in that way and order in which God hath promised them; and that is in the careful and diligent use of those means which he hath prescribed, Ezek. 36:36, 37. For promises do not exclude, but imply the use of means, Acts 27:31. I know my life is determined to a day, to an hour, and I shall live out every minute
God hath appointed; but yet, I am bound to provide food, raiment, and physic to preserve it.
To conclude, let all doubting Christians reflect seriously upon this truth, and suck marrow and fatness out of it to strengthen and establish them against all their fears: your life, your spiritual life hath
for many years hung in supense before you; and you have often said with David, I shall one day fall by the hand of Saul. Desponding, trembling soul! lift up thine eyes, and look upon the fields; the corn lives still, and grows up, though birds have watched to devour it; snows have covered it, beasts have cropped it, weeds have almost choaked it, yet it is preserved. And hath not God more care of that precious seed of his own Spirit in thee, than any husbandman hath of his corn? Hath he not said, "That having begun the good work in thee, he will perfect it to the day of Christ?" Phil. 1:6. Hath he not said, I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish, John
10:28. Hast thou not many times said, and thought of it, as thou dost now, and yet it lives? O what matter of unspeakable joy and comfort is this to upright souls! Well then, be not discouraged, for thou dost not run as one uncertain, nor fight as one that beats the air, 1 Cor.
9:26. But the foundation of God stands sure, having this seal, the Lord knows who are his, 2 Tim. 2:19. Though thy grace be weak, thy
God is strong: though the stream seem sometimes to fail, yet it is fed by an ever-flowing fountain.
THE POEM 'TIS justly wondered that an ear of corn Should come at last in safety to the barn:
It runs through many hazards, threat'ning harms, Betwixt the sower's hands and reaper's arms.
The earth no sooner takes it from the sack, But you may see behind the sower's back A troop of thieves which would at once destroy
That seed in which lies hid the seed of joy.
This dangerous period past, it soon doth fall Into a second, no less critical.
It shooteth forth the tender blade, and then The noxious weeds endanger it again.
These clasp about it till they kindly choak The corn, as flattering ivy doth the oak.
Are weeds destroy'd and all that danger past?
Lo, now another comes, the worst at last:
For when i' th' ear it blows, begins to kern, A mildew smites it, which you can't discern,
Nor any way prevent till all be lost, The corn destroy'd with all your hopes and cost.
Thus saving grace, that precious seed of joy, Which hell and nature plot how to destroy,
Escapes ten thousand dangers, first and last, O who can say, now all the danger's past?
'Tis like a crazy bark toss'd in a storm,
Or like a taper which is strangely born Without a lanthorn in a blust'ring night,
Or like to glimmering sparks, whose dying light Is still preserv'd: the roaring waves swell high,
Like moving mountains in the dark'ned sky:
On their proud backs the little bark is even Mounted unto the battlements of heaven; From thence dismounted, to the deeps doth slide
Receiving water upon every side; Yet he whose voice the proudest waves obey, Brings it at last unto the quiet quay; The blust'ring winds strive with a fatal puff,
To bring the taper to a stinking snuff:
Their churlish blasts extinguish it, and then Our gentle breath recovers it again:
The fainting sparks beneath the ashes lie, Where, choak'd and smother'd, they begin to die:
But these collected, we do gently blow,