Chapter 13
Fowls, weeds, and blastings do your corn annoy,
Even so corruptions would your grace destroy.
OBSERVATION.
There are (among 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 stocked up as soon as it begins to sprout, by rooks and other devouring fowls (Matthew 13:4). But if it escape the fowls, and gets root in the earth, yet then is it hazarded by noxious weeds, which purloin and suck away its nourishment, while it is yet in the tender blade. If by the care of the vigilant husbandman it be freed from choking weeds; yet lastly, as great a danger as any of the former still attends it; for oftentimes, while it is blowing in the ear, blastings, and mildews, smite it in the stalk, which cuts off the juice and sap that should ascend to nourish the ear; and so shrivels and dries up the grain while it is yet immature, 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 fills not his arms.
APPLICATION.
True grace from the infancy to the perfection thereof, conflicts with far more greater dangers, among which it answers meets with three dangerous periods which marvelously hazard it: so that it is a much greater wonder that it ever arrives at its just perfection. For (1) no sooner has 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 (Galatians 5:17): The flesh lusts against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh, and these are contrary the one to the other; so that you cannot do the things that you 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, namely, those graces in men which are the workmanship of the Spirit, and therefore called by his name. The opposition between these two is expressed by lusting (that is,) 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 to men in every saint (Colossians 3:9-10). From here an effective opposition 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 effectively 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 not oppose sin, it would cease to be grace. And this does much more endanger the work of grace, than any other enemy it has; because it works against it more inwardly, constantly, and advantageously, than any thing else can do. (1) More inwardly; for it has its being and working in the same soul where grace dwells, yea, in the self same faculties, so that is 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 you cannot do the good, nor yet the evil that you would; not the good that you would, because when the spirit moves 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? (Genesis 39:9). And if it cannot (which for the most part it does) hinder the acting of sin, yet it so engages the will against it, that it is not committed with complacency and full consent (Romans 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 (Matthew 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 has the advantage of the soil which suits with it. And yet, oh the wonder of free grace! it is not swallowed up in victory, it escapes this hazard.
But (Secondly,) it soon meets with another, though it escape 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 a harvest, we should have a heap: For, alas, what are we! to wrestle with principalities and powers, and spiritual wickednesses 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 are 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; among which these are excellent: (Isaiah 54:10), (Jeremiah 34:40), (1 Corinthians 1:8), (Psalm 1:3), (Psalm 125:1), (John 4:14). So that here is matter of unspeakable comfort; though the flesh say, Ego deficiam, I will fail you; though the world say, Ego decipiam, I will deceive you; though the devil say, Ego eripiam, I will snatch you away; yet as long as Christ says, I will never leave you nor forsake you; your graces are secure, in the midst of all these enemies.
REFLECTIONS.
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 O! (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 choked 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 a heap, in the day of grief, and desperate sorrow (Isaiah 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 has cursed.
Woe is me! I have revolted from God, and now that dreadful word (Jeremiah 17:5-6) is evidently fulfilled upon me; For I am like the heath in the desert, that sees not when good comes; my soul inhabits the parched places of the wilderness. Alas! all my formal and heartless duties were but as so many scarecrows 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! your case is sad, it will be better with the uncultivated wilderness, than with such a miscarrying soil, unless the great Husbandman plows you up the second time, and sows your heart with better seed.
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 wrapped 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 has 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 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 has made many comfortable and sweet promises to the graces 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 has promised them; and that is in the careful and diligent use of those means which he has prescribed (Ezekiel 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 has appointed; but yet, I am bound to provide food, clothing and medicine 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, has for many years hanged in suspense before you; and you have often said with David, I shall one day fall by the hand of Saul. Desponding, trembling soul, lift up your 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 choked it, yet it's preserved. And has not God more care of that precious seed of his own spirit in you, than any husbandman has of his corn? Has he not said, That having begun the good work in you; he will perfect it to the day of Christ (Philippians 2:6)? Has he not said, I give to them eternal life, and they shall never perish (John 12:28)? Have you not many times said, and thought of it, as you do now, and yet it lives? O, what matter of unspeakable joy and comfort is this to upright souls! Well then, be not discharged, for you do not run as one uncertain, nor fight as one that beats the air (1 Corinthians 9:26), but the foundation of God stands sure, having this seal, the Lord knows who are his (2 Timothy 2:19). Though your grace be weak, your God is strong — though the stream seem sometimes to fail, yet it's 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, threatening harms
Between 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 does fall
Into a second, no less critical.
It shoots forth the tender blade, and then
The noxious weeds engender it again.
These clasp about it till they kindly choke
The corn, as flattering ivy does the oak.
Are weeds destroyed, and all that danger past?
Lo now another comes, the worst at last.
For when in the 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 destroyed, 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 dangers past?
'Tis like a crazy bark tossed in a storm,
Or like a taper which is strangely born
Without a lantern, in a blustering night;
Or like to glimmering sparks whose dying light
Is still preserved: The roaring waves swell high
Like moving mountains in the darkened sky
On their proud back, the little bark is even
Mounted to the battlements of heaven,
From there dismounted to the deeps does slide
Receiving water upon every side;
Yet he whose voice the proudest waves obey
Brings it at last into the quiet quay.
The blustering 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 choked; and smothered they begin to die;
But these collected, we do gently blow,
Till from faint sparks to lively flames they grow.
Even thus is grace preserved, thus kept alive;
By constant wonders, grace does live and thrive.
