IV. THE LORD MAKES “THE DRY TREE TO FLOURISH.”
There are some dry trees to be pitied in their present
condition, yet to be congratulated on their prospects.
I would not say a word to encourage doubting, but I
would say a great many words to encourage doubters. How
many of God’s people may be fitly compared to a dry
tree! They have little joy; they have not got to full
assurance. They are afraid to say, “My Beloved is mine,
and I am his.” Every night, before they go to bed, they
feel such consciousness of sin that they can hardly
sleep. They feel themselves so weak that where others
go and think nothing of it, they dare not trust
themselves. They are afraid to risk temptation;
sometimes they are so conscious of their own weakness,
that they do not exert themselves as they ought, and
hence their low spirits, their melancholy, and their
mourning. They think they are of no use to the church,
they are half inclined to suspect it was a mistake for
them to be baptized, and that they were to blame for
uniting themselves with the people of God. “Oh!” say
they, “if I be a lamb, I am the sickliest of the whole
flock.” Were I an heir of promise, should I feel the
assaults of sin as I do? or should I be so much the
prey of indwelling corruption, and become so dry and
withered? Do they retire to the closet to pray, hardly
a word can they utter. They come to, the assembly of
believers, and though they do sing with their lips, the
heart cannot sing as it would. There are times, too,
when walking home they say, “I go where others go, but
I get no comfort; if I were really the Lord’s, should I
be thus; if I did trust Christ, should I ever be so
languid?” Brethren, if it is of your own bringing about
that you are thus dry, I do not offer you any comfort;
but if the Holy Spirit has led you to see your
weakness, your nothingness, your deadness, then I am
glad you have been brought to this pass, for God will
cause the dry tree to flourish. When we are weak, then
are we strong. The death warrant is gone out from God
against everything that is of the creature. All that is
of nature’s spinning must be unravelled; not your bad
nature only, but your good nature; not your vices only,
but your virtues; not your sins alone, but your graces;
all these must be contemned and despised so far as you
venture to put them in the place at Christ. You must
cry “Away with them; away with them,” as if they were
so much dung and dross. Christ’s blood only for our
hope, the Spirit’s work only for our life. Here let us
stand, and we shall be safe. The dry tree by divine
grace shall flourish; the green tree, deserted by the
dew of heaven, shall dry up. The low tree, fostered by
the husbandman, shall mount even to the stars; the high
tree, cut down by the axe of judgment, shall lay
outstretched along the plains of ruin for ever.
I think I see the last great day. There is a greater
forest than this; this is but one corner of it. I see
that forest stretched over sea and land, over mountain
and valley. It is a forest of men. There stand the
Pharisees, the self-righteous, the tyrants, the
autocrats of haughty mien, the men of profound
intellect with lofty brows, the men that questioned
God’s government; the infidels who said “Atheos,” and
denied his being. I see the high trees, that towered to
such an elevation, and attracted so much admiration;
and there, too, are the low trees contented to he low,
for Christ of Nazareth was lowly. He, whose disciples
they are, came riding on an ass even in the day of his
highest earthly triumph. And now I hear the trumpet
ring exceeding loud and long. Through the glades of
that vast human forest the sound comes ringing broad
and clear, “Smite! smite! smite! and let all the high
trees fall!” O God, what a crash!
He smote great kings and slew famous kings; for his
mercy endureth for ever. He smites. What! another
crash? The orthodox who rested in their orthodoxy, and
the self-righteous men and women fall there; yonder the
philosophic atheist, and here the scoffing sceptic;
there the haughty persecutor, and there, again, the
pompous priest and pretentious ceremonialist. Gather
them; in Tophet, ordained of old, pile them together,
cedar upon oak, and elm upon fir, gather them together.
pile them on, pile them up; let the breath of the Lord,
like a stream of brimstone, come upon the mighty pile.
It is the funeral pyre of the giants. There lies the
dead body of sin, and here comes the living spouse of
sin, to be immolated upon that same pile. Her name is
Pride. She comes; they clasp. The great transgression
and the evil imagination, together they lie down, and
the flames arise. Now the cedars, full of resin, give
forth their flame, the sparks go up to heaven, and the
flames even unto the throne of God, whilst I hear the
voices of multitudes singing, “Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! for thou hast judged the great temptress,
even Pride, and thou hast given her up to be burned
with fire!” But what of you, what of you, that will be
faggots to that great burning? What of you, proud sons
of men, that will be fuel to that flame? Turn ye, turn
ye! Fly ye to Christ, and then you shall stand in the
judgment, and join in the anthem, “Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” “Be wise now therefore, O ye
kings; be instructed, ye judges of the earth. Serve the
Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the
son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way when
his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they
that put their trust in him.” Oh! that we all may be
found among the humble-not the haughty-in our present
life, and that we may be gathered among the blessed,
not destroyed among those whom the Lord abhorreth, in
our future destiny!
“This article originally appeared here at Bible Bulletin Board.”
