The Fruitless Vine by C. H. Spurgeon
A Sermon Delivered On Sunday Evening, March 22, 1857, By Pastor C. H. Spurgeon,
At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.
And the word of the Lord came to me, saying,—Son of man, How is the vine tree
better than any tree, or than a branch which is among the trees of the forest? (Eze
15:1,2)
1. The Jewish nation had arrogant ideas about themselves; when they sinned
against God, they supposed that on account of the superior sanctity of their
forefathers, or by reason of some special sanctity in themselves, they would be
delivered—sin as they pleased. In consequence of the infinite mercy of Jehovah,
which he had displayed towards them, in delivering them out of so many
distresses, they gradually came to imagine that they were the favourite children
of providence, and that God could by no means ever cast them away. God,
therefore, in order to humble their pride, tells them that they in themselves
were nothing more than any other nation; and he asks them what there was about
them to recommend them? “I have often called you a vine; I have planted you, and
nurtured you in a very fruitful hill, but now you bring forth no fruit; what is
there in you that I should continue to favour you? If you imagine there is
anything about you more than about any other nation, you are mightily mistaken.”
“How is the vine tree better than any tree, or than a branch which is among the
trees of the forest.”
2. Let us remember, that these things might be said, without implying that God
in the least degree alters his eternal purpose towards any chosen vessel of
mercy; for the Israelitish nation was not chosen to eternal salvation, as a
nation, but chosen to special privileges;—a type and shadow of that eternal
personal election, which Christ has given to his Church. From his own elect
Church, God will never withdraw his love; but from the outward and visible
church he sometimes may. From his own people he never will take away his
affection; but from professors, from those who merely stand in his people’s
external condition, and are not his children, he may, yes, and he will, withdraw
every token of his favour. God humbles Israel, by reminding them that they had
nothing which other nations had not,—that in fact they were a contemptible
nation, not worthy to be set side by side with the cedar of Lebanon, or with the
oak of Samaria; they were of no use, they were worthless, unless they brought
forth fruit for him. He checks their pride, and humbles them, with the parable
we have here before us.
3. Beloved, we shall, by God’s help, use this parable for ourselves, and learn
two lessons from it. The first shall be a lesson of humility for saints; and the
second, a lesson of searching for all who are professors.
4. I. First, here is A LESSON OF HUMILITY for all of you who have “tasted that
the Lord is gracious.” “How is the vine tree better than any tree, or than a
branch which is among the trees of the forest?”
5. In looking upon all the various trees, we observe, that the vine is
distinguished among them—so that, in the old parable of Jotham, the trees waited
upon the vine tree, and said to it, “Come and reign over us.” But merely looking
at the vine, without regard to its fruitfulness, we would not see any kingship
in it over other trees. In size, form, beauty, or utility, it has not the
slightest advantage. We can do nothing with the wood of the vine. “Shall wood be
taken from it to do any work? or will men make a peg from it to hang a vessel on
it?” It is a useless plant apart from its fruitfulness. We sometimes see it in
beauty, trained up by the side of our walls, and in the east it might be seen in
all its luxuriance, and great care is bestowed in its training; but leave the
vine to itself and consider it apart from its fruitfulness, it is the most
insignificant and despicable of all things that bear the name of trees. Now,
beloved, this is for the humbling of God’s people. They are called God’s vine;
but what are they by nature more than others? Others are as good as they; yes,
some others are even greater and better than they are. They, by God’s goodness,
have become fruitful, having been planted in a good soil; the Lord has trained
them upon the walls of the sanctuary, and they bring forth fruit for his glory.
But what are they without their God? What are they without the continual
influence of the Spirit, begetting fruitfulness in them? Are they not the least
among the sons of men, and the most to be despised of those that have been
brought forth from women? Look upon this, believer.
What was there in you to merit esteem,
Or give the Creator delight?
Yes, look upon yourself as you are now. Does your conscience not reproach you?
Do your thousand wanderings not stand before you, and tell you that you are
unworthy to be called his son? Does not the weakness of your mental power, the
frailty of your moral power, your continual unbelief, and your perpetual
backsliding from God, tell you that you are less than the least of all saints?
And if he has made you anything, are you not by it taught that it is grace, free
sovereign grace, which has made you to differ? Should any here, supposing
themselves to be the children of God, imagine that there is some reason in them
why they should have been chosen, let them know that as yet they are in the dark
concerning the first principles of grace, and have not yet learned the gospel.
If ever they had known the gospel, they would, on the other hand, confess that
they were less than the least—the offscouring of all things—unworthy,
ill-deserving, undeserving, and hell deserving, and ascribe it all to
distinguishing grace, which has made them to differ; and to discriminating love
which has chosen them out from the rest of the world. Great Christian, you would
have been a great sinner if God had not made you to differ. Oh! you who are
valiant for truth, you would have been as valiant for the devil if grace had not
laid hold upon you. A seat in heaven shall one day be yours; but a chain in hell
would have been yours if grace had not changed you. You can now sing about his
love, but a licentious song might have been on your lips if grace had not washed
you in the blood of Jesus. You are now sanctified; you are quickened, you are
justified; but what would you have been tonight if it had not been for the
interposition of the divine hand? There is not a crime you might not have
committed; there is not a folly into which you might not have run. Even murder
itself you might have committed if grace had not kept you. You shall be like the
angels; but you would have been like the devil if you had not been changed by
grace. Therefore, never be proud; all your garments you have from above; rags
were your only heritage. Do not be proud, though you have a large estate, a wide
domain of grace; you have not one single thing to call your own, except your sin
and misery. You are now wrapped in the golden righteousness of the Saviour, and
accepted in the garments of the Beloved, but you would have been buried under
the black mountain of sin, and clothed with the filthy rags of unrighteousness,
if he had not changed you. And are you proud? Do you exalt yourself? Oh! strange
mystery, that you, who have borrowed everything, should exalt yourself; that
you, who have nothing of your own, but have still to draw upon grace, should be
proud; a poor pensioner dependent upon the bounty of your Saviour, and yet
proud; one who has a life which can only live by fresh streams of life from
Jesus, and yet proud! Go, hang your pride upon the gallows, as high as Haman;
hang it there to rot, and stand you beneath, and curse it to all eternity; for
surely of all things most to be cursed and despised is the pride of a Christian.
He of all men has ten thousand times more reason than any other to be humble,
and walk lowly with his God, and kindly and humbly towards his fellow creatures.
Let this then humble you, Christian, that the vine tree is nothing more than any
other tree, except for the fruitfulness which God has given it.
6. II. But now here comes A LESSON OF SEARCH. As the vine without its fruit is
useless and worthless; so, too, the professor, without fruit, is useless and
worthless; yes, he is the most useless thing in the wide world.
7. Now, let us dwell upon this point. A fruitless profession. And while I am
preaching on it, let the words go around to each one, and let the minister, and
let his deacons, and let his hearers all try their hearts and search their
innermost being, and see whether they have a fruitless profession.
8. 1. First, a fruitless professor. How do we know him? what his character?
Secondly, What is the reason he is fruitless? Thirdly, What is God’s estimation
of him? He is good for nothing at all. And then, fourthly, What will be his end?
He is to be burned with fire.
9. First, Where are we to find fruitless professors? Everywhere, dear friends,
everywhere—down here, up there, everywhere; in pulpits and in pews. False
professors are to be found in every church. Let us leave other denominations
alone, then. They are to be found in this church; they are to be found in this
present gathering. To whatever denomination you may belong, there are some false
and fruitless professors in it. How do you know that you may not belong to those
who bring forth no fruit? There are fruitless professors to be found in every
position of the church, and in every part of society. You may find the false
professor among the rich; he has much wealth, and he is hailed with gladness by
the church. God has given him much of this world’s goods; and therefore, the
church, forgetful that God has chosen the poor gives him honour, and what does
she get from him? She gets very little to help her. Her poor are still
neglected, and her means not in the least recruited by his riches. Or if she
gains a portion of his riches, yet she gets none of his prayers; nor is she in
the least supported by his holy living, for he who has riches often lives in
sin, and rolls in uncleanness; and then wears his profession as a uniform, by
which to cover his guilt. Rich men have sometimes been false professors; and
they are to be found among poor men too. Very many a poor man has entered into
the church, and been cordially received. He has been poor, and they have thought
it a good thing that poverty and grace should go together—that grace should
cheer his hovel, and make his poverty stricken home a glad one. But then, this
poor man has turned aside to follies, and has degraded himself with drunkenness,
has sworn, and by unworthy conduct dishonoured his God; or, if not, he has been
idle, and sat still, and been of little service to the church; and so he has
been false and fruitless in his profession.
10. False professors are to be found in the men that lead the vanguard of God’s
army; the men who preach eloquently, whose opinion is law, who speak like
prophets, and whose language seems to be inspired. They have brought forth the
fruit of popularity, aye, and the fruit of philanthropy too, but their heart has
not been right with God, therefore, the fruit, good in itself, was not fruit to
holiness; the moral benefit of their labours does not extend to everlasting
life. They have not brought forth the fruits of the Spirit, seeing that they
were not living branches of the living vine. Then there have been false
professors in obscurity; modest people who have said nothing, and seldom been
heard from; they have glided into their pews on the Sunday morning, taken their
seats, gone out, and satisfied themselves that by their presence they had
fulfilled a religious duty. They have been so silent, quiet, and retiring; lazy
fellows, doing nothing. You may think that all the fruitless trees grow in the
hedge outside of the garden. No they do not. There are some fruitless trees
inside it, in its very centre. There are some false professors to be found in
obscurity as well as in public; some among the poor as well as among the rich.
11. And there are false professors to be found among men that doubt a great
deal. They are always afraid they do not love Jesus, and always saying, “Ah, if
I only know that I were his!—
‘Tis a point I long to know;
Oft it causes anxious thought.”
Yes, and it ought to cause them anxious thought, too, if they are bringing forth
no fruit, and giving no “diligence to make their galling and election sure.”
Fruitless professors are to be found, on the other hand, among the confident
men, who say, without a blush, “I know whom I have believed; I know I am a
Christian, let who will doubt. I am sure and certain my sins cannot destroy me,
and my righteousness cannot save me. I may do what I like; I know I am one of
the Lord’s.” Ah! fruitless professor again; just as fruitless as the other man,
who had all doubts and no faith, and did nothing for his Master.
12. And then there is the fruitless professor, who, when he is asked to pray at
the prayer meeting, never does so; and who neglects family prayer. We will not
say anything about private devotion; no doubt he neglects that too: he is a
fruitless one. Ah! but there may be another, who stands up and prays such an
eloquent prayer for a quarter of an hour, perhaps, just as fruitless a professor
as the silent one; with plenty of words, but no realities; many leaves, but no
fruits, great gifts of utterance, but no gifts of consistency; able to talk
well, but not to walk well; to speak piously, but not to walk humbly with his
God, and serve him with gladness. I do not know your individual characters
tonight; but I know enough of you to say that your position, however honourable
in the church, and your character, however fair before men, is not enough to
warrant any of you in concluding at once that you are not a fruitless professor.
For fruitless professors are of every character and every rank, from the highest
to the lowest, from the most talented to the most illiterate, from the richest
to the poorest, from the most retiring to the most conspicuous. Fruitless
professors there are in every part of the church.
13. Now, shall I tell you who is a fruitless professor? The man who neglects
private prayer, and does not walk with his God in public; that man whose conduct
and conversation before God are hypocritical; who cheats in trade and robs in
business, yet wraps it up, and comes out with a fair face, like the hypocrite
with a widow’s house sticking in his throat, and says, “Lord, I thank you I am
not as other men are!” There is a man for you, who brings forth no fruit to
perfection. Another one is he who lives very morally and excellently, and
depends upon his works and hopes to be saved by his righteousness: who comes
before God, and asks for pardon, with a lie in his right hand, for he has
brought his own self-righteousness with him. Such a man is a fruitless
professor; he has brought forth no fruit. That man, again, is a fruitless
professor who talks big words about high doctrine, and likes sound truth, but he
does not like sound living: his pretensions are high but not his practice. He
can bear to hear it said,
“Once in Christ, in Christ for ever.”
But as for himself he never was in Christ at all, for he neither loves nor
serves his Master, but lives in sin that grace may abound. There is another
fruitless vine for you.
14. But why do I need to stop to single you out? May the Lord find you out
tonight! There are many of you here, concerning whom the curse of Meroz might be
uttered “Curse Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse bitterly its
inhabitants; because they did not come to the help of the Lord, to the help of
the Lord against the mighty.” Many of you are content to eat the fat and drink
the sweet, and bring forth no fruit for God; nor do you serve him—lazy Issachars,
crouching down like a strong ass between two burdens; neither speaking for
Christ, nor praying for Christ, nor giving to Christ, nor living for Christ, but
having a name to live, while you are dead; wrapping yourselves up in a
profession, while you are not living for Christ, nor consecrating your being to
him. Judge what I say; if you were put into the sieve this night, how many of
you would come out clean in this matter? Are there not many high flying
professors here, who fly high, but who do nothing; who can talk fast, but live
as slowly as you like; who, perhaps, delight in hearing the truth, but who never
practise the truth in serving their God, nor living to his honour? Such as you,
sirs, are the most useless and worthless of all creatures in the world! For,
like the vine, you would be honourable if you were fruitful; but without fruit,
as the vine is despicable, so are you good for nothing but to be cast out and
burned.
15. 2. And now I come to the second question—Why is it that these men are
fruitless, and must be cast away? The reason is, because they have no roots.
Many, many professors have no roots; fine professors they are, beautiful to look
at, but they have no roots whatever. Do not you remember your childish behaviour;
when you had a little garden of your own when you plucked some flowers, and put
them in the ground, and said that was your garden; and when you went the next
day, and found that all the flowers were withered and dead? Such are many
professors—pretty flowers, plucked off without roots; having no adherence to the
soil, drawing no sap and no nourishment from it. And therefore that is why they
die, and bring forth no fruit. You come to us, and say, “I wish to join the
church.” We question you as far as we are able; you solemnly tell us that your
hearts are right with God. We baptize you, receive you into our number; but then
there was no root in many of you, and after a while you die; when the sun has
risen with a burning heat you perish; or if you maintain a tolerably fair
profession, yet there is never any fruit upon you, because you did not get the
root first; you got the notion first, and then thought you would get the root
afterwards. I do tremble for many young people in my church—I will not exclude
my own church. They get an idea into their heads that they are converted: the
work was not true, not genuine not real; it was an excitement; it was a stir in
the conscience for awhile, and it will not last. But the worst of it is, that
though it does not last, they last as professors. When they have been received
into the church, they say, “I am sure enough!” Preach about them as long as you
please, you cannot get at them. They are church members, they are baptized
people, they have crossed the Rubicon; what more could they want? You can do
little for them. I do tremble for these. For my most hard hearted hearers I weep
before God; but for these people I need to have four eyes to weep with. For who
can make an impression upon them, when they are firmly persuaded that they are
right, and have had the seal of the church that they are right, though
notwithstanding that they are deceiving themselves and others, and are still “in
the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity.” My young friends, I do not
want to hinder any of you in joining a church; but I do say to you, make sure
work of it before you make a profession. I would say to as many of you as love
the Lord, come forward and unite with God’s people; but, I beseech you, do be
sure, do “search your hearts and try your reins.” Many have thought themselves
converted when they were not; hundreds of thousands have had an impression, a
kind of conversion, not real, which for a while endured, but afterwards it
passed away as a summer’s dream. It was only a little while ago that I had in my
house a gentleman, an excellent man, and I believe a true child of God, who told
me he had been brought seriously under the impression, on account of sin,
through hearing a sermon of late. “But,” he said, “I was baptized in my
childhood. When I was only young, there was a revival in our village, in New
England. Mine was the hardest heart in the village; but I was found out at last.
There was scarcely a boy or girl that did not join the church, and I was at last
brought under deep conviction. I used to weep before God, and pray to him. I
went to the minister and told him I was converted, deceived him, and was
baptized.” And then he went on to tell me that he had dived into the blackest
crimes, and gone far away, even from the profession of religion; that after
going to College he had been struck off the church roll on account of
wickedness, and that up to this time he had been an infidel, and had not so much
as thought of the things of the kingdom. Take heed, many of you, that you do not
get a sham religion. Many jump into godliness as they would into a bath; but
they are very glad to jump out of it again, when they find the world pays them
better. And there are many who will just come and say they are the Lord’s, and
they think they are, but there is no root in them, and therefore by and by their
impressions pass away. Oh! we have many fruitless professors in our midst,
because they did not look well to their beginnings; they did not take heed at
their starting point; they did not watch well the first dawn; they thought the
little farthing rush candle of their own hopes was the dawning of the sun of
righteousness; they thought the bleeding of their own conscience was a killing
by the hand of God, whereas it was a deeper, and better, and surer, and more
entire work that they needed, than that which they received. Let us take heed,
my brethren, that we do not put too much trust in our experiences, and take too
much for granted while it is not yet proven in our beginnings; let us often go
back and begin again; let us often go to Christ with the old cry—
Nothing in my hands I bring,
Simply to your cross I cling.
For remember that these bad beginnings have had a great effect in making a man
fruitless.
16. 3. And again, thirdly, what is God’s estimation of fruitless professors? I
shall not ask you their own; for there are many men who are professors of
religion, with whom you might make your fortune very speedily if you could buy
them at your price and sell them at their own. There are many, too, that have a
very good opinion of themselves, which they have gained from the church. The
minister thinks well of them; the church thinks well of them; they are
respectable people; it is so nice to have them come, it helps the cause so, to
see such respectable people sitting in the pews! Really, I do think he would do
for a deacon! Everyone thinks well of him; everyone praises him. Now we have
nothing to do with this kind of opinion tonight; our business is with Gods
opinion of such a man. And God’s opinion of a man who makes a profession without
being sincere, is this—that he is the most useless thing in the world. And now
let me try to prove it. Is there anyone that will prove that this man is of any
use at all? I will ask the church:—Here is a man that brings forth no fruit, and
has only a profession. Members of the church, what is the use of this man? Will
he comfort any of you in your distress? Will he hold up the pastor’s hands in
prayer, when he is weary? Will he lead the troops to battle? Will he be of any
service to you? I see you unanimously lift up your hands, and say, “The man is
of no use to us whatever, if he brings forth no fruit; if his life is not
consistent with his profession; strike his name off the church roll; let him go;
he is of no use.” Where has he gone? He has gone to the world. Bring the
worldling up. What do you think of this man? He makes a profession of religion.
Is he of any use to you? “No,” they say, “we do not want such a fellow as that.
The man is Jack-of-both-sides; he is sometimes a professor of religion, and
sometimes a sinner in the world. We will have nothing to do with him; turn him
out of our company.” Where shall we sell him, then? How shall we dispose of him?
He seems to be of no use either to the church or the world. Is he of any use to
his family? Ask his oldest son. “John, is your father any good to you?” “No,
sir; not at all. He used to pray the Lord to save us with seeming earnestness,
and rise from his knees to give vent to his temper. Many a violent blow has he
given to me without any reasonable provocation. He was always a passionate man.
He used to go to chapel on Sunday and take us with him; and then we know what he
used to do on Monday; he would get drunk, or swear. A deal of use he ever was to
me! He made me an infidel, sir!” Ask his wife. “Well, what do you think of this
good husband of yours? He has long made a profession of religion.” “Ah! sir it
is not for me to say a word about my husband; but he has made me a miserable
woman. I think I would have joined your church long ago, if it had not been for
his miserable inconsistencies. But really he has grieved my heart; he has always
been a stumblingblock to me; and what to do with him I do not know.” Well, Jane,
we will have you come out of the kitchen. “What do you think of your employer;
he makes a profession of religion, yet does not live a righteous life. What do
you think of him?” “Well, I did think that Christians were a good sort of
people, and that I should like to live with them; but if this is Christianity,
sir, I will take five pounds a year less to live with a worldly man; that’s all
I can say.” Well, what is the use of him? I suppose he does something in
business. He is a grand professor. He keeps a shop; everyone thinks that he is a
most respectable man. Has he not given a hundred pounds just now to the building
of a new church? Is he not always known to subscribe liberally to ragged
schools? We will ask his men. What do you think of your employer? “What do we
think of him? Why, we would think a great deal more of him if he would give us a
half-crown a week more wages; for he is the worst paymaster in the parish.”
“That is nothing perhaps. But what do you think of him?” “Why, that he is an
unutterable hypocrite! Some of us did go to a place of worship, but we are
honest, and we would rather stay away than go with such a miserable hypocrite.”
I am describing real cases and not fictions. I need not to go farther than
between this and London Bridge to knock at the door and wake them up, some of
them. What is the good of such professors? If they would speak honestly, and
say, “I am no Christian,” there would be some sense in it. For if Baal is God,
let Baal be served; and if the world is worth serving, let a man serve it whole
heartedly, and let him get the credit of candour—not cheating the devil. But if
God is God, and a man lives in sin, and talk about grace, then of what use is
he? God himself will disown him. Ask him if this man has been of any use, and he
replies, “No, of no use whatever.” The vine is of no use unless it brings forth
fruit; and this man, making a profession, is worse than worthless, because he
does not live up to it. My dear friends, I would not say an extravagant thing,
but I will say this very coolly:—if any of you who make a profession of religion
are deceiving others, by not living up to it, I do request you—and I say it
advisedly—I do request you to give up your profession, unless God gives you
grace to live up to it. Do not, I beseech you, halt between two opinions; if God
is God serve him, and do it thoroughly; do not tell lies about it. If Baal is
God, if he is a nice master, if you would like to serve him, and win his wages,
serve him; but do not mix the two together; be one thing, or else the other.
Renounce your profession, and serve the devil thoroughly, or else keep your
profession, and serve God with all your heart—one thing, or else the other. I
solemnly exhort you to choose which you will have, but never think that you can
keep both; for “no man can serve two masters.” “You cannot serve God and
mammon.”
17. 4. And now let me close up by mentioning what is to become of this fruitless
tree? We are told it is to be devoured in the fire. When an old vine is pulled
off the wall, after having brought forth no fruit, what becomes of it? You know,
there are a lot of weeds raked up in a corner of the garden, and the gardener,
without taking any notice of it, just throws the vine on the heap of weeds, and
it is burned up. If it were any other kind of tree he would at least reserve it
for chopping up to make a fire within the master’s house, but this is such an
ignominious thing, he throws it away in the corner, and burns it up with the
weeds. If it was a stout old oak, it might have the funeral of the yule log,
with honour in its burning, and brightness in its flame; but the fruitless vine
is treated with contempt, and left to smoulder with the weeds, the refuse, and
the rubbish. It is a miserable thing. Just so with professors; all men who do
not love God must perish. But those who profess to love him, and do not, shall
perish with singular ignominy. “They shall not come into the sepulchres of the
kings.” Something like that ancient king, of whom it was said, “He shall be
buried with the burial of an ass, drawn and cast forth beyond the gates of
Jerusalem.” The damnation of a professor will be the most horrible and
ignominious sight that ever hell itself has seen! When Satan fell from heaven,
with his black Satanic malice against God, there was a kind of grandeur in his
devilry; there was an awful, terrific sublimity in his damnation; and when a
great blasphemer and a hard swearer shall be sent at last to perdition, there
shall be something of sublimity in it, because he has been consistent with his
profession. But when a professor of religion finds himself in hell, it shall be
the most miserable, contemptible, and yet terrible mode of damnation by which
men were ever damned. I think I see honest blasphemers lifting themselves from
their chains of fire, and hissing between their teeth at the minister who comes
there, after having been a deceiver,—“Aha! aha! aha! are you here with us? You
did warn us of our drunkenness, and tell us of our curse; ah! are you come into
the drunkard’s hell yourself?” “Pshaw!” says another, “that is your strict
Pharisee. Ah! I remember how he told me one night that I would perish, unless I
made a profession of religion. Take that, sir!” and he spits upon him. “You are
a loathsome thing. I perished; but I served my master well. You—you pretended to
serve God, and yet you are a sneaking hypocrite!” Another says, yelling from the
corner of the pit, “Let us have a Methodist hymn, sir; quote a promise from the
Bible; tell us about election. Let us have a little of your fine preaching now.”
And around hell there goes the hiss, and the “aha! aha! aha!” and the yell of
spitefulness and scorn upon the man who professed to be a Christian, but became
a castaway, because his heart was not right in the matter. I confess, I would
dread above all things the unutterable hell of hells of hypocritical apostates,
of men who stand in the ranks, profess to love God, prate of godliness, that sit
in the pews and uphold Christianity, that take the sacrament, and speak about
communion, that stand up to pray, and talk about being heard for their faith,
who are all the while committing abominations, and under the cover of their
profession are cheating the poor, robbing the fatherless, and doing all kinds of
iniquity. I confess, I as much dread the excess of their damnation above the
damnation of others, as I dread to be damned at all. It is as if in hell another
hell had been made, to damn those who sin above others, to damn them after being
damned—for hypocrites, for men who have been with us, and not of us; who
professed to be Christ’s, and yet have been base deceivers after all. Oh! sirs,
if you would not make your chains more heavy, if you would not stir the fire to
a more furious heat, if you would not make your yells more hideous, quit your
professions this night, if you are not worthy of them. Go out of this place, and
send in your resignation to the church; or else, sirs, be honest, and bend your
knee before God, and ask him to search you, and try you, and make you sincere
and upright before him. Be one thing, or else the other; do not cloak yourselves
in the robes of sanctity to hide the corruptions that all the while fester
beneath. Stand out, bold, brave sinners; and do not be base, sneaking sinners
that wear the masks of saints “How is the vine better than any other tree?”
Without fruit it is worse than any other. It must perish more dolefully, more
horribly than any other, if there is on it no fruit brought to perfection. Does
not that shake us? Ah! it will shake you, very likely, that do not want the
shaking; but the men that need arousing will keep just as they were. It will go
into the hearts of some of you, like the cry, “Howl, Moab, howl, Moab!” but
alas! Moab will not howl. You will weep for Kirhareseth, but Kirhareseth will
not weep for herself. You will weep for your hypocritical friends; but they will
rub their eyes, and say, “A strong sermon; but it has nothing to do with me.”
And they will go out with cool presumption; sin with one hand, and take the
sacramental cup with the other; sing the lascivious song one night, and then
sing,
“Jesus, lover of my soul,”
the day after. Meet Christ here, and take the devil yonder, and bid him God
speed in all his freaks of devilry. Ah! sirs, sirs, sirs, take heed, take heed,
I beseech you, of this matter. Let us each search our hearts, lest we should
have been deceived. And may God bring us to a right understanding in this
matter, that we may be clear before him. “Search me, oh God, and know my ways;
try me, and know my thoughts, and see if there is any wicked way in me; and lead
me in the way everlasting.”
18. And, now, I must not send you away until I have had a word with my friend in
the aisle there. He says, “I like that, I like that; I am no professor, I am
not; I am all right. No one can call me a hypocrite.” Well, my dear friend, I am
very glad you are not, because you say you are no Christian. But let me tell
you, you must not expect to be a great deal better off for that. Suppose two men
are brought up before the Lord Mayor, and one says, “Your worship, I am an
honest man and not guilty;” and he blushes that an imputation should be cast on
his character. Well he is proven to be guilty, and gets committed to prison for
three months. Up comes the other one and says, “Your worship, I am a guilty man;
I always was a rogue, and I always shall be; I do not make any profession at
all.” “I think I must give you six months,” says his worship, “for really I
think you must be the more determined rascal of the two.” So if any of you say,
“I do not make a profession, I shall be all right,” let me tell you, that to
make a lying profession is a very fearful thing; but for you to think of getting
off because you make no profession at all, is equally bad. Take heed you do not
deceive yourselves; it must be the new heart and the right spirit with God, or
else, profession or no profession, we must perish. Oh! that God would give us
grace to go to our houses, and cry to him for mercy, and would help us to repent
of our sins, and bring us to put our trust simply and wholly upon the Lord Jesus
Christ! So should we be saved now, and saved for ever.
http://www.answersingenesis.org/articles/2009/05/29/fruitless-vine