 Chapter 15 of Talks to Farmers This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lauren Randall Talks to Farmers by Charles H. Spurgeon Spiritual Gleaning Let her glean even among the sheaves and reproach her not. Ruth. Chapter 2, Verse 15 Country friends need no explanation of what is meant by gleaning. I hope the custom will never be banished from the land, but that the poor will always be allowed their little share of the harvest. I am afraid that many who see gleaning every year in the fields of their own parish are not yet wise enough to understand the heavenly art of spiritual gleaning. That is the subject which I have chosen on this occasion and my text is taken from the charming story of Ruth, which is known to every one of you. I shall use the story as setting forth our own case in a homely but instructive way. In the first place, we shall observe that there is a great husbandman. It was Boaz in Ruth's case. It is our Heavenly Father who is the husbandman in our case. Secondly, we shall notice a humble gleener. The gleener was Ruth in this instance, but she may be looked upon as the representative of every believer. And in the third place, here is a gracious permission given to Ruth. Let her glean even among the sheaves and reproach her not. And the same permission is spiritually given to us. In the first place, the God of the whole earth is a great husbandman. This is true in natural things. As a matter of fact, all farm operations are carried on by his power and prudence. Man may plow the soil and sow the seed, but as Jesus said, my father is the husbandman. He appoints the clouds and elots the sunshine. He directs the winds and distributes the dew and the rain. He also gives the frost and the heat. And so by various processes of nature, he brings forth food for man and beast. All the farming, however, which God does, is for the benefit of others, and never for himself. He has no need of any of our works of husbandry. If he were hungry, he would not tell us. The cattle on the thousand hills, says he, are mine. The purest kindness and benevolence are those which dwell in the heart of God. Though all things are God's, his works in creation and in providence are not for himself but for his creatures. This should greatly encourage us in trusting to him. In spiritual matters God is a great husbandman, and there too all his works are done for his children, that they may be fed upon the finest of the wheat. Permit me to speak of the wide gospel fields which are heavenly father farms for the good of his children. There is a great variety of these fields, and they are all fruitful, for the fountain of Jacob shall be upon a land of corn and wine. Also his heavens shall drop down due, Deuteronomy chapter 33 verse 28. Every field which our heavenly father tills yields a plentiful harvest, for there are no failures or famines with him. One part of his farm is called doctrine field. What full sheaves of finest wheat are to be found there. He who is permitted to glean in it will gather bread enough and to spare. For the land brings forth by handfuls. Look at that godly sheaf of election, full indeed of heavy ears of corn, such as Pharaoh saw in his first dream, ears full and strong. There is the great sheaf of final perseverance, where each ear is a promise that the work which God has begun he will assuredly complete. If we have not faith enough to partake of either of these sheaves, we may glean around the choice sheaves of redemption by the blood of Christ. Many a poor soul who could not feed on electing love nor realize his perseverance in Christ can yet feed on the atonement and rejoice in the sublime doctrine of substitution. Many and rich are the sheaves which stand thick together in doctrine field. These, when thrashed by meditation and ground in the mill of thought, furnish royal food for the Lord's family. I wonder why it is that some of our masters, stewards, are so prone to lock the gate of this field, as if they thought it dangerous ground. For my part, I wish my people not only to glean here, but to carry home the sheaves by the wagon-load, for they cannot be too well fed when truth is the food. Are my fellow laborers afraid that Jeshorin will wax fat and kick if he has too much food? I fear there is more likelihood of his dying of starvation if the bread of sound doctrine is withheld. If we have a love to the precepts and warnings of the Word, we need not be afraid of the doctrines. On the contrary, we should search them out and feed upon them with joy. The doctrines of distinguishing grace are to be set forth in due proportions to the rest of the Word. And those are poor pulpits from which these grand truths are excluded. We must not keep the Lord's people out of this field. I say swing the gate open and come in all of you who are children of God. I am sure that in my master's field nothing grows which will harm you. Gospel doctrine is always safe doctrine. You may feast upon it till you are full and no harm will come of it. Be afraid of no revealed truth. Be afraid of spiritual ignorance but not of holy knowledge. Grow in grace and in the knowledge of your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Being taught in the Word of God is meant to be the subject of a Christian's study. Therefore neglect nothing. Visit the doctrine field daily and glean in it with the utmost diligence. The great husbandman has another field called promise field. Of that I shall not need to speak for I hope you often enter it and glean from it. Just let us take an ear or two out of one of the sheaves and show them to you that you may be induced to stay there the live long day and carry home a rich load at night. Here is an ear. The mountains shall depart and the hills be removed. But my kindness shall not depart from thee. Neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed. Here is another. When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee. When thou walkest through the fire thou shalt not be burned. Neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. Here is another. It has a short stalk but a heavy ear. My strength is sufficient for thee. Another is long in the straw but very rich in corn. Let not your heart be troubled ye believe in God believe also in me. In my father's house are many mansions. If it were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you and if I go and prepare a place for you I will come again and receive you unto myself. That where I am there ye may be also. What a word is that. I will come again. Yes, beloved, we can say of the promised field what cannot be said of a single acre in all England. Namely, that it is so rich a field that it could not be richer and that it has so many years of corn in it that you could not insert another. As the poet sings, what more can he say than to you he hath said, you who unto Jesus for refuge have fled. Glean in that field, O ye poor and needy ones, and never think that you are intruding. The whole field is your own. Every ear of it. You may draw out from the sheaves themselves, and the more you take, the more you may. Then there is ordnance field. A great deal of good wheat grows in this field. The field of baptism has been exceedingly fruitful to some of us, for it has set forth to us our death, burial, and resurrection in Christ, and thus we have been cheered and instructed. It has been good for us to declare ourselves on the Lord's side, and we have found that in keeping our Lord's commandments there is great reward. But I will not detain you long in this field. For some of our friends think it has a damp soil. I wish them more light and more grace. However, we will pass on to the field of the supper, where grows the very best of our Lord's corn. What rich things have we fed upon in this choice spot. Have we not there tasted the sweetest and most sustaining of all spiritual food? In all the estate no field is to be found to rival this center and crown of all the domain. This is the king's acre. Gospel-gleaner abide in that field, glean in it on the first day of every week, and expect to see your Lord there, for it is written. He was known of them in the breaking of bread. The heavenly husbandman has one field upon a hill, which equals the best of the others, even if it does not excel them. You cannot really and truly go into any of the other fields unless you pass into this, for the road to the other fields lies through this hill farm. It is called fellowship and communion with Christ. This is the field for the Lord's choicest ones to glean in. Some of you have only run through it. You have not stopped long enough in it, but he who knows how to stay here, yea, to live here, shall spend his hours most profitably and pleasantly. It is only in proportion, as we hold fellowship with Christ and communion with him, that either ordinances or doctrines or promises can profit us. All other things are dry and barren unless we are enjoying the love of Christ, unless we bear his likeness, unless we dwell continually with him and rejoice in his love. I am sorry to say that few Christians think much of this field. It is enough for them to be sound in doctrine and tolerably correct in practice. They care far less than they should about intimate intercourse with Christ Jesus their Lord, by the Holy Ghost. I am sure that if we gleaned in this field we should not have half so many naughty tempers, nor a tenth as much pride, nor a hundredth part so much sloth. This is a field hedged and sheltered, and in it you will find better food than that which angels feed upon, yea, you will find Jesus himself as the bread which came down from heaven. Blessed, blessed field, may we visit it every day. The Master leaves the gate wide open for every believer. Let us enter in and gather the golden ears till we can carry no more. Thus we have seen the great husbandman in his fields. Let us rejoice that we have such a great husbandman near and such fields to glean in. And now in the second place we have a humble gleaner. Both was a gleaner and may serve as an illustration of what every believer should be in the fields of God. The believer is a favored gleaner, for he may take home a whole sheaf if he likes. He may bear away all that he can possibly carry for all things are freely given him of the Lord. I use the figure of a gleaner because I believe that few Christians ever go much beyond it, and yet they are free to do so if they are able. One may say, why does not the believer reap all the field and take all the corn home with him? I answer that he is welcome to do so if he can, for no good thing will the Lord withhold from them that walk uprightly. If your faith is like a great wagon, and you can carry the whole field of corn, you have full permission to take it. Alas, our faith is so little that we rather glean than reap. We are straightened in ourselves, not in our God. May you all outgrow the metaphor and come home, bringing your sheaves with you. Again, we may remark that the gleaner in her business has to endure much toil and fatigue. She rises early in the morning and she trudges off to a field. If that be closed, she hastens to another, and if that be shut up or gleaned already, she hurries farther still, and all day long while the sun is shining upon her, she seldom sits down to refresh herself. But still she goes on, stoop, stoop, stoop, gathering the ears one by one. She returns not to her home till nightfall, for she desires, if the field is good, to do much business that day, and she will not go home until she is loaded down. Beloved, so let each one of us do when we seek spiritual food. Let us not be afraid of a little fatigue in the master's fields. If the gleaning is good, we must not soon weary in gathering the precious spoil, for the gains will richly reward our pains. I know a friend who walks five miles every Sunday to hear the gospel, and has the same distance to return. Another thinks a little of ten miles journey, and these are wise, for to hear the pure word of God no labor is extravagant. To stand in the aisle till ready to drop, listening all the while with strained attention is a toil which meets a full reward if the gospel be heard, and the Spirit of God bless it to the soul. A gleener does not expect that the ears will come to her of themselves. She knows that gleaning is hard work. We must not expect to find the best field next to our own house. We may have to journey to the far end of the parish, but what of that? Gleaners must not be choosers, and where the Lord sends the gospel, there He calls us to be present. We remark next that every ear the gleener gets she has to stoop for. Why is it that proud people seldom profit under the word? Why is it that certain intellectual folk cannot get any good out of our soundest ministers? Why? Because they must needs have the corn lifted up for them. And if the wheat is held so high over their heads that they can hardly see it, they are pleased and cry. Here is something wonderful. They admire the extraordinary ability of the man who can hold up the truth so high that nobody can reach it. But truly that is a sorry feat. The preacher's business is to place truth within the reach of all, children as well as adults. He is to let fall handfuls on purpose for poor gleaners, and these will never mind stooping to collect the ears. If we preach to the educated people only, the wise ones can understand, but the illiterate cannot. But when we preach in all simplicity to the poor, other classes can understand it if they like, and if they do not like, they had better go somewhere else. Those who cannot stoop to pick up plain truth had better give up gleaning. For my part, I would be taught by a child if I could thereby know and understand the gospel better. The gleaning in our Lord's field is so rich that it is worth the hardest labor to be able to carry home a portion of it. Hungry souls know this and are not to be hindered in seeking their heavenly food. We will go down on our knees in prayer and stoop by self-humiliation and confession of ignorance, and so gather with the hand of faith the daily bread of our hungering souls. Note in the next place that what a gleener gets, she wins ear by ear. Occasionally she picks up a handful at once, but as a rule, it is straw by straw. In the case of Ruth, handfuls were let fall on purpose for her, but she was highly favored. The gleener stoopes and gets one ear, and then she stoopes again for another. Now, beloved, where there are handfuls to be got at once, there is the place to go and glean. But if you cannot meet with such abundance, be glad to gather ear by ear. I have heard of certain persons who have been in the habit of hearing a favorite minister, and when they go to another place they say, I cannot hear anybody after my own minister. I shall stay at home and read a sermon. Please remember the passage, not forsaking the assembling of yourselves together as the manner of some is. Let me also entreat you not to be so foolishly partial as to deprive your soul of its food. If you cannot get a handful at one stoop, do not refuse to gather an ear at a time. If you are not content to learn here a little and there a little, you will soon be half starved, and then you will be glad to get back again to the despised minister and pick up what his field will yield you. That is a sorry ministry which yields nothing. Go and glean where the Lord has opened the gate for you. Why the text alone is worth the journey. Do not miss it. Note next that what the gleaner picks up she keeps in her hand. She does not drop the corn as fast as she gathers it. There is a good thought at the beginning of the sermon, but the hearers are so eager to hear another that the first one slips away. Toward the end of the sermon a large handful falls in their way, and they forget all that went before in their eagerness to retain this last and richest portion. The sermon is over, and alas, it is nearly all gone from the memory. For many are about as wise as a gleaner would be if she should pick up one ear and drop it, pick up another, and drop it, and so on all day. The net result of such a day's work in a stubble is a bad backache. And I fear that all our hearers will get by their hearing will be a headache. Be attentive, but be retentive too. Gather the grain and tie it up in bundles for carrying away with you, and mind you, do not lose it on the road home. Many a person, when he has got a fair hold of the sermon, loses it on the way to his house by idle talk with vain companions. I have heard of a Christian man who was seen hurrying home one Sunday with all his might. A friend asked him why he was in such haste. Oh, said he, two or three Sundays ago our minister gave us a most blessed discourse, and I greatly enjoyed it. But when I got outside, there were two deacons discussing, and one pulled the sermon one way, and the other the other. Till they pulled it all to pieces, and I lost all the savor of it. Those must have been very bad deacons. Let us not imitate them. And if we know of any who are of their school, let us walk home alone in dogged silence, sooner than lose all our gleanings by their controversies. After a good sermon, go home with your ears and your mouth shut. Act like the miser, who not only gets all he can, but keeps all he can. Do not lose by trifling talk that which may make you rich to all eternity. Then again the gleener takes the wheat home and threshes it. It is a wise thing to thresh a sermon, whoever may have been the preacher, for it is certain that there is a portion of straw and chaff about it. Many thresh the preacher by finding needless fault, but that is not half as good as threshing the sermon to get out of it the pure truth. Take a sermon, beloved, when you get one which is worth having, and lay it down on the floor of meditation, and beat it out with a flail of prayer, and you will get bread-corn from it. This threshing by prayer and meditation must never be neglected. If a gleener should stow away her corn in a room and leave it there, the mice would get at it. But she would have no food from it if she did not thresh out the grain. Some get a sermon and carry it home and allow Satan and sin in the world to eat it all up, and it becomes unfruitful and worthless to them. But he who knows how to flail a sermon well, so as to clear out all the wheat from the straw, he is it that makes a good hearer and feeds his soul on what he hears. And then, in the last place, the good woman, after threshing the corn, no doubt winnowed it. Ruth did all this in the field, but you can scarcely do so. You must do some of the work at home, and observe, she did not take the chaff home. She left that behind her in the field. It is a prudent thing to winnow all the discourses you hear, so as to separate the precious from the vile. But pray, do not fall into the silly habit of taking home all the chaff and leaving the corn behind. I think I hear you say, I shall recollect that queer expression. I shall make an antidote out of that odd remark. Listen then, for I have a word for you. If you hear a man retail nothing about a minister except his oddities, just stop him and say, We have all our faults, and perhaps those who are most ready to speak of those of others are not quite perfect themselves. Can not you tell us what the preacher said that was worth hearing? In many cases, the virtual answer will be, Oh, I don't recollect that. They have sifted the corn, thrown away the good grain, and brought home the chaff. Aught they not to be put in an asylum? Follow the opposite rule, drop the straw, and retain the good corn. Separate between the precious and the vile, and let the worthless material go where it may. You have no use for it, and the sooner you are rid of it, the better. Judge with care. Reject false teaching with decision, and retain true doctrine with earnestness. So shall you practice the enriching art of heavenly gleaning. May the Lord teach us wisdom so that we may become rich to all the intents of bliss. So shall our mouth be satisfied with good things, and our youth shall be renewed like the eagles. And now in the last place, here is a gracious permission given. Let her glean among the sheaves, and reproach her not. Ruth had no right to go among the sheaves, till Boaz gave her permission by saying, let her do it. For her to be allowed to go among the sheaves in that part of the field, where the wheat was newly cut, and none of it carted, was a great favor. But Boaz whispered that handfuls were to be dropped on purpose for her, and that was a greater favor still. Boaz had a secret love for the maiden, and even so, beloved, it is because of our Lord's eternal love to us that He allows us to enter His best fields and glean among the sheaves. His grace permits us to lay hold upon doctrinal blessings, promise blessings, and experience blessings. The Lord has a favor toward us, and hints these singular kindnesses. We have no right to any heavenly blessings of ourselves. Our portion is due to free and sovereign grace. I tell you the reasons that moved Boaz's heart to let Ruth go among the sheaves. The master motive was because He loved her. He would have her go there, because He had conceived an affection for her, which He afterward displayed in grander ways. So the Lord lets His people come and glean among the sheaves, because He loves them. Didst thou have a soul enriching season among the sheaves, the other Sabbath? Didst thou carry home thy sack, filled like those of Joseph's brothers, when they returned from Egypt? Didst thou have an abundance? Wasst thou satisfied? Mark, that was thy master's goodness. It was because He loved thee. Look, I beseech thee on all thy spiritual enjoyments as proof of His eternal love. Look on all heavenly blessings as being tokens of heavenly grace. It will make thy corn grind all the better and eat all the sweeter. If thou wilt reflect that eternal love gave it thee, thy sweet seasons, thy high enjoyments, thy unspeakable ravishments of spirit are all proofs of divine affection. Therefore be doubly glad of them. There was another reason why Boaz allows Ruth to glean among the sheaves. It was because He was her relative. This is why our Lord gives us choice favors at times and takes us into His banqueting house in so gracious a manner. He is our next of kin, bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh. Our redeemer, our kinsman, is the Lord Jesus, and He will never be strange to His own flesh. It is a high and charming mystery that our Lord Jesus is the husband of His church, and sure He may well let His spouse glean among the sheaves, for all that He possesses is hers already. Her interests and His interests are one, and so He may well say, Beloved, take all thou pleasest. I am none the poorer because thou dost partake of my fullness, for thou art mine, thou art my partner and my choice, and all that I have is thine. What then shall I say to you who are my Lord's beloved? How shall I speak with a tenderness and generosity equal to His desires? For He would have me speak right, lovingly in His name. Enrich yourselves out of that which is your Lord's. Go, a spiritual gleaning as often as ever you can. Never lose an opportunity of picking up a golden blessing. Glean at the mercy seat. Glean in private meditation. Glean in reading pious books. Glean in associating with godly men. Glean everywhere. And if you can get only a little handful, it will be better than none. You who are so much in business and so much pinned up by cares, if you can only spend five minutes in the Lord's field gleaning a little, be sure to do so. If you cannot bear away a sheaf, carry an ear. And if you cannot find an ear, pick up even a grain of wheat. Take care to get a little. If you cannot get much, but gather as much as ever you can. Just one other remark, oh child of God, never be afraid to glean. Have faith in God and take the promises home to yourself. Jesus will rejoice to see you making free with his good things. His voice is, eat abundantly, drink, yay, drink abundantly, oh beloved. Therefore, if you find a rich promise, live upon it. Draw the honey out of the comb of Scripture and live on its sweetness. If you meet with a most extraordinary sheaf, carry it away rejoicing. You cannot believe too much concerning your Lord. Let not Satan cheat you into contentment with a meager portion of grace when all the granaries of heaven are open to you. Glean on with humble industry and hopeful confidence. And know that he who owns both fields and sheaves is looking upon you with eyes of love. And will one day espouse you to himself in glory everlasting. Happy gleaner who finds eternal love and eternal life in the fields in which he gleans. End of Chapter 15 Spiritual Gleaning Chapter 16 of Talks to Farmers This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lauren Randall Talks to Farmers by Charles H. Spurgeon Mealtime in the Cornfields And Boaz said unto her, At mealtime come thou hither and eat of the bread and dip thy morsel in the vinegar. And she sat beside the reapers, and he reached her parched corn, and she did eat, and was sufficed, and left. Ruth Chapter 2, Verse 14 We are going to the cornfields, not so much to glean as to rest with the reapers and gleaners, when under some wide-spreading oak they sit down to take refreshment. We hope some Tim McGleaner will accept our invitation to come and eat with us, and will have confidence enough to dip her morsel in the vinegar. May all of us have courage to feast to the full on our own account, and kindness enough to carry home a portion to our needy friends at home. Our first point of remark is this, that God's reapers have their mealtimes. Those who work for God will find him a good master. He cares for oxen, and he has commanded Israel. Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn. Much more doth he care for his servants who serve him. He hath given meat unto them that fear him. He will ever be mindful of his covenant. The reapers in Jesus's field shall not only receive a blessed reward at the last, but they shall have plentious comforts, by the way. He is pleased to pay his servants twice, first in the labor itself, and a second time in the labor's sweet results. He gives them such joy and consolation in the service of their master, that it is a sweet employ, and they cry, We delight to do thy will, O Lord. Heaven is made up of serving God day and night, and a foretaste of heaven is enjoyed in serving God on earth with earnest perseverance. God has ordained certain mealtimes for his reapers, and he has appointed that one of these shall be when they come together to listen to the word preached. If God be with ministers, they act as the disciples did of old, for they received the loaves and the fishes from the Lord Jesus, and then they handed them to the people. We of ourselves cannot feed one soul much less thousands, but when the Lord is with us, we can keep as good a table as Solomon himself, with all his fine flour and fat oxen and robux and fallow deer. When the Lord blesses the provisions of his house, no matter how many thousands there may be, all his poor shall be filled with bread. I hope, beloved, you know what it is to sit under the shadow of the word with great delight, and find the fruit thereof sweet unto your taste, where the doctrines of grace are boldly and plainly delivered to you in connection with the other truths of revelation, where Jesus Christ upon his cross is always lifted up, where the work of the Spirit is not forgotten, where the glorious purpose of the Father is never despised, there is sure to be rich provision for the children of God. Often, too, our gracious Lord appoints us meal times in our private readings and meditations. Here it is that his paths drop fatness. Nothing can be more fattening to the soul of the believer than feeding upon the word, and digesting it by frequent meditation. No wonder that men grow so slowly when they meditate so little. Cattle must chew the cud. It is not that which they crop with their teeth, but that which is masticated and digested by rumination that nourishes them. We must take the truth and turn it over and over again in the inward parts of our spirit, and so shall we extract suitable nourishment therefrom. My brethren, is not meditation the land of Goshen to you? If men once said, There is corn in Egypt. May they not always say that the finest of the wheat is to be found in secret prayer? Private devotion is a land which floweth with milk and honey, a paradise yielding all manner of fruits, a banqueting house of choice wines. A hazardous might make a great feast, but all his hundred and twenty provinces could not furnish such dainties as meditation offers to the spiritual mind. Where can we feed and lie down in green pastures in so sweet a sense as we do in our musings on the word? Meditation distills the quintessence of joy from the scriptures, and gladdens our mouth with a sweetness which excels the virgin honey. Your retired periods and occasions of prayer should be to you refreshing seasons, in which, like the reapers at Noonday, you sit with the master and enjoy his generous provisions. The shepherd of Salisbury Plain was wont to say that when he was lonely and his wallet was empty, his Bible was to him meat and drink, and company too. He is not the only man who has found a fullness in the word when all else has been empty. During the battle of Waterloo, a godly soldier, mortally wounded, was carried by his comrade into the rear, and being placed with his back propped up against a tree, he besought his friend to open his knapsack and take out the Bible which he had carried in it. Read to me, he said, one verse before I close my eyes in death. His comrade read him that verse, Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. Not as the world giveth, give I unto you. And there, fresh from the whistling of the bullets and the roll of the drum, and the tempest of human conflict, that believing spirit enjoyed such holy calm that ere he fell asleep in the arms of Jesus, he said, Yes, I have a peace with God which passeth all understanding, which keeps my heart and mind through Jesus Christ. Saints most surely enjoy delightful mealtimes when they are alone in meditation. Let us not forget that there is one specially ordained mealtime which ought to occur at least once in the week. I mean the supper of the Lord. There you have literally as well as spiritually a meal. The table is richly spread. It has upon it both bread and wine. And looking at what these symbolize, we have before us a table, richer than that which kings could furnish. There we have the flesh and the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. Whereof, if a man eat, he shall never hunger and never thirst. For that bread shall be unto him everlasting life. Oh, the sweet seasons we have known of the Lord's supper. If some of you knew the enjoyment of feeding upon Christ in that ordinance, you would chide yourselves for not having united with the church and fellowship. In keeping the master's commandments, there is great reward, and consequently in neglecting them, there is great loss of reward. Christ is not so tied to the sacramental table as to be always found of those who partake there at. But still it is in the way that we may expect the Lord to meet with us. If you love me, keep my commandments, is a sentence of touching power. Sitting at this table, our soul has mounted up from the emblem to the reality. We have eaten bread in the kingdom of God, and have leaned our head upon Jesus' bosom. He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love. Besides these regular mealtimes, there are others which God gives us. At seasons when, perhaps we little expect them. You have been walking the street, and suddenly you have felt a holy flowing out of your soul toward God. Or in the middle of business, your heart has been melted with love and made to dance for joy, even as the brooks which have been bound with winter's ice leap to fill the touch of spring. You have been groaning, dull and earthbound, but the sweet love of Jesus has unwrapped your heart when you scarce thought of it, and your spirit, all free, and all on fire, has rejoiced before the Lord with timbrel and dance, like Miriam of old. I have had times occasionally in preaching, when I would feign have kept on far beyond the appointed hour, for my overflowing soul has been like a vessel wanting vent. Seasons, too, we have had on our sick beds, when we would have been content to be sick always, if we could have had our beds so well made by tender love, and our heads so softly pillowed on condescending grace. Our blessed Redeemer comes to us in the morning, and wakes us up by dropping sweet thoughts upon our souls. We know not how they came, but it is as if, when the dew was visiting the flowers, a few drops had taken pity upon us, in the cool, even tide, too. As we have gone to our bed, our meditation of him has been sweet, and in the night watches, when we tossed to and fro, and could not sleep, he has been pleased to become our song in the night. God's reapers find it hard work to reap, but they gain a blessed solace, when in one way or another, they sit down and eat of their master's rich provisions. Then, with renewed strength, they rise with sharpened sickle, to reap again in the noontide heat. Let me observe that, while these mealtimes come, we know not exactly when. There are certain seasons when we may expect them. The eastern reapers generally sit down under the shelter of a tree, or a booth, to take refreshment during the heat of the day. And certain I am, that when trouble, affliction, persecution, and bereavement become the most painful to us, it is then that the Lord hands out to us the sweetest comforts. We must work till the hot sun forces the sweat from our faces, and then we may look for repose. We must bear the burden and heat of the day, before we can expect to be invited to those choice meals, which the Lord prepares for true laborers. When thy day of trouble is hottest, then the love of Jesus shall be sweetest. Again, these mealtimes frequently occur before a trial. Elijah must be entertained beneath a juniper tree, for he is to go a forty days journey in the strength of that meat. You may suspect some danger nigh when your delights are overflowing. If you see a ship taking in great quantities of provision, it is probably bound for a distant port. And when God gives you extraordinary seasons of communion with Jesus, you may look for long leagues of tempestuous sea. Sweet cordials prepare for stern conflicts. Times of refreshing also occur after trouble or arduous service. Christ was tempted of the devil, and afterwards angels came and ministered unto him. Jacob wrestled with God, and afterwards at Mahanaim, hosts of angels met him. Abraham fought with the kings, and returned from their slaughter. And then it was that Melchizedek refreshed him with bread and wine. After conflict, content. After battle, banquet. When thou hast waited on thy Lord, then thou shalt sit down, and thy master will gird himself and wait upon thee. Let worldlings say what they will about the hardness of religion. We do not find it so. We own that reaping for Christ has its difficulties and troubles, but still the bread which we eat is of heavenly sweetness, and the wine which we drink is crushed from celestial clusters. I would not change my blessed estate for all the world calls good or great. And while my faith can keep her hold, I envy not the sinner's gold. Follow me while we turn to a second point. To these meals the gleener is affectionately invited. That is to say the poor, trembling stranger, who is not strength enough to reap, who has no right to be in the field except the right of charity. The poor, trembling sinner, conscious of his own demerit and feeling but little hope and little joy is invited to the feast of love. In the text the gleener is invited to come. At mealtime come thou hither. We trust none of you will be kept away from the place of holy feasting by any shame on account of your dress or your personal character or your poverty, nay, nor even on account of your physical infirmities. At mealtime come thou hither. I knew a deaf woman who could never hear a sound, and yet she was always in the house of God. And when asked why, her reply was that a friend found her the text, and then God was pleased to give her many a sweet thought upon it while she sat with his people. Besides, she felt that as a believer she ought to honor God by her presence in his courts and by confessing her union with his people. And better still, she always liked to be in the best of company, and as the presence of God was there and the holy angels in the saints of the most high, whether she could hear or know, she would go. If such persons find pleasure in coming, we who can hear should never stay away. Though we feel our unworthiness, we ought to be desirous to be laid in the house of God, as the sick were at the pool of Bethesda, hoping that the waters may be stirred, and that we may step in and be healed. Trumbling soul, never let the temptations of the devil keep thee from the assembly of worshipers. At mealtime come thou hither. Moreover, she was bid not only to come, but to eat. Whatever there is sweet and comfortable in the word of God, ye that are of a broken and contrite spirit are invited to partake of it. Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, sinners such as you are. In due time Christ died for the ungodly, such ungodly ones as you feel yourselves to be. You desire to be Christ. You may be Christ. You are saying in your heart, oh, that I could eat the children's bread. You may eat it. You say, I have no right. But the Lord gives you the invitation. Come without any other right than the right of his invitation. Let not conscience make you linger, nor of fitness fondly dream. But since he bids you come, take him at his word, and if there be a promise, believe it. If there be an encouraging word, accept it, and let the sweetness of it be yours. Note further, that she was not only invited to eat the bread, but to dip her morsel in the vinegar. We must not look upon this as being some sour stuff. No doubt there are crab souls in the church who always dip their morsel in the sourest imaginable vinegar, and with a grim liberality invite others to share their misery with them. But the vinegar in my text is altogether another thing. This was either a compound of various juices expressed from fruits, or else it was that weak kind of wine mingled with water which is still commonly used in the harvest fields of Italy and the warmer parts of the world. A drink not exceedingly strong, but good enough to impart a relish to the food. It was to use the only word which will give the meaning, a sauce, which the orientals used with their bread, as we use butter, or as they on other occasions used oil. So in the harvest field, believing it to have cooling properties, they used what is here called vinegar. Beloved, the Lord's reapers have sauce with their bread. They have not merely doctrines, but the whole unction which is the essence of doctrines. They have not merely truths, but a hallowed delight accompanies the truths. Take for instance the doctrine of election, which is like the bread. There is a sauce to dip it in. When I can say, he loved me before the foundations of the world, the personal enjoyment of my interest in the truth becomes a sauce into which I dip my morsel. And you, poor gleener, are invited to dip your morsel in it too. I used to hear people seeing the hymn of Top Ladies which begins, a debtor to mercy alone of covenant mercy I sing, nor fear would I righteousness on my person in offering to bring. The hymn rises to its climax in the lines, Yes, I to the end shall endure, as sure as the earnest is given, more happy but not more secure, the glorified spirits in heaven. I used to think I should never be able to sing that hymn. It was the sauce, you know. I might manage to eat some of the plain bread, but I could not dip it in that sauce. It was too high doctrine, too sweet, too consoling. But I thank God I have since ventured to dip my morsel in it, and now I hardly like my bread without it. I would have every trembling center per take of the comfortable parts of God's word, even those which cavaliers call high doctrine. Let him believe the simpler truth first, and then dip it in the sweet doctrine and be happy in the Lord. I think I see the gleener half prepared to come, for she is very hungry, and she has nothing with her. But she begins to say, I have no right to come, for I am not a reaper. I do nothing for Christ. I am only a selfish gleener. I am not a reaper. Ah, but thou art invited to come. Make no questions about it. Boaz bids thee, take thou his invitation, and approach at once. But, you say, I am such a poor gleener. Though my labor is all for myself, yet it is little I win by it. I get a few thoughts while the sermon is being preached, but I lose them before I reach home. I know you do, poor weak-handed woman, but still Jesus invites thee, come, take thou the sweet promise as he presents it to thee, and let no bashfulness of thine send thee home hungry. But, you say, I am a stranger. You do not know my sins, my sinfulness, and the waywardness of my heart. But Jesus does, and yet he invites you. He knows you are but a Moabitis, a stranger from the commonwealth of Israel. But he bids you come, is not that enough? But, you say, I owe so much to him already. It is so good of him to spare my forfeited life, and so tender of him to let me hear the gospel preached at all. I cannot have the presumption to be an intruder and sit with the reapers. Oh, but he bids you. There is more presumption in your doubting than there could be in your believing. He bids you. Will you refuse Boaz? Shall Jesus' lips give the invitation, and you say him nay? Come now, come. Remember that the little which Ruth could eat did not make Boaz any the poorer, and all that thou wantest will make Christ none the less glorious or full of grace. Are thy necessities large? His supplies are larger. Does thou require great mercy? He is a great saviour. I tell thee that his mercy is no more to be exhausted, than the sea is to be drained. Come at once. There is enough for thee, and Boaz will not be impoverished by thy feasting to the full. Moreover, let me tell thee a secret. Jesus loves thee. Therefore is it that he would have the feed at his table. If thou art now a longing, trembling sinner, willing to be saved, but conscious that thou deservedest it not, Jesus loves thee, and he will take more delight in seeing thee eat than thou wilt take in the eating. Let the sweet love he fills in his soul towards thee draw thee to him. And what is more, but this is a great secret and must only be whispered in your ear. He intends to be married to you, and when you are married to him, why, the fields will be yours. For of course, if you are his spouse, you are joint proprietor with him. Is it not so? Doth not the wife share with the husband? All those promises which are yea and amen in Christ shall be yours. Nay, they all are yours now. For the man is next of kin unto you, and ere long he will take you unto himself forever, expousing you in faithfulness and truth and righteousness. Will you not eat of your own? Oh, but, says one, how can it be? I am a stranger. Yes, a stranger, but Jesus Christ loves the stranger. A publican, a sinner, but he is the friend of publicans and sinners, an outcast, but he gathereth together the outcasts of Israel. A stray sheep, but the shepherd leaves the ninety and nine to seek it. A lost piece of money, but he sweeps the house to find thee. A prodigal son, but he sets the bells ringing when he knows that thou wilt return. Come, Ruth, come, trembling gleener. Jesus invites thee, accept the invitation. At mealtime come thou hither and eat of the bread and dip thy morsel in the vinegar. Now, thirdly, and here is a very sweet point in the narrative, Boaz reached her the parched corn. She did come and eat. Where did she sit? Note well that she sat beside the reapers. She did not feel that she was one of them, just like some of you who do not come to the Lord's Supper, but sit and look on. You are sitting beside the reapers. You fear that you are not the people of God, still you love them, and therefore sit beside them. If there is a good thing to be had, and you cannot get it, you will sit as near as you can to those who do get it. She sat beside the reapers. And while she was sitting there, what happened? Did she stretch forth her hand and take the food herself? No, it is written, he reached her the parched corn. Ah, that is it. None but the Lord of the Harvest can hand out the choices refreshments of spiritual minds. I give the invitation in my master's name, and I hope I give it earnestly, affectionately, sincerely. But I know very well that at my poor bidding, none will come to the spirit draws. No trembling heart will accept divine refreshing at my hand, unless the king himself comes near and reaches the parched corn to each chosen guest. None will receive it. How does he do this? By his gracious spirit, he first of all inspires your faith. You are afraid to think that it can be true that such a sinner as you are can ever be accepted in the beloved. He breathes upon you, and your faint hope becomes an expectancy. And that expectation buds and blossoms into an appropriating faith, which says, yes, my beloved is mine and his desire is toward me. Having done this, the Savior does more. He sheds abroad the love of God in your heart. The love of Christ is like sweet perfume in a box. Now, he who put the perfume in the box is the only person that knows how to take off the lid. He with his own skillful hand opens the secret blessing and sheds abroad the love of God in the soul. But Jesus does more than this. He reaches the parched corn with his own hand when he gives us close communion with himself. Do not think that this is a dream. I tell you there is such a thing as speaking with Christ today, as certainly as I can talk with my dearest friend or find solace in the company of my beloved wife. So surely may I speak with Jesus and find intense delight in the company of Emmanuel. It is not a fiction. We do not worship a far-off Savior. He is a God nigh at hand. His word is in our mouth and in our heart. And we do today walk with him as the elect did of old and commune with him as his apostles did on earth. Not after the flesh. It is true, but after a real and spiritual fashion. Yet once more, let me add, the Lord Jesus is pleased to reach the parched corn in the best sense when the Spirit gives us the infallible witness within that we are born of God. A man may know that he is a Christian beyond all question. Philip Demorne who lived in the time of Prince Henry of Navarre was wont to say that the Holy Spirit had made his own salvation to him as clear a point as a problem demonstrated in Euclid. You know with what mathematical precision the scholar of geometry solves a problem or proves a proposition. And with as absolute a precision as certainly as twice two or four, we may know that we have passed from death unto life. The Son in the heavens is not more clear to the eye than his present salvation to an assured believer. Such a man could assume doubt his own existence as suspect his possession of eternal life. Now let the prayer be breathed by poor Ruth who is trembling yonder. Lord, reach me the parched corn. Show me a token for good. Deal bountifully with thy servant. Draw me. We will run after thee. Lord, send thy love into my heart. Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly dove, with all thy quickening powers. Come, shut abroad a Savior's love and that shall kindle ours. There is no getting at Christ except by Christ revealing himself to us. And now the last point. After Boaz had reached the parched corn, we are told that she did eat and was sufficed and left. So shall it be with every Ruth. Sooner or later every penitent shall become a believer, every mourner a singer. There may be a space of deep conviction and a period of much hesitation, but there shall come a season when the soul decides for the Lord and cries. If I perish, I perish. I will go as I am to Jesus. I will not play the fool any longer with my buts and ifs. But since he bids me believe that he died for me, I will believe it and will trust his cross for my salvation. Whenever you shall be privileged to do this, you shall be satisfied. She did eat and was sufficed. Your head shall be satisfied with the precious truth which Christ reveals. Your heart shall be content with Jesus as the altogether lovely object of affection. Your hope shall be filled for whom have you in heaven but Christ. Your desire shall be satiated for what can even your desire hunger for more than to know Christ and to be found in him. You shall find Jesus charm your conscience till it is that perfect peace. He shall content your judgment till you know the certainty of his teachings. He shall supply your memory with recollections of what he did and gratify your imagination with the prospects of what he is yet to do. She was sufficed and left. Some of us have had deep drafts of love. We have thought that we could take in all of Christ, but when we have done our best we have had to leave a vast remainder. We have sat down with a ravenous appetite at the table of the Lord's love and said, Nothing but the infinite can ever satisfy me, and that infinite has been granted us. I have felt that I am such a great sinner that nothing short of an infinite atonement could wash my sins away, and no doubt you have felt the same. But we have had our sin removed and found merit enough and to spare in Jesus. We have had our hunger relieved and found a redundance remaining for others who are in a similar case. There are certain sweet things in the Word of God which you and I have not enjoyed yet and which we cannot enjoy yet. In these we are obliged to leave for a while till we are better prepared to receive them. Did not our Lord say, I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. There is a special knowledge to which we have not attained, a place of intimate fellowship with Christ which we have not yet occupied. There are heights of communion which as yet our feet have not climbed. Virgin snows of the mountain of God untrodden by the foot of man. There is yet a beyond and there will be forever. A verse or two further on we are told what Ruth did with her leavings. It is very wrong, I believe, at feasts to carry anything home with you. But she was not under any such regulation. For that which was left she took home and gave to Naomi. So it shall be even with you, poor tremblers, who think you have no right to a morsel for yourselves. You shall be allowed to eat. And when you are quite sufficed, you shall have courage to bear away a portion to others who are hungering at home. I am always pleased to find the young believer beginning to pocket something for others. When you hear a sermon you think my poor mother cannot get out today, how I wish she could have been here. For that sentence would have comforted her. If I forget everything else I will tell her that. Cultivate an unselfish spirit. Seek to love as you have been loved. Remember that the law and the prophets are fulfilled in this. To love the Lord your God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself. How can you love your neighbor as yourself if you do not love his soul? You have loved your own soul through grace you have been led to lay hold on Jesus. Love your neighbor's soul and never be satisfied till you see him in the enjoyment of those things which are the charm of your life and the joy of our spirit. Take home your gleaning for those you love who cannot glean for themselves. I do not know how to give you an invitation to Christ more pleasantly. But I would with my whole heart cry come and welcome to Jesus. I pray my Lord and Master to reach a handful of parched corn of comfort to you if you are a trembling sinner and I also beg him to make you eat till you are fully sufficed. End of Chapter 16 Mealtime in the Cornfields Chapter 17 of Talks to Farmers This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lauren Randall Talks to Farmers by Charles H. Spurgeon The Loaded Wagon Behold, I am pressed under you as a cart is pressed that is full of sheaves. Amos Chapter 2, Verse 13 We have been into the cornfields to glean with Boaz and Ruth, and I trust that the timid and faint hearted have been encouraged to partake of the handfuls which are let fall on purpose for them by the order of our generous Lord. We go today to the gate of the harvest field with another object. To see the wagon piled up a loft with many sheaves come creaking forth making ruts along the field. We come with gratitude to God thanking him for the harvest, blessing him for favorable weather, and praying him to continue the same to the last shock of corn shall be brought in, and the husbandmen everywhere shall shout the harvest home. What a picture is a wagon loaded with corn of you and of me as loaded with God's mercies. From our cradle up till now every day has added a sheaf of blessing. What could the Lord do for us more than he has done? He has daily loaded us with benefits. Let us adore his goodness and yield him our cheerful gratitude. Alas, that such a sign should be capable of another reading Alas, that while God loadeth us with mercy we should load him with sin. While he continually heapeth on sheaf after sheaf a favor we also add iniquity unto iniquity till the weight of our sin becomes intolerable to the most high and he cries out by reason of the burden saying I am pressed under you as a cart is pressed that is full of sheaves. Our text begins with a behold and while it may, beholds are put in the Bible as signs are hung out from houses of business to attract attention. There is something new important deeply impressive or worthy of attention wherever we see a behold in sacred scripture. I see this behold standing as it were like a maiden upon the steps of the house of wisdom crying turn in hither oh ye that are wise hearted and listen to the voice of God. Let us open our eyes that we may behold and may the spirit make a way through our eyes and ears to our hearts that repentance and self-abhorrence may take hold upon us because of our evil conduct towards our gracious God. It is to be understood before we proceed farther that our text is only a figure since God cannot actually be oppressed by man all the sin that man may commit can never disturb the serenity of the divine perfection nor cause so much as a wave upon his everlasting calm. He doth but speak to us after the manner of man and bring down the sublimities and mysteries of heaven to the feebleness and ignorance of earth. He speaketh to us as a great father may talk to his little child just as a cart has the axels bent and as the wheels creak under the excessive load so the Lord says that under the load of human guilt he is pressed down until he cryeth out because he can bear no longer the iniquity of those that offend against him. We shall now turn to our first point. May the Holy Ghost make it pointed to our consciences. The first and most apparent truth in the text is that sin is very grievous and burdensome to God. Be astonished, O heavens, and be amazed, O earth, that God should speak of being pressed and weighed down. I do not read anywhere so much as half a suggestion that the whole burden of creation is any weight to the most high. He taketh up the aisles as a very little thing. Neither sun nor moon nor stars nor all the ponderous orbs which his omnipotence has created cost him any labor in their sustenance. The heathen picture atlas as stooping beneath the globe but the eternal God who bareth up the pillars of the universe, fainteth not, neither is weary. Nor do I find even the most distant approach to a suggestion that providence fatigues its Lord. He watches both by night and day. His power goeth forth every moment. Tis he who bringeth forth Masaroth in his season and guideeth Arcturus with his sons. He bareth up the foundations of the earth and holdeth the cornerstone thereof. He causeth the dayspring to know its place and seteth abound to darkness in the shadow of death. All things are supported by the power of his hand and there is nothing without him just as a moment's foam subsides into the wave that bears it and is lost forever. So would the universe depart if the eternal God did not daily sustain it. This incessant working has not diminished his strength nor is there any failing or thought of failing with him. He worketh all things and when they are wrought they are as nothing in his sight. But strange, most passing, strange miraculous among miracles sin burdens God. Though the world cannot and iniquity presses the most high though the whole weight of providence is as the small dust of the balance. Ah ye careless sons of Adam ye think sin a trifle? And as for you ye sons of Belial ye count its sport and say He regardeth not, he seeeth not, how doth God know? And if he knoweth he careth not for our sins. Learn ye from the Book of God that so far from this being the truth your sins are a grief to him, a burden and a load to him, till like a cart that is overloaded with sheaves so is he weighed down with human guilt. This will be very clear if we meditate for a moment upon what sin is and what sin does. Sin is the great spoiler of all God's works. Sin turned an archangel into an archfiend and angels of light into spirits of evil. Sin looked on Eden and withered all its flowers. ere sin had come the creator said of the new made earth it is very good. But when sin had entered it grieved God at his very heart that he had made such a creature as man. Nothing tarnishes beauty so much as sin for it marrs God's image and erases his superscription. Moreover sin makes God's creatures unhappy and shall not the Lord therefore abhor it. God never designed that any creature of his hand should be miserable. He made the creatures on purpose that they should be glad. He gave the birds their song the flowers their perfume the air its balm. He gave today the smiling sun and tonight is coronet of stars for he intended that smiles should be his perpetual worship and joy the incense of his praise. But sin has made God's favorite creature a wretch and brought down God's offspring made in his own image to become naked and poor and miserable. And therefore God hated sin and is pressed down under it because it maketh the objects of his love unhappy at their heart. Moreover remember that sin attacks God in all his attributes assails him on his throne and stabs at his existence. What is sin? Is it not an insult to God's wisdom? Oh sinner, God bideth thee do his will. When thou doest the contrary it is because thou dost as much as say I know what is good for me and God does not know. You do in effect declare that infinite wisdom is an error and that you the creature of a day are the best judge of happiness. Sin impunes God's goodness for by sin you declare that God has denied you that which would make you happy and this is not the part of a good tender and loving Father. Sin cuts at the Lord's wisdom with one hand and at his goodness with the other. Sin also abuses the mercy of God. When you as many of you have done sin with a higher hand because of his long suffering toward you when because you have no sickness no losses no crosses therefore you spend your time in revelry and obstinate rebellion. What is this but taking the mercy which was meant for your good and turning it into mischief? It is no small grief to the loving Father to see his substance spent with harlots and riotous living. He cannot endure it that his child should be so degraded as to turn even the mercy which would woo him to repentance into a reason why he should sin the more against him. Besides let me remind the careless and impenitent that every sin is a defiance of divine power. In effect it is lifting your puny fists against the majesty of heaven and defying God to destroy you. Every time you sin you defy the Lord to prove whether he can maintain his law or no. Is this a slight thing that a worm the creature of a day should defy the Lord of ages the God that filleth and upholdeth all things by the word of his power? Well may he be weary when he has to bear with such provocations and insults as those. Mention what attribute you will and sin has blotted it. Speak of God in any relationship you choose and sin has cast a slur upon him. It is evil only evil and that continually in every view of it must be offensive to the most high. Sinner, dost thou know that every act of disobedience to God's law is virtually an act of high treason? What dost thou do but seek to be God thyself thine own master thine own Lord? Every time thou swervest from his will it is to put thy will into his place. It is to make thyself a God and to undiefy the most high. And is this a little offense to snatch from his brow the crown and from his hand the scepter? I tell thee it is such an act that heaven itself could not stand unless it were resented. If this crime were suffered to go unpunished the wheels of heaven's commonwealth will be taken from their axels and the whole frame of moral government would be unhinged. Such a treason against God shall certainly be visited with punishment. To crown all sin is an onslaught upon God himself. For sin is atheism of heart. Let his religious profession be what it may the sinner hath said in his heart no God. He wishes that there were no law and no supreme ruler. Is this a trifle to be a deicide? To desire to put God out of his own world? Is this a thing to be winked at? Can the most high hear it and not be pressed down beneath its weight? I pray you do not think that I would make a needless outcry against sin and disobedience. It is not in the power of human imagination to exaggerate the evil of sin nor will it ever be possible for mortal lips though they should be touched like those of Isaiah with a live coal from off the altar to thunder out the ten thousandth part of the enormity of the least sin against God. Think dear friends we are his creatures and yet we will not do his will. We are fed by him the breath in our nostrils he gives us and yet we spend that breath in murmuring and rebellion. Once more we are always in the sight of our omniscient God and yet the presence of God is not enough to compel us to obedience. Surely if a man should insult law in the very presence of the law giver that were not to be born with. But this is your case and mine. We must confess against the the only have I sinned and done this evil in thy sight. We must remember also that we offend knowing that we are offending. We do not sin as the hot and taut or the cannibal. We in England sin against extraordinary light and seven fold knowledge. And is this a light thing? Can you expect that God shall pass by willful and deliberate offenses? Oh that these lips had language that this heart could burn for once. For if I could declare the horrible infamy of sin it would make the blood chill and even a haughty Pharaoh's veins and proud Nebuchadnezzar would bow his head in fear. It is indeed a terrible thing to have rebelled against the most high. The Lord have mercy upon his servants and forgive them. This is our first point but I cannot teach you it. God himself must teach it by his spirit. Oh that the Holy Ghost may make you feel that sin is exceedingly sinful so that it is grievous and burdensome to God. Secondly some sins are more especially grievous to God. The connection of our texts will help you to see the force of this observation. There is no such thing as a little sin but still there are degrees of guilt and if it were folly to say that a sinful thought hath in it the same extent of evil as a sinful act. A filthy imagination is sinful holy sinful and greatly sinful but still a filthy act has attained a higher degree of provocation. There are sins which especially provoke God. In the connection of the texts we read that licentiousness does this. The Jewish people in the days of Amos seem to have gone to a very high degree of fornication and lettery. This sin is not uncommon in our day. Let our midnight streets and our divorced courts be the witness. I say no more. Let each one keep his body pure for want of chastity is a grievous evil before the Lord. Oppression too according to the Prophet is another great provocation to God. The Prophet speaks of selling the poor for a pair of shoes and some would grind the widow in the orphan and make the laborer toil for not. How many businessmen have no bowels of compassion. Men form themselves into societies and then exact an outrageous usury upon loans from the unhappy beings who fall into their hands. Cunning legal quibbles and crafty evasions of just debts often amount to heavy oppression and are sure to bring down the anger of the most high. Then again it seems that idolatry and blasphemy are highly offensive to God and have a high degree of heinousness. He says that the people drank the wine of false gods. If any man sets up his belly or his gold or his wealth as his God and if he lives to these instead of living to the most high he has offended by idolatry. Woe to such and equal woe to those who adore crosses sacraments or images. Especially is blasphemy a God provoking sin. For blasphemy there is no excuse. As George Herbert says lust and wine plead a pleasure. There is gain to be pleaded for avarice but the cheap swearer from his open sluice lets his soul run for naught. There is nothing gained by profane talk. There can be no pleasure in cursing. This is offending for offending sake and hence it is a high in crying sin which makes the Lord grow weary of men. There may be some among you to whom these words may be personal accusations. Do I address the letrus or the oppressive or the profane? Ah, soul what a mercy God hath born with these so long. The time will come however when he will say ah I will ease me of mine adversaries and how easily will he cast you off and appoint you in awful destruction. Again while some sins are thus grievous to God for their peculiar heinousness many men are especially obnoxious to God because of the length of their sin. That gray-headed man how many times has he provoked the most high? Why those who are but lads have caused to count their years and apply their hearts into wisdom because of the length of time they have lived in rebellion. But what shall I say of you who have been half a century in open war against God? And some of you sixty seventy what if I said near upon eighty years? Ah you have had eighty years of mercies and returned eighty years of neglect. For eighty years of patience you have rendered eighty years of ingratitude. Oh God well may as thou be wearied by the length and number of man's sins. Furthermore God taketh special note and filleth in a special weariness of sin that is mixed with obstinacy. Oh how obstinance some men are. They will be damned. There is no helping them. They seem as if they would leap the Alps to reach perdition and swim through seas of fire that they may destroy their souls. I might tell you cases of men that have been sore sick of fever ague and cholera and they have only recovered their health to return to their sins. Some of them have had troubles in business thick and threefold. They were once in respectable circumstances but they spent their living riotously and they became poor. Yet they still struggle on in sin. They are growing poorer every day. Most of their clothes have gone to the pawn shop but they will not turn from the tavern and the brothel. Another child is dead. The wife is sick and starvation stares the family in the face but they go on still with a high hand and an outstretched arm. This is obstinacy indeed. Sinner God will let thee have thine own way one of these days and that way will be thine ever lasting ruin. God is weary of those who set themselves to do mischief and against warnings and invitations and in treaties are determined to go on in sin. The context seems to tell us that ingratitude is intensely burdensome to God. He tells the people how he brought them out of Egypt, how he cast out the Amorites, how he raised up their sons for prophets and their young men for Nazarites and yet they rebelled against him. This was one of the things that pricked my heart when I first came to God as a guilty sinner, not so much the peculiar heinousness of my outward life as the peculiar mercies that I had enjoyed. How generous God has been to some of us, some of us who never had a want. God has never cast us into poverty nor left us to infamy nor given us up to evil example, but he has kept us moral and made us love his house even when we did not love him. And all this he has done year after year and what poor returns we have made to us his people, what joy he has given, what deliverances, what love, what comfort, what bliss, and yet we have sinned to his face. Well may he be as his cart that is pressed down, that is full of sheaves. Let me observe before I leave this point that it seems from our text that the Lord is so pressed that he even cryeth out just as the cart when laden with the sheaves groaneth under the weight. So the Lord cryeth out under the load of sin. Have you never heard those accents? Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord hath spoken, I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me. Here again, turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways, for why will ye die, O house of Israel? Better still, hear the lament from the lip of Jesus, soft and gentle as the dew. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets and stonest them which are sent unto thee. How often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings? And ye would not. Sinner, God is cut to the heart by thy sin. Thy Creator greaves over that which thou laughest at. Thy Savior cryeth out in his spirit concerning that which thou thinkest to be a trifle. O do not this abdominable thing which I hate, for God's sake do it not. We often say for God's sake without knowing what we mean. But here see what it means for the sake of God that ye grieve not your Creator that ye calls not the Eternal One Himself to cry out by reason of weariness of you. Cease ye, cease ye from your evil ways for why will ye die O house of Israel? I now leave those two points to pass on very briefly to the next. While it is true that sin is grievous to the Lord, it magnifies his mercy when we see that he bears the load. As the cart is not said to break but is pressed only, so is he pressed, and yet he bears. If you and I were in God's place, should we have borne it? Nay! Within a week we should have burned the universe with fire or troddened it to powder beneath our feet. If the law of heaven were as swift to punish as the law of man, where were we? How easily could he avenge his honor? How many servants wait around him ready to do his bidding? As the Roman consul went out, attended by his lictors carrying the acts so God is ever attended by his executioners who are ready to fulfill his sentence, a stone, a tile from a roof, a thunderbolt, a puff of wind, a grain of dust, a whiff of gas, a broken blood vessel, and all is over, and you are dead, and in the hands of an angry God, indeed the Lord has to restrain the servants of his anger for the heavens cry. Why should we cover that wretch's head? Earth asks, why should I yield it harvest to the sinner's plow, the lightning's thunder and say, let us smite the rubble, and the seas roar upon the sinner desiring him as their prey. There is no greater proof of the omnipotence of God than his long suffering, for it shows the greatest possible power for God to be able to control himself. Sinner, yet Jehovah bears with thee. The angels have been astonished at it. They thought he would strike, but yet he bears with you. Have you ever seen a patient man insulted? He has been met in the street by a villain who insults him before a mob of boys. He bears it. The fellow spits in his face. He bears it still. The offender strikes him. He endures it quietly. Give him in charge, says one. No, says he. I forgive him all. The fellow knocks him down and rolls him in the kennel, but he bears it still. Yes, and when he rises all covered with mire, he says, if there be anything that I can do to befriend you, I will do it now. Just at that moment, the wretch is arrested by a sheriff's officer for debt. The man who has been insulted takes out his purse and pays the debt and says, you may go free. See, the wretch spits in his face after that. Now, you say, let the law have its way with him. Is there any room for patience now? So would it have been with man. It has not been so with God. Though, like the cart, he is pressed under the load of sheaves. Yet like the cart, the axle does not break. He bears the load. He bears with impenitent sinners still. And this brings me to the fourth head on which I would have your deepest attention. Some of you, I fear, have never seen sin in the light of grieving God, or else you would not wish to grieve him any more. On the other hand, some of you feel how bitter a thing evil is and you wish to be rid of it. This is our fourth head, not only doth God still bear with sin, but God in the person of his Son did bear and take away sin. These words would have deep meaning if put into the lips of Jesus. I am pressed under you as a cart is pressed that is full of sheaves. Here stood the great problem. God must punish sin, and yet he desired to have mercy. How could it be? Low, Jesus comes to be the substitute for all who trust him. The load of guilt is laid upon his shoulders. See how they pile on him the sheaves of human sin? My soul looks back to see the burdens thou dist bear when hanging on the cursed tree and hopes her guilt was there. The Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. There they lie, sheaf on sheaf, till he is pressed down like the wane that groaneth as it moves along. He is despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. See him? He did sweat as it were great drops of blood falling to the ground. Herod mocks him. Pilate jeers him. They have smitten the Prince of Judah upon the cheek. I gave my back to the Smiders and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair. I hid not my face from shame and spitting. They have tied him to the pillar. They are beating him with rods. Not this time forty stripes save one, for there is no save one with him. The chastisement of our peace was upon him. And with his stripes we are healed. See him? Like a cart pressed down with sheaves, traversing the streets of Jerusalem. Well may you weep, ye daughters of Jerusalem, though he bids you dry your tears. Abjects hoot at him as he walks along, bowed beneath a load of his own cross, which was the emblem of our sin. They bring him to Golgotha. They throw him on his back. They stretch out his hands and his feet. The accursed iron penetrates the tenderest part of his body, where most the nerves do congregate. They lift up the cross. O bleeding Savior, thy time of woe is come. They dash it into the socket with cruel force. The nails are tearing through his hands and feet. He hangeth in extremity for God hath forsaken him. His enemies persecute and take him. For there is none to deliver him. They mock his nakedness. They point at his agonies. They look and stare upon him with ribald jests. They insult his griefs. They make puns upon his prayers. He is now indeed a worm and no man, crushed till you can scarcely think that divinity dwells within him. Fever parches him. His tongue is dried up like a pot shirt, and he cries, I thirst. Vinegar is all that yield him. The sun refuses to shine, and the dense midnight of that awful midday is a fitting emblem of the tenfold darkness of his soul. Out of that all-encompassing horror he cryeth, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Then indeed was he pressed down. There was never sorrow like unto his sorrow. All mortal griefs found a reservoir in his heart, and the punishment of human guilt spent itself upon his body and his soul. Shall sin ever be a trifle to me? Shall I laugh at that which made my Savior groan? Shall I toy and dally with that which stabbed him to the heart? Sinner, wilt thou not give up thy sins for the sake of him who suffered for sin? Yes, sayest thou. Yes, if I could believe that he suffered for my sake. Wilt thou trust thy soul in his hands at once? Does thou do so? Then he died for thee, and took thy guilt, and carried all thy sorrows, and thou mayest go free, for God is satisfied, and thou art absolved. Christ was burdened that thou mightest be lightened. He was pressed that thou mightest be free. I would, I could talk of my precious master as John would speak, who saw him and bear witness. For he could tell in plaintive tones of the sorrows of Calvary, such as I have, I give you. O that God would give you with it the power, the grace to believe on Jesus at once. For if not, and here is our last point, God will only bear the load of your provocation for a little while, and if we are not in Christ when the end shall come, that same load will crush us forever. My text is translated by many learned men, in a different way from the version before us. According to them it should be read, I will press you as a cart that is full of sheaves, presseth your place. That is just as a heavy loaded wagon pressed into the soft eastern roads, and left deep furrows, so will I crush you, sayeth God, beneath the load of your sin. This is to be your doom, my hearer, if you are out of Christ, your own deeds are to press upon you. Need we enlarge upon this terror? I think not. It only needs that you should make a personal application of the threatening. Divide yourselves now, divide yourselves, I say. Answer each one for himself. Does thou believe on the Lord Jesus Christ? Then the threatening is not thine, but if thou believest not, I conjure thee, listen to me now, as if thou werest the only person here. A Christless soul will ere long be a cast away. He that believeth not in Christ is condemned already, because he but believeth not. How wilt thou escape if thou wilt neglect so great salvation? Thus sayeth the Lord unto thee, consider thy ways, by time, by eternity, by life, by death, by heaven, by hell, I do conjure thee, believe in him who is able to save unto the uttermost, them that come unto him. But if thou believest not in Christ, thou shalt die in thy sins. After death the judgment, oh, the judgment, the thundering trumpet, the multitude, the books, the great white throne, the come ye blessed, the depart ye cursed, after judgment, to a soul that is out of Christ, hell, who among us, who among us, shall abide with the devouring flame? Who among us, who among us, shall dwell with everlasting burnings? I pray that none of us may, but we must unless we fly to Christ. I beseech thee, my dear hearer, fly to Jesus. I may never see thy face again. Thine eyes may never look into mine again, but I shake my skirts of thy blood if thou believest not in Christ. My tears entreat thee. Let his longsuffering lead thee to repentance. He willeth not the death of any, but that they should turn unto him and live. And this turning lies mainly in trusting Jesus with your soul. Wilt thou believe in Christ? Nay, I know thou wilt not, unless the spirit of God shall constrain thee. But if thou wilt not, it shall not be for want of pleading and entreating. Come, tis mercy's welcome hour. I pray thee, come. Jesus with pierced hands invites thee. Though thou hast long rejected him, he knocks again. His unconquerable love defies thy wickedness. He begs thee to be saved. Sinner, wilt thou have him or know? Whosoever will, let him come and take of the water of life freely. God help you to come for the glorious Redeemer's sake. Amen.