The Husbandmans Companion, Meditation 83
Upon a dead tree.
83. Med.
OBſerving a dead tree in the orchard that had neither fruit nor leaves, and ſo was neither for profit nor pleaſure, for fruit nor ornament, but rather an encumbrance to the ground, and a deformity to the place, I began upon this Obſervation to conſider, that this was the caſe of many a poor dead ſoul amongſt us, who though planted in Gods vineyard, hedged about by his providence, and watered with the dew of heaven, and manured by the skilfulleſt vine-dreſſers, yet remains dead, fruitleſs, and uſeleſs, and hath done ſo many years, and hath done nothing all this while but cumber the ground, and keep a room, and did but grow worſe and worſe, and every day more fitter for the fire then other, this minded me of Gods mercy and mans wickedneſs, Gods mercy in ſparing ſuch unprofitable wretches, ſome of them 50 or 60 years together, and all that while ſending his vine-dreſſers to dig and dung, and manure them from year to year, that never yielded any good fruit in their lives, and mans wickedneſs that will not be won upon by all theſe entreaties and continued favours, that are ſo hard, that neither the ſun nor the rain can ſoften, neither fair means nor foul can work upon them, and to this day do yet remain a reproach to the place they live in; for ſin (ſaith Solomon) is a reproach to any people, Pro. 14.34. when righteouſneſs exalteth a Nation: True Religion and the power of godlineſs is the beauty and bulwark of a Nation, but ſin is a deformity, and an evil diſeaſe, it is the ſnuff that dims our candle, yea, threatens the removal of our candleſtick; Capernaum that once was lifted up to heaven, is threatned to be caſt down to hell, if a dead tree deform a well-regulated orchard, and is ſuch an offence that it will not be endured by the owner, nor be ſuffered to ſtand; or if a dead carkaſs be ſo loathſom a thing, that in a little time the neareſt and deareſt relations, and the moſt intimate friends are weary of it, how loathſome then is a dead ſoul to God, though the unſavoury ſmell of it be not perceived by natural men; for how can one dead man ſmell another? you may as well expect good fruit from a dead tree, as any good action from a dead man, perhaps ſomething good for the matter may be done by a natural man, as prayer, faſting, and almeſ-deeds from the Phariſees, but the manner or ends ſpoil all, but he that can ſay to dry bones, live, can ſay to a dead ſoul, live; and he that at the firſt brought light out of darkneſs, can enlighten a darkned underſtanding: The ſoul can act nothing truly good, or acceptable to God, till it be taken off the ſtock of nature, and planted into that generous vine Chriſt, then will it bear good fruit: when it is nouriſhed with ſap from this root, it muſt needs germinate and bring forth, but without this there is neither bud nor bloſſome: the ſoul by nature brings forth briars, and brambles, thorns and thiſtles, weeds, and baggage, for to theſe it is not dead, but only to good works; theſe other are the fruits of the curſe, and theſe will choak the good ſeed, and render it unprofitable; the heart is alive to thoſe, but dead to grace and holineſs: of natural men (God ſaith) their vine is the vine of Sodom and of the field of Gomorrha, their grapes are grapes of gall, and their cluſters are bitter; their wine is the poyſon of dragons and the cruel venime of aſps: their works, yea, their beſt works are pernitious; the vine is their corrupt nature, and the grapes their evil works, which proceed from this vine; their ſpot is not the ſpot of Gods people, Deut. 32.5. the ſaints have their ſpots, but theſe are not like theirs, they are not ſo deeply ingraven, wicked mens ſpots are like the Leopards, not only in the skin but in the fleſh, yea, in the very heart, and therefore can be cured by none, but Chriſt the great Phyſitian; they cannot be cured by the art of man, or waſht away by any water; the ſin of the ſaints is but like the viper on Pauls hand, through Gods mercy they hurt him not: how many of theſe dead trees may we obſerve among us, yea, how few that be alive, and few bear ſo much as a leaf, they make no profeſſion of Religion at all, but deform the place where they are, and procure a curſe upon it: I fear it may be ſaid of England in a ſpiritual ſence, as once it was ſaid of Egypt, there was not a family that there was not ſome dead perſon in it, and I fear there are very few free amongſt us, nay, are not moſt familyes all thus ſpiritually dead? and it appears they are dead, when after twenty years dreſſing, pruning, watering and manuring, and that by the moſt skilfull husbandmen, who have ſpent their time, their ſtrength, and their lives in the work, yet they do not bring forth one leaf, much leſſe any good fruit; and there is none can cure them, but he that can put life into them, and ſay to a dead ſoul, live; and can tranſplant them from the ſtock of nature into that noble vine Chriſt; that they are dead is apparent, for their ſouls have all the ſymptoms of death upon them, they have neither heat, nor breath nor ſence nor motion; if God call they hear not; if his hand be ſtretched out they obſerve it not; if a load of ſin ly upon them as heavy as a mountain of lead, they feel it not; nor the deep gaſhes ſin makes in the ſoul: preſent before a dead man the bloudieſt ſpectacle that ever was beheld, or the pleaſanteſt ſight that ever was ſeen, all is one, he ſees neither the one nor the other, the roaring cannon, and the ſweeteſt muſick is all one; the ſweeteſt ſavour, and the fulſomeſt ſtink, he cannot difference; the lighteſt feather, and the heavieſt mountain, ſignify the ſame; the ſweeteſt meat, and the rankeſt poyſon: and why? becauſe he is dead; no more can a dead ſoul judge of ſpiritual things; promiſes and threatnings are all alike, he is moved neither with the one or with the other: oh my ſoul, this hath been thy caſe, thou haſt been ſpiritually dead, dead in treſpaſſes and ſins, thou haſt been ſpiritually deaf and dumb, and blinde and lame, and if it be better with thee, bleſs God for it, for it was he, and not thy ſelf put life into thee: bring forth now fruit ſutable to a tree that hath life, that is tranſplanted into Chriſt, that hath had ſuch planting, dreſſing, and manuring, as thou haſt had, that Gods labour be not loſt upon thee: oh my God, remove thoſe obſtructions that hinder me from bearing fruit, and purge me that I may bring forth more fruit, put life into me, and I ſhall live.