The Heath in the Desert

Edward Griffin (1770—1837)
 

Jeremiah 17:5-6
"This is what the LORD says: Cursed is the one who trusts in man, who depends on flesh for his strength and whose heart turns away from the LORD. He will be like a heath in the desert; he will not see prosperity when it comes. He will dwell in the parched places of the desert, in a salt land where no one lives."

The Jews had withdrawn their dependence from God and looked for protection to themselves and the auxiliary powers of Egypt. The consequence was that they were delivered into the hands of the Babylonians to be desolated and destroyed. To this our text had primary reference. But it was intended to apply to men in every age. Instances are never lacking of those who put their trust in man and whose hearts depart from the Lord; and they are always like the heath in the desert.

We find two definitions given of a heath. It is a shrub which grows in barren places; and the name is applied to the extended plains of the Arabian desert, which are covered with barren sand, with here and there a few unsightly shrubs. This inhospitable desert, except at the equinoxes, is seldom visited with rain; and the few vegetables it produces barely exist by the refreshment afforded by the nightly dews. From this neighboring country many images were borrowed to illustrate the subjects and adorn the writings of the prophets. It is not material in which sense the word is understood in the text. It well illustrates the meaning in either sense.

Those barren deserts, equally with the languishing shrubs which they produce, do not see when good comes. Showers may fall on the mountains of Canaan, but neither the sand of the desert nor the parched shrubs imbibe the refreshing moisture.

But I choose to consider the allusion as made to the sandy plains. While the trees of Canaan spread out their roots by the rivers and the dew lies all night upon their branches; while the bosom of God's vineyard receives the rains of Heaven, and like a well watered garden, sends forth its pleasant fruits—the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys—while the eye, perched on Pisgah, is filled with the luxuriant scene, spread over the holy mountains, and sees grouped together, in sweet confusion, gardens of myrrh, orchards of pomegranates, and trees of frankincense; the desolate wastes of the Arabian heaths, doomed to eternal deformity and barrenness, never see when good comes.

We may now look on the text with perhaps increased interest. "This is what the LORD says: Cursed is the one who trusts in man, who depends on flesh for his strength and whose heart turns away from the LORD. He will be like a heath in the desert; he will not see prosperity when it comes. He will dwell in the parched places of the desert, in a salt land where no one lives."

Let us first ascertain against whom so vehement a curse is denounced, and then trace the resemblance between them and the heath in the desert.

The persons alluded to are those who disclaim dependence on God and whose hearts of course depart from him. Idolaters of every kind, avowed infidels, and all the openly profane, obviously fall under this description. But I shall rather select three classes otherwise defined, believing that what is said of them will better apply to my hearers than observations pointed at infidelity or open vice.

1. Those fall under this condemnation who, though outwardly decent, have no realizing sense that they are utterly dependant on God for happiness, and that all true happiness consists in the enjoyment of him; who consequently spend their life in searching for happiness among the trinkets of worldly objects; whose secret influencing feeling is that they are independent of God, that if they can collect such an amount of wealth and honor they can be happy without asking permission from him, and who are so occupied in these pursuits as scarcely to think of him from day to day. Such people act in many respects as though there was:
no God who is constantly supporting their lives;
no God on whom they are in all points dependant;
no God whose eyes search them through and through;
no God who will call them to a strict and awful account for the misimprovement of their talents and privileges, for their infinite ingratitude and abuse of his patience.

They plainly trust in other things for happiness, and think that if they can gain the world, they can be happy without asking permission of God. One consideration proves it true. They do not ask permission of God to be happy. In the morning they are so anxious to hurry into the business of the day where they think their happiness lies, that they do not assemble their families and humbly ask permission of God to be happy that day. They do not even make this petition in their closets. And is it not plain that their secret influencing feeling, is they need not ask this permission of him?

The prayerless, the stupid, and the worldly are therefore of the number who inherit the curse denounced in the text.

2. There is another class of men who fall under this condemnation. They are not indeed doltish and prayerless, but anxious and constant in the use of means, thinking that now they are making progress towards Heaven. But what destroys the value of all their endeavors is, that they put their trust in man and make flesh their arm. They look for relief to ministers and Christians, to their own reformation, prayers, and good resolutions. By present strictness and devotion they hope to make amends for past offences, and by the fervor of their cries to inspire God with mercy. And when they have been a little more engaged than usual, they flatter themselves that now God's resentments are in some measure disarmed. Neglecting to fix all their dependence on Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, as the sole Author of a gracious salvation, they are still under the curse denounced against those who make flesh their arm; and instead of advancing nearer to God, their hearts are constantly departing from him.

Mistaken souls! they are much farther from the kingdom of Heaven than they imagine. They have indeed some little sense of sin, but they have no adequate impression of the amazing pollution of their hearts—that from the crown to the foot there is no soundness, but one entire mass of corruption. And they are not overwhelmed with astonishment that so much selfishness, pride, and idolatry, so much unbelief and hatred of God, so much ingratitude and doltishness, so much neglect of prayer—should be kept, by long suffering mercy, so long out of Hell. They do by no means see the full extent of their ruin, and therefore do not feel that they are utterly undone, helpless and hopeless in themselves, and unsusceptible of deliverance from the infinite depths of their misery but by almighty grace.

Could they once obtain a clear view of their awful depravity, they would renounce every thought of doing anything to help themselves, or that all created power would help them, and would lie on their faces in sackcloth and ashes, and think of nothing but to cry, day and night, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" Let them once see themselves as God sees them, and they would no longer be but half in earnest, divided between salvation and the world. They would feel that matters have come to a most urgent crisis, that there is no more time to be lost, and would cast themselves in haste upon the Savior as the only hope of sinners. But as they now are, they are bending under the ponderous curse denounced against those who put their trust in man and whose hearts depart from the Lord.

3. There is still another class under this curse. They are not neglectful of religious forms; they are not awakened by the Spirit of God. They are chained to death by a false hope. Some of them are in the Church, some are out; but whether out or in, they are depending on a form of godliness without the power. Punctual as others perhaps in their attendance on ordinances, they are never roused to strong desires and efforts for the Redeemer's kingdom. Though "the secret of the Lord is with those who fear him," yet he comes to build up Zion without telling them. Though he comes in answer to the prayers of his people, they must know it is not in answer to theirs. Though at such a season the children of God have groanings which cannot be uttered, they, except a little carnal sympathy, remain as cold as ever. They sleep "in harvest," and therefore have the decisive mark of a "son that causes shame." Such a season as this is the grand test to discover false hopes. The wise and foolish virgins slept together undistinguished until the bridegroom came. Never until the wheat grew were the tares known; "but when the blade was sprung up and brought forth fruit, then appeared the tares also." This is represented as a very numerous class even in the Church of Christ. "Five were wise, and five were foolish."

Having thus found three classes who fall under the sentence of the text, I will search no farther for objects of the curse, but will proceed to show how these resemble the heath in the desert. I will still consider the three classes distinctly.

First, of the prayerless, the stupid, and the worldly. These resemble the heath:

1. In their barrenness and deformity. Their Creator gave them abundant powers to bring forth fruit. He has cultivated them by the most select means; by his word and ordinances, by "precept upon precept, line upon line," by a preached Gospel, by his long and pleading calls, by the often repeated influences of his Spirit; until he can appeal to Heaven and earth, "What could have been done more to my vineyard that I have not done in it?" And after all his pains, and notwithstanding his undeniable claims to the fruits of his own vineyard, when he comes year after year seeking fruit therein, he finds it only a barren heath, yielding nothing to recompense his pains.

Nothing? Yes worse than nothing—a crop of misshapen shrubs which only offend the sight and render the heath still more forlorn. When he looked for fruit it brought forth wild fruit—the grapes of Sodom and the clusters of Gomorrah. Instead of consecrating their powers to God which is their reasonable service, they devote them to rebellion. Instead of blessing him for their existence and all his hourly mercies, they cherish enmity against him. Though he created the world and furnished it and placed them in it on purpose to serve him, and has supported them so many years that they might live and labor for him; though he has redeemed them from eternal death to give them still an opportunity to serve him; though he has so long kept them out of Hell on the express condition that they should devote their lengthened lives to his service, and has waited upon them and labored with them for so many years, under so many discouragements, to see if at length they would not feel some sincere compunctions and return to his service; yet, to the shame of all creation, they refuse to serve him still. Their lives are wholly taken up in dishonoring him. What visage is not covered with shame and what heart is not filled with grief at the sight of such unfeeling depravity?

2. They resemble the heath in that they are desolate, forsaken, and unblest. The desert is uncheered by any of those pleasant scenes which fill the valleys of Canaan with gladness. No voice of joy or song is heard on the heath. While those who wait on God are refreshed like Eden after rain, when she sends forth her fragrance as from a thousand altars of incense; these, like sandy deserts, are the seats only of desolation and woe. "The wicked are like the troubled sea when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. There is no peace, says my God, to the wicked." "The way of transgressors is hard," "and the way of peace have they not known."

But the ways of wisdom "are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace." "Great peace have those who love your law, and nothing shall offend them;" "and in keeping of it there is great reward." It is a just decree of Heaven that those who consume their lives in sin should consume them in sorrow—that those who resemble the heath in deformity and barrenness, should resemble it in desolation and woe.

3. In times of special refreshment in Canaan the heath knows not "when good comes." While the holy land is wet with drops from the yearning eye of Heaven, and sends forth leaves of the palm tree and clusters of the vine, the Arabian deserts, fated to be parched with everlasting drought, remain as desolate as before. This feature of resemblance is deeply affecting in such a day as this. While showers of grace are watering the rest of the land and calling forth fruits from holy ground, these barren sands know not when good comes. While Jesus of Nazareth is passing by and some are as solemn as eternity—these can go jocundly along to their labors and diversions, and, Gallio-like, care for none of these things. While others with anxious tears are entreating to know what they shall do to be saved—these, as though they had no souls, are locking themselves up from thought and burying themselves in business and pleasure.

Perhaps God comes near them and plucks some from ruin before their eyes. Perhaps he enters their houses and takes one from their table and another from their bed; but they, as though locked fast in the slumbers of eternal death, take little notice of what is passing. Instead of seizing the golden moment of calling upon God while he is near, they lose the opportunity, though it is probably the last that they ever will have before they are either in eternity or hardened past recovery. Are not such people deranged? Why do they not arise and call upon God before destruction overwhelms them?

4. The showers which sometimes fall on the Arabian heaths, instead of rendering them fruitful, serve only to promote the growth of the misshapen shrubs which render their deformity still more disfigured. In like manner, the influences of Heaven which sometimes fall on this class of men, serve only to stir up their pride and enmity, to call forth a more fatal resistance of the Holy Spirit, to sink them into seven fold doltishness and hardness, and in many instances to seal their eternal doom!

5. It is to be feared that many of these persons resemble the heath in a still more awful respect. The heath can never be made a fruitful field. Whatever showers fall upon it, it still remains a wide, dreary waste of sand. With all my heart I would be glad to hope that none of my hearers answer this description: yet alas is there not too much reason to fear it! God has exhausted means upon them, but in vain. He has called them by his word, by his Spirit, and by his providence. He has torn their friends from their side and lodged them in the grave. He has laid them upon beds of sickness and brought them to look death in the face. All has been done that means could do, but all to no purpose. Is there not solemn reason to fear that nothing will ever avail? And even now, in this day of merciful visitation, their pride, and perhaps their malignity, is arrayed against every impression and is fearfully resisting the Holy Spirit; and they are likely to remain inveterate until the season is past and they are perhaps sealed. At any rate there is little probability that they will be called in doltish times, or that they will both live to see and have a heart to improve another revival. What are such people dreaming about that they do not break from their slumbers, like men awoke in a burning house, and flee for their lives? It is too probable that the ruin of some of them is already sealed, and that while they are looking forward to future conversion, it is settled by a judicial sentence that such an event shall never take place. This may be the case with some who are turning these things off upon others, with little thought that they are the very persons intended. And yet for this same reason they are likely to be the very persons.

After what has been said it will not be difficult to discover in what respects the second class resemble the heath in the desert. They still retain their false dependencies and their hearts depart from the Lord. All the showers which have fallen on these desolate wastes, have only called forth certain weeds into greater luxuriance. The light thrown on the divine character has only increased their enmity. They are sinning against greater knowledge and greater mercy than they ever did before. In these respects they never sinned at so great a rate. While others who have had similar calls are made rich for eternity—these do not see when good comes. They remain desolate and uncheered by those consolations which gladden the hearts of God's people. And it is but too probable that some of them continuing unfruitful under all cultivation will be doomed, like the heath, to perpetual barrenness.

Some of the awakened may here feel themselves hard pressed and be ready to say: I cannot change my own heart. I do the best I can, and what can I do more? If by the best you can you mean the best that you are disposed to do, the same is true of the thief and the robber. But if you claim to act up to the full extent of your natural powers, the word of God is against you. That declares that you have eyes but see not, and ears but hear not, and places all your guilt in the depravity of your heart—in just such a heart as prevents the malevolent man from loving his neighbor and the thief from being honest: and if you can thus excuse yourselves, the whole race of sinners in earth and Hell will cover themselves with the same plea.

Will you pretend that you do the best you can? the best you can for a single day? How little time do you devote to secret prayer. How many words and actions which you know to be wrong escape you. O could you see the infinite wickedness of your hearts and lives, you would drop all these excuses in a moment and vent your whole soul in the impassioned cry, "God, be merciful to me a sinner!"

But as it is, you lie under the fearful curse denounced against those who make flesh their arm and whose hearts depart from the Lord. Take in this opiate a little longer and the day of grace will be past, and you must remain like the heath in the desert which never sees when good comes.

The third class resemble the heath in deformity and barrenness. Though they resort to sacraments and transact with covenants, or at least hope in God's mercy, they never bring forth fruit. Through all their souls, the eye of God sees nothing better than sin. They are desolate and without consolation. The influences of Heaven fall on others, but they remain the same. In all the bursting glory of a revival, they remain much the same. And so they will remain in all probability until they die and take their place with Judas and with Ananias and Sapphira! O it will be a fearful thing to go down with them from hopes and sacraments and vows. Ten thousand times will you wish that you had been born a heathen, that you had lived an infidel, that you had died like the despairing Voltaire and Hume. Anything but to go down to Hell from a hope in Christ and from the privileges of the Christian church.

I know I have been long already, but I cannot stop. Let me come nearer to these three classes and pour upon them my whole soul.

1. I will address myself to those who, wholly buried in the world, cast off fear and restrain prayer. Unhappy men, for one moment examine the ground on which you stand. While you are living thoughtless of your Maker you are altogether in his hands. You are constantly suspended over the lake of fire, on the palm of the hand of an angry God! You slept there all last night; you lie there today: and should he turn his hand you fall to rise no more! While you are dreaming that if you could obtain so much of the world you would have no occasion to ask permission of God to be happy, and while you are practically saying that you have no need of him, but can break your way through and be happy though he is your enemy, think for a moment—mortal man, what are you about? How easy for him to dash your hopes in ten thousand ways.

When you arise in the morning and hurry into the business of the day without calling on his name, thinking that you can find happiness without him—how easy for him to turn his hand and let you down into Hell before night. Where is your reason that in your circumstances you can set up for independence? you who every moment need so much done for you. While lying under the wrath of God and in such perishing need of his pardoning grace, surely you have chosen the very worst period in your existence to set up for independence.

Under such circumstances what can one mean to think of being happy without asking permission of God? How dare you live another hour without prayer? Hark, how it thunders. "Cursed be the man that trusts in man and makes flesh his arm, and whose heart departs from the Lord." Does it not move you to hear that God has such feelings towards you and denounces such a curse against you? Do you purpose to wear out life in this fatal search after independent happiness? Can you hope to maintain your ground? It is the fixed determination of the Almighty, that you shall not—that if you will not return and seek happiness of him alone, he will crush you beneath his feet. O that you knew in this your day the things that belong to your peace, before they are hidden from your eyes.

While the showers of Heaven are falling around you, you might become rich for eternity! What pity that you should once again lose seasons on which so much depends. Will you forever remain like the heath in the desert? If tears would avail we would weep over you with the weeping of Jazer (Jeremiah 48:32). But tears and entreaties have hitherto been to no purpose. Shall everything be lost upon you? Shall the influences of the Holy Spirit be thrown away upon you? I entreat, I beseech you, let not this precious season be like those which are now with the years prior to the flood. It may be the last. For once have compassion on your own souls.

2. I will apply the subject to the awakened. In the name of God I warn you not to place your dependence on any helper below the skies. Trust not in your own strength, nor in the purchasing influence of your own duties. Rest not on ministers or Christians. The arm of an angel is too short to save. Only he who expired on Calvary can bring the mighty blessing. Repair immediately to him. Spread your wants before him. Cast your souls upon him. Offend him no longer by your obstinate delay. Grieve him no longer by refusing him your confidence—a confidence which he has so richly earned. He has a heart to pity the wretched though unworthy. His arms are open to receive you. If the voice of Sinai thundering in our text be unheeded, O let the inviting voice of Calvary woo you to his arms.

3. I would address those who dream that they love God better than father or mother or life, and yet are sluggish and unconcerned in such a day as this; in other words, those who are chained to death by a false hope.

This is the most frightful description of people we meet with in revivals. Infidels are on the open field of battle; mockers are on the open field, and we know where to find them; but these skulk under our feet and we stumble over them: we lean upon them and they let us fall: we confide in them and they betray us to the enemy. They are the most perplexing and discouraging of all men. They stand in the way; they cumber the ground—the consecrated ground of the vineyard itself; they are only fit for the flames!

Unhappy men, I have nothing to do with you at present but to assail your false hope. Others I urge to come and embrace a Savior; you I would tear away from your lying hold of him. But I shall not prevail. I shall probably shake hopes, but not yours. It is easy to alarm the humble, who know the deceitfulness of their hearts; but to demolish a false hope, deeply embedded in selfishness and ignorance, and sworn to by the grand deceiver, this the labor, this the task is. I would rather undertake to convert ten infidels, than to demolish one false hope, especially if pampered by the sacramental elements. I thought to make an address to you, but I turn away discouraged. I seem to hear him say, "He who is filthy let him be filthy still." There is very little prospect that your hope will ever leave you until it is sunk in eternal despair!

Finally, let the children of God—the dear, beloved children of God—renounce all remaining confidence in creature resources—broken cisterns—and receive what with all my heart I present them, the precious promises which succeed our text: "Blessed is the man that trusts in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreads out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat comes; but her leaf shall be green, and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit."