THE LOADED WAGON.
Charles Spurgeon · Talks to Farmers
"Behold, I am pressed under you, as a cart is pressed that is full of
sheaves."--AMOS 2:13.
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 to-day to the gate of the harvest-field with
another object--to see the wagon piled up aloft 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 till 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 of 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 well 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, O 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 axles 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 crieth 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 isles 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 beareth 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 Mazzaroth
in his season and guideth Arcturus with his sons. He beareth up the
foundations of the earth! and holdeth the cornerstone thereof. He
causeth the dayspring to know its place, and setteth a bound to darkness
and 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 for ever, 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 it sport, and say, "He regardeth not; he seeth 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 mars
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 to day the smiling sun and to night its 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 hateth 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_? O sinner, God biddeth 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 in error, and that you, the creature of
a day, are the best judge of happiness. Sin impugns 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 the 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 in 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 undeify the Most High. And is this a little offence, to snatch
from his brow the crown, and from his hand the sceptre? 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 would be taken from their axles, 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 Esaias 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 lawgiver, that were not to
be borne with; but this is your case and mine. We must confess, "Against
thee, thee 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 Hottentot, or the cannibal. We in England sin against
extraordinary light and sevenfold knowledge; and is this a light thing?
Can you expect that God shall pass by wilful and deliberate offences?
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 in 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 text 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 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--wholly 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 text 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 lechery. This sin is not uncommon in
our day; let our midnight streets and our divorce 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 and the orphan, and make the
laborer toil for nought. How many business men 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 hath offended by idolatry. Woe to such,
and equal woe to those who adore crosses, sacraments, or images.
Specially 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 nought." There is nothing gained by profane
talk; there can be no pleasure in cursing; this is offending for
offending's sake, and hence it is a high and 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 lecherous, or the
oppressive, or the profane? Ah, soul, what a mercy God hath borne with
thee 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 an 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 cause to count
their years and apply their hearts unto 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. O God, well
mayest thou be wearied by the length and number of man's sins!
Furthermore, God taketh special note and feeleth an especial weariness
of sin that is mixed with _obstinacy_. Oh how obstinate 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 pawnshop; 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 everlasting ruin. God is weary of those who set
themselves to do mischief, and, against warnings, and invitations, and
entreaties, 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 a 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 crieth out_. Just as the cart
when laden with the sheaves, groaneth under the weight, so the Lord
crieth 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!" Hear 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 grieves over that which thou
laughest at; thy Saviour crieth out in his spirit concerning that which
thou thinkest to be a trifle--"O do not this abominable 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 cause 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 trodden 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 axe, so God is
ever attended by his executioners, who are ready to fulfil 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 at harvest to
the sinner's plough?" The lightnings thunder, and say, "Let us smite the
rebel," 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? Lo! 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 didst 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 wain 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 smiters, 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 ye weep, ye daughters of Jerusalem, though he bids
ye dry your tears! Abjects hoot at him as he walks along bowed beneath
the 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 Saviour, 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 potsherd, and he cries, "I thirst!" Vinegar is all they yield
him. The sun refuses to shine, and the dense midnight of that awful
mid-day is a fitting emblem of the tenfold darkness of his soul. Out of
that all-encompassing horror he crieth, "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 Saviour 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?
Dost 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 bare
witness, for he could tell in plaintive tones of the sorrows of Calvary.
Such as I have I give you; oh that God would give you with it the
power, the grace to believe on Jesus at once.
V. For if not, and here is our last point, God will only bear the load
of our 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, saith 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--Dost 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 wert the only person here. A Christless
soul will ere long be a castaway; he that believeth not in Christ is
condemned already, because he believeth not. How wilt thou escape if
thou wilt neglect so great salvation? Thus saith 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 long-suffering 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 no? "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.