Divine Destruction and Protection

Divine Destruction and Protection

A Sermon

(No. 3494)

Published on Thursday, January 13th, 1916.

Delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

At [2]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington.

"And all the trees of the field shall know that I, Jehovah, have
brought down the high tree, have exalted the low tree, have dried up
the green tree, and have made the dry tree to flourish. I, Jehovah,
have spoken and have done it."–Ezekiel 17:29.

CAN your minds fly back to the time when there was no time, to the day
when there was no day but the Ancient of Days? Can you speed back to
that period when God dwelt alone, when this round world and all the
things that be upon it, had not come from his hand; when the sun flamed
not in his strength, and the stars flashed not in their brightness? Can
you go back to the period when there were no angels, when cherubim and
seraphim had not been born; and, if there be creatures elder than they,
when none of them had as yet been formed? Is it possible, I say, for
you to fly so far back as to contemplate God alone–no creature no
breath of song, no motion of wing–God himself alone, without another?
Then, indeed, he had no rival; none then could contest with him, for
none existed. All power, and glory, and honour and majesty were
gathered up into Himself. And we have no reason to believe that he was
less glorious than He is now, when his ministers delight to do his
pleasure; nor less great than now, when he has crested worlds on
worlds, and thrown them into space, scattering over the sky stars with
both his hands. He sat on no precarious throne; he needed none to add
to his power; he needed none to bring him a revenue of praise; his
all-sufficiency could spirit of no lack. Consider next, if ye can, the
eternal purpose of God that he would create. He determines it in his
mind. Could any but a divine motive actuate the Divine Architect? What
must that motive have been? He creates that he may display his own
perfections. He does beget, as it were, creatures after his own image
that he may live in them; that he may manifest to others the joy, the
pleasure, the satisfaction, which he so intensely feels in himself.
Certain 1 am his own glory must have been the end he had in view; he
would reveal his glory to the sons of men, to angels, and to such
creatures as he had formed, in order that they might reflect his honour
and sing his praise. You are not ignorant, my brethren, of the fact
that sin entered into the world. You know that the creation, which had
been harmonious as a psalm in God's praise, voluminous and exhaustive
as a book in which he revealed his own character–this creation, once
exceedingly fair, became foully marred. Rival instincts were produced,
and rival Interests were set up. Man's will stood up against God's
will; mar's profit against God's honour; man's device against God's
counsel. Eve took of the accursed fruit, and Adam partook of the same,
and henceforth man became a rival to God, just as Satan, aforetime, had
rebelled against the blessed and only Potentate, and usurped authority.
From the time when Satan fell, God's purpose was to break down
everything which set itself up in opposition to him. From that day till
now, no matter how great, how lofty, how apparently excellent a thing
might be, it has been the rule with God to pull it down if it did not
stand in him, and for him; yea, and wherever he has looked, no matter
how mean a thing may have been, how low, how degraded to outward
appearance, it has been God's constant rule to lift it up, if it stood
in him, and for him. Or if, by the lifting up of the humble, he might
throw scorn upon the haughty, he would thereby magnify his own absolute
right to exercise sovereign control, and to do with men as he willed.

Oh! that I could command the words of some of the mighty masters of
song, or that I had an angel's voice, so much rather would I hymn this
high majestic theme than speak of it in listless prose. But I cannot
rise to the awful heights of this incomparable design. I contemplate it
with awe not unmingled with admiration–the Eternal God withstanding
everything that opposes itself against him–thrusting down the mighty
from their seats, plucking off crowns from the heads of princes,
degrading the escutcheons of nobles, trampling in the mire the fine
linen and the scarlet of the rich, setting at nought the wisdom of the
wise, divesting the philosopher of his toga, rending in pieces the
robes of the priest, end pouring contempt upon everything that vaunts
pretension or arrogates prestige in defiance of his sacred
prescriptive, irrevocable lordship. There is no power or permanence, no
warrant or worth, in any claim to greatness or goodness independent of
God, or antagonistic to him. My conceptions are too dwarfish, my
language is too feeble, to compass the grandeur of this theme. It's
truth commends it, and its usefulness enhances it: since it bows the
heart before God. and convinces us that then only are we in a fit state
to be filled with his fulness, to live in his life, to be wise with his
wisdom, and to be glorious in his glory, when we are emptied of our own
conceits. Mine, however, will be a more practical lesson at this time;
and I shall use more homely words than that nobler subject might have
demanded.

METHINKs I see a great forest which reaches for many a league. The
trees are of divers growths, and of various ages. Some of them are very
lofty. Here a towering cedar and yonder the storks have made their
nests among the tall fir trees. Stout oaks there are that laugh at
storms, and elms that will not be twisted with the tempest. See how
they rival each other! And there are lowlier trees; some bearing fruit,
though scarcely seen; others, like the vine, creeping upon the
ground–so obscure they can hardly be observed. It is a strange forest
in which trees of every clime are to be found; some green, verdant,
lader with blossoms and with fruit; others dead, dry, withered, with
scarce here and there a leaf. It is the evening, the cool of the day.
The Lord God that visited the fair garden of Eden is come to walk in
this forest. Along those deep glades, amidst that thick shade, the
Almighty appears. He comes. How see I him? Bears he in his hand an
awful axe, and cloth he pass his finger along its edge to see that it
be keen? Strong is the arm that wields it. Howl, cedars, if once he
life that axe against you. What means that Woodman to do? Wait, and let
us hear him speak. Oh! ye trees of the field be silent before the Lord.
Clap not your hands until we have heard him speak. "The trees of the
field shall know that I the Lord have brought down the high
tree–beware, ye towering cedars!–"that I have exalted the low
tree"–take courage, ye lowly vines!–"have dried up the green
tree"–wail, ye verdant elms–"and have made the dry tree to
flourish";–hope, ye withered boughs!–"I the Lord have spoken, and
have done it." Let the trees be silent before the Lord, for he cometh
to judge them, and he judgeth them with much jealousy. That forest I
have before my eyes; men like trees appear to me in the vision. While I
gaze on this dense mass of people listening to my voice, let me
interpret the Mighty Woodman's words to you. There are four notes of
which we shall speak one after the other. May God sanctify the emblems
to our profit, touching our ears, and teaching our hearts, that we may
rightly understand what the Lord saith to the trees of the forest.

I. "THUS SAITH THE LORD, THE TREES OF THE FIELD SHALL KNOW THAT I THE
LORD HAVE BROUGHT DOWN THE HIGH TREE."

Look over history, and you will see that everything gigantic in stature
and colossal in dimensions, whatsoever has been great to human
apprehension, grasping at earthly fame, has become an object for God's
penetrating arrows, and a subject for his withering blight. A grand
idea of universal monarchy flashed upon the mind of man. He would build
a tower, the top whereof should reach to heaven. What did the Lord do
with this fine scheme? "I will come down," said "to Babel, and see if
it be altogether as they have said." Then he touched their tongues, and
confounded their language, and scattered the imaginations of their
hearts: so he laughed them to scorn, and left them to be a
laughingstock to all generations. Then came the great power of Egypt.
Pharaoh said, "Am I not lord of Thebes, with its hundred gates, and
with its myriads of brazen chariots? Have I not a mighty host of
cavalry? Who is equal to me? I speak, and the nations tremble." When
the king hardened his heart, how did Jehovah–the King of kings–get
himself honour from Pharaoh and his hosts? "Thou didst blow with thy
wind; the sea covered them; they sank as lead in the mighty waters.
Sing unto the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously; the horse and his
rider bath he cast into the sea!" In after years Babylon set herself up
as a queen. "I shall be a lady for ever," said the gay metropolis of;
the earth, the mighty city of Euphrates. "I sit alone; I shall see no
sorrow." Behold, she decketh herself out with scarlet, she arrayeth
herself with silk; all the nations of the earth are quiet when she
ariseth nor is the sound of a whisper heard when the voice of her
command goes forth. But where art thou, daughter of Assyria, where art
thou now, O daughter of Chaldea, where is the crown which once circled
thy brow and adorned thy heady Go, mark a leap of rubbish, and of
desolate stones; hear the hooting of the owls and the howling of the
dragons, as each one calleth to his fellow in the midst of a desolation
which cannot be repaired! How art thou fallen from heaven, Lucifer, son
of the morning! Thus God breaketh in pieces with his right hand
everything arrogant and supercilious, that dares to assert greatness
apart from his endowment, or to presume on authority other than he
delegates. I might prolong the strain. I might tell you of Rome, and
all the boastings of that Imperial mistress, point to her faded charms,
and tell of her decay and her decadence. I might lead you back to
Sennacherib and all his hosts overthrown, or recite the story of
Nebuchadnezzar, driven out from the abodes of men, and feeding the
beasts. I might show you lesser kings, kings of Israel, brought
exceeding low, until they who had sat on the throne as princes pined in
the dungeon among slaves. To multiply instances would be only to
confirm the general current of history, and illustrate the fact that
the Lord, even the Lord of hosts, always cuts down the high tree,
humiliates the creature that exalts itself, and suffers no flesh to
glory in his presence. That is the law of his government.

The question arises, how does it concerns us? Doubtless it opens a sad
prospect to those who are lifted up with pride, or inflated with
self-opinion. Are there any among you who boast in heraldry a long
succession of illustrious names which has ennobled your pedigree? Some
people seem to think that the world is hardly good enough for them to
tread upon, as if they were made of china, while other men are moulded
but of common clay; they look down upon the public as an ignoble herd,
and speak of the masses as the "many-headed" and the "great unwashed."
Such a man will play the parasite to his own dear self, passionately
cherish his own conceits and petulantly hold that whatever belongs to
him is better than anyone else can procure for love or money, be it his
house, or his horse, the water from his well, or the wine from his
cellar. At his wit let all inferiors laugh; to his greed let all who,
would receive his patronizing nod do obeisance. In stately isolation he
will acknowledge no rival. Knowest thou, man, that in one respect thou
hast a veritable pre-eminence?–thou mayest fairly challenge all thy
fellows for one whose disposition the Lord hates more than he abhors
shine. Among the seven abominations, your order ranks highest. No liar
or murderer can claim a preeminence over you in vice so long as the
Proverbs stand. Ere long, the heel of the Almighty shall be lifted
higher than thy haughty head. He will cast thee down, be thy look never
so proud; for the Lord hath purposed it to stain the pride of all
glory, to bring into contempt all the excellency of the earth.

There is, again, an arrogance of mind, of judgement, of opinion, just
as ignorant–if not quite so grotesque–as his who dreams that his
birth is of higher caste, and his blood of richer hue than other men.
Humanity in the bulk is the idol of some people; and yonder I see the
man who quotes himself as an illustrious specimen. He does not believe
in the total depravity of human nature. Judging by himself, the
statement that the whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint, is a
myth; or if it were ever true of a recreant Jew, it never was a fair
indictment against such an orthodox Christian as he is. No, no; he has
kept the law; he feels that in all things he is blameless; he has not
erred, neither will he humble himself before the word that God speaks
to us. In the opinion of such, the gospel that we preach is very good
for harlots, thieves, and drunkards, but it is of no use to the
righteous, for they have put down their own names among those who need
no repentance. Admirable in their conduct, their temper amiable, and
their disposition generous, a salvation by free grace would be wasted
on them. The Lord will abase thee, be thou man or woman, whosoever thou
mayest be; he will shame thee; the axe is ready to be laid at thy root
even now. Thy goodness is not God's goodness, and thy righteousness is
not Christ's righteousness; therefore, shall the moth consume it, and
it shall be eaten away. Or it is my friend yonder, a working man, who
says, " Well, I work as hard as anybody; I bring up my children as well
as I can; I have nothing from the parish; and if I see a poor mate out
of work, I always subscribe my mite, though I have not much to give
away; can it be right to tell me that I am not in a fair way of going
to heaven?" Ah! the Lord will deprive you of such boasting, for he will
bring down all these high trees. You that have any righteousness of
your own, whether you be rich or poor, the same word will apply to you
all. What mattereth it whether you are born of princes, or the
offspring of beggars, pride will nestle in any heart, and presumption
will take advantage of any circumstances? Perhaps I may address some
person who says, "Well, I am a member of the orthodox and true church;
I have been baptized, and I have been confirmed after the most proper
manner; I receive the Lord's supper on all fit and proper occasions.
The clergyman from whom I take the sacrament has received apostolical
ordination. How tasteful the architecture of our church! How decorous;
the congregation! How enchanting the music! There are none of your
rough wild notes that give vent to the feelings. Our organ is the
perfection of mechanism, and it is played with the utmost skill. Our
sacred singers perform their parts with reverent taste. Our litanies
are wailed out in plaintive tones. We do the thing in the right style;
and as I am a member of a branch of a catholic church, I hold myself to
be an heir of eternal life." From thy towering imaginations, O man,
thou shalt speedily totter. God will cast thee down, as surely as thou
livest. No boasting, even of our orthodoxy, or of our attention to
religious formalities, shall ever be allowed to abide his judgment. The
Lord hath set his face against all boastings, and all confidences,
other than a trust in the cross, and a holy reliance on the finished
work and righteousness of Jesus Christ.

Or shall it fare better with another class? There is our friend who
says, "Well, well, I do not believe in forms and ceremonies; but, mark
you, I always judge and weigh everything." He estimates himself as an
independent thinker; he is bound by no precedents, fostered by no
creeds, and considers that he is amenable to no judgment but his own.
He owns no lord but his own conscience, no duty but such as he
prescribes himself, and as for wisdom, he looks with indifference on
all things whatsoever that his private judgment has not endorsed.
Moreover, he doubts the inspiration of the Bible, and has his
misgivings as to the authenticity of some parts of it. He indulges a
little suspicion as to the deity of Christ, and as to the doctrines of
grace; he professes much intelligence, but he exhibits gross
negligence. Strong in his self-assertion, he makes light of the Word of
God, and the will of God, while he holds prophets and apostles in
little esteem. Ah! well, brother! God is against you; he will make a
fool of you one of these days, if you are so wise as to exalt yourself
above his revelation. The world shall see your folly. I tell thee,
captious questioner, that the Lord will bring thee down. "Tut, tut,
tut, I do not believe in any of these things," exclaims the successful
merchant; "I say the best thing is to push ahead on one's own account;
I mean to save money, to get rich, to rise in the world, as others have
done who have made capital of their own wits, and taken care of their
own interest." This is the religion of many people; their creed being
that God will help those who help themselves; in their account, the
highest wisdom is to attend to this world, and as for the world to
come, the best policy is to ignore it. To the statutes of the Lord they
give no heed; Evidently you see no need to depend on God. With a stout
pair of arms and a good clear brain, you are confident you can make
your own way in the world. Will you prosper, sir? I tell you no; for
God is against you. The Lord will you down. Whether it be strength of
limbs and lungs, force off brain and intellect, cunning works or
scheming plans you rely upon, he will lay you level with the dub ere
long. You shall know that he who exalteth himself against his maker
maketh a sorry adventure. Disaster and everlasting confusion are your
inevitable fate. II. FURTHERMORE THE LORD SAYS, "I WILL EXALT THE LOW
TREE."

Here is a word of comfort to some who specially need it. You remember
Joseph in the dungeon, Israel in Egypt, Hannah in the family of
Elkanah, David when Samuel would have passed him by, Hezekiah when
Sennacherib rebuked him. Are not all these instances of God exalting
the low tree? We have no time to expatiate on them, though they are
well worthy of attentive study. But rather now let us ask, Where are
the low trees here among ourselves? Who are they? The low trees are
those poor in spirit, who think others better than they are themselves;
who, instead of carving their names high, are willing to have them
written low, because they feel they have nothing whereof to glory,
nought wherein to boast. The low trees are the penitents, those who
take their stand afar off with the publican, and say, "God, be merciful
to me a sinner"; you that feel your own weakness to do anything aright;
you who are conscious of your own worthlessness, and afraid that God
will never hear your prayers; you that are bowed down low with a sense
of guilt, and hardly dare to look up to the place where his honour
dwelleth; you are the low trees, you are such as God exalteth. You,
too, who tremble at his word; when, you see the threatening, fear lest
it should be executed upon you; when you hear the promise, hardly think
it possible that it can belong to you–you are low trees–God shall
exalt you. You that feel your ignorance, and are willing to be
instructed; you that are modest as children, and ready to sit at the
feet of Jesus; you that have been broken in pieces until you feel that
a crumb of mercy would be more than you deserve, and are willing to
take any dole he is pleased to give–you are the low tree. And you that
are despised, who walk in darkness and see no light; slandered for
Christ's sake; reproached with crimes you never committed; you of whom
the world is not worthy, though the world accounts you to be unworthy
of its esteem–you are the low trees, and God shall exalt you. God
grant us grace to humble ourselves under his mighty hand. The Lord
exalteth the low trees. Is there a soul among you that is ready to
despair–a low tree, so low that it can only compare itself to a
bramble-bush? Well, God dwelt in a bush. You may think that if he
should have enemy upon all other men, yet he must make an exception of
you, so aggravated are your offenses, so depraved your disposition, and
so alien to anything good your natural temperament. Oh! bless the Lord!
He exalteth the low tree. If voice can reach now any humble, fearful,
broken-hearted soul, even though that soul should say it is too good to
be true, yet, in God's name, Let me assure you it is God's message to
you. Rejoice, yea, sing unto your God, for he will lift up the poor
from the dunghill, while he casteth down the mighty from the seats of
their pomp and their places of power.

III. THE LORD HAS ALSO DECLARED THAT "HE WILL DRY UP THE GREEN TREE."

Whether that green tree be high or low, it does not matter; if it be
green in itself, he will cut it down Mark you, a man may be as high as
heaven; if it is God that makes him high, he will stand; but if he be
high in creature-strength, land creature-merits, and creature-glory, he
shall be brought down; and a man may be low without merit, if he is
merely mean and mire, paltry and pitiable, not worth a straw. That is
not the spirit of lowliness that God blesses. In like manner, a man may
be garden because he is planted by the rivers of God's living waters,
that is healthy enough; but those that are like the green bay tree of
the Psalmist, trees growing in their own soil, never transplanted by
grace, green in the verdure of worldly prosperity, and taking all their
delight in earthly things–those are the trees God will dry up. Many I
know of this kind! They profess to be God's people, and they say,
"Well, I never have any anxiety about my eternal state; I do not see
why I should ever have any doubts or fears. I have no prickings of
conscience." This green tree boasts "that its leaves never fade, that
its evidences are always bright." "They have no changes; therefore,
they fear not God." "They have not been emptied from vessel to vessel.
They have no cares; they walk confidently, they talk arrogantly; they
smile disdainfully at some of God's people who groan over their
infirmities and bemoan their sins. Perhaps they go the length of
protesting that they have no vices, and do no wrong; or they will say,
" Why, as for me, I have overcome my bad habits and made amends for my
youthful follies and indiscretions; and if I have any faults, they are
only such as are natural to men, and they do not cause me any trouble."
He will even turn round and rail on this wise, "I cannot think how some
of God's people can do as they do. " No; he is such a blessed,
heavenly-minded hypocrite, that after he has condoned his own crimes,
he condemns other people's customs; hence he holds up the severity of
his judgment as a proof of the integrity of his character. He makes
broad fringes to his own garment, and he cannot think how good men can
wear such narrow fringes to theirs; he has a wide phylactery, and he
cannot imagine how a godly man can wear a smaller one; he prays an hour
and a half at the corner of the street; he cannot think that any man is
godly who prays for ten minutes in his closet; he sounds a trumpet, and
gives away three halfpence to the poor; he cannot understand people
when they give away ten pounds, or a hundred pounds, in the cause of
religion; he thinks they must have mercenary motives. He might stand up
and say, "Look at me if you want to see what a man should be, how a
Christian should live, and what his manner, and conduct, and
conversation should be." Behold the man who counts himself the paragon
of perfection. Have you never met with such green trees? I have. These
people feed without fear, and mock without motive. They laugh at the
idea of Paul's apprehension, when he said, "I keep under my body, lest,
after having preached to others, I myself should be a cast-away." They
think such fears inconsistent with the doctrine of final perseverance,
though in this they are mistaken. A man may know that a true believer
will persevere and yet be very much afraid that he shall not himself
hold out, because he may suspect himself whether he is a true believer
at all. This green tree is never troubled about the future; it is all
right with him; he has launched upon a smooth, deceitful sea, and he
believes it will be calm until he gets to the other side, as for human
weakness, he knows nothing at all about that. He hears God's children
crying, "Who shall deliver us from the body of this death?" and he
looks shocked.

The professor, too, who boasts his deep experience, is like this green
tree. Young Christians he frowns at–he does not like young people. No;
he would not have many young people in the church, because they might
adulterate it, and bring down its spiritual tone. As to doctrine, he is
profoundly learned; "he can a hair divide, betwixt the west and
south-west side," and he censures at once the man who does not
understand all the points. He understands more than the Bible reveals;
he has improved upon the Scriptures; and those who cannot get up to his
standard he despises. As for the poor, and meek, and sickly among the
people of God, he, one of the strong ones, pushes them on either side,
and will give them no rest. Never a man yet had anything to boast of as
his own, but God was sure to dry him up. Let your life be green as
emerald, it shall be brown as March dust before long. You seek sap and
nourishment from yourselves. The spider's web–how soon it is blown
away! Well it may, because it cometh out of the spider's own bowels.
Everything that comes out of self, and lives on self, and hands on
self, and fattens on self, no matter how green it may be, verily,
verily, it shall be dried up. Lastly:–

IV. THE LORD MAKES "THE DRY TREE TO FLOURISH."

There are some dry trees to be pitied in their present condition, yet
to be congratulated on their prospects. I would not say a word to
encourage doubting, but I would say a great many words to encourage
doubters. How many of God's people may be fitly compared to a dry tree!
They have little joy; they have not got to full assurance. They are
afraid to say, "My Beloved is mine, and I am his." Every night, before
they go to bed, they feel such consciousness of sin that they can
hardly sleep. They feel themselves so weak that where others go and
think nothing of it, they dare not trust themselves. They are afraid to
risk temptation; sometimes they are so conscious of their own weakness,
that they do not exert themselves as they ought, and hence their low
spirits, their melancholy, and their mourning. They think they are of
no use to the church, they are half inclined to suspect it was a
mistake for them to be baptized, and that they were to blame for
uniting themselves with the people of God. "Oh!" say they, "if I be a
lamb, I am the sickliest of the whole flock." Were I an heir of
promise, should I feel the assaults of sin as I do? or should I be so
much the prey of indwelling corruption, and become so dry and withered?
Do they retire to the closet to pray, hardly a word can they utter.
They come to, the assembly of believers, and though they do sing with
their lips, the heart cannot sing as it would. There are times, too,
when walking home they say, "I go where others go, but I get no
comfort; if I were really the Lord's, should I be thus; if I did trust
Christ, should I ever be so languid?" Brethren, if it is of your own
bringing about that you are thus dry, I do not offer you any comfort;
but if the Holy Spirit has led you to see your weakness, your
nothingness, your deadness, then I am glad you have been brought to
this pass, for God will cause the dry tree to flourish. When we are
weak, then are we strong. The death warrant is gone out from God
against everything that is of the creature. All that is of nature's
spinning must be unravelled; not your bad nature only, but your good
nature; not your vices only, but your virtues; not your sins alone, but
your graces; all these must be contemned and despised so far as you
venture to put them in the place at Christ. You must cry "Away with
them; away with them," as if they were so much dung and dross. Christ's
blood only for our hope, the Spirit's work only for our life. Here let
us stand, and we shall be safe. The dry tree by divine grace shall
flourish; the green tree, deserted by the dew of heaven, shall dry up.
The low tree, fostered by the husbandman, shall mount even to the
stars; the high tree, cut down by the axe of judgment, shall lay
outstretched along the plains of ruin for ever.

I think I see the last great day. There is a greater forest than this;
this is but one corner of it. I see that forest stretched over sea and
land, over mountain and valley. It is a forest of men. There stand the
Pharisees, the self-righteous, the tyrants, the autocrats of haughty
mien, the men of profound intellect with lofty brows, the men that
questioned God's government; the infidels who said "Atheos," and denied
his being. I see the high trees, that towered to such an elevation, and
attracted so much admiration; and there, too, are the low trees
contented to he low, for Christ of Nazareth was lowly. He, whose
disciples they are, came riding on an ass even in the day of his
highest earthly triumph. And now I hear the trumpet ring exceeding loud
and long. Through the glades of that vast human forest the sound comes
ringing broad and clear, "Smite! smite! smite! and let all the high
trees fall!" O God, what a crash!

He smote great kings and slew famous kings; for his mercy endureth for
ever. He smites. What! another crash? The orthodox who rested in their
orthodoxy, and the self-righteous men and women fall there; yonder the
philosophic atheist, and here the scoffing sceptic; there the haughty
persecutor, and there, again, the pompous priest and pretentious
ceremonialist. Gather them; in Tophet, ordained of old, pile them
together, cedar upon oak, and elm upon fir, gather them together. pile
them on, pile them up; let the breath of the Lord, like a stream of
brimstone, come upon the mighty pile. It is the funeral pyre of the
giants. There lies the dead body of sin, and here comes the living
spouse of sin, to be immolated upon that same pile. Her name is Pride.
She comes; they clasp. The great transgression and the evil
imagination, together they lie down, and the flames arise. Now the
cedars, full of resin, give forth their flame, the sparks go up to
heaven, and the flames even unto the throne of God, whilst I hear the
voices of multitudes singing, "Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! for
thou hast judged the great temptress, even Pride, and thou hast given
her up to be burned with fire!" But what of you, what of you, that will
be faggots to that great burning? What of you, proud sons of men, that
will be fuel to that flame? Turn ye, turn ye! Fly ye to Christ, and
then you shall stand in the judgment, and join in the anthem,
"Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" "Be wise now therefore, O ye
kings; be instructed, ye judges of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear,
and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the son, lest he be angry, and ye
perish from the way when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are
all they that put their trust in him." Oh! that we all may be found
among the humble–not the haughty–in our present life, and that we may
be gathered among the blessed, not destroyed among those whom the Lord
abhorreth, in our future destiny!