|
30. I went by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding;
31. And, lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken down.
32. Then I saw, and considered it well: I looked upon it, and received instruction. {considered...: Heb. set my heart}
33. Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep:
34. So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth; and thy want as an armed man. {an...: Heb. a man of shield}
Everything around us reads an useful lesson to an observant eye. Every particle of creation may be taxed to furnish its quota to our store of knowledge. We can extract good even from evil, and “gather grapes of thorns, and figs of thistles.” Solomon describes with his usual vigor of thought and strength of coloring, and affecting sight, that had passed before his eyes — the field and vineyard of the slothful, grown over with thorns and nettles, and the wall utterly broken down. Instead of turning away, he considered it well, and received instruction. In the solemn contemplation of this picture of desolation, he could not but turn his thoughts to the wretched proprietor. He fancied himself in his house, beholding the sottish being stretched on his bed, and crying out under the noonday sun — Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep. Stimulated by this effusion of the torpid animal, the response almost unconsciously forced itself — So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man.
And yet by some strange delusion, the slothful conceives himself to be wise. (Chapter 26:16.) But how manifestly is he void of understanding; without heart to improve his many advantages! He might enrich himself by his field and vineyard. But he has never cultivated or weeded it. The stone wall, raised by some more industrious hand, is broken down; and he is too indolent to repair it. His vineyard is therefore left a prey to every invader; while he lives as a mere animal, in sensual indulgence, bringing himself gradually, but irresistibly, to poverty.† Not that he means to come to beggary. He only wants yet a little sleep, a little slumber more — and then he will bestir himself. But this little insensibly increases. Every hour's indulgence strengthens the habit, and chains the victim in hopeless bondage. His efforts for exertion are only the struggles of the paralytic, without energy or effectiveness. If his dependence is upon his own industry, manual or mental, sloth must hasten on his ruin. In a higher station, it deprives him of the means of using his influence aright, or of employing his talents to any valuable purpose. There is indeed no higher blessing than usefulness; no more affecting lamentation than that of the worn-out laborer, who is conscious that his usefulness is ended. But the slothful is satisfied, that his usefulness should never begin. He is content with a life of utter uselessness. He willfully gives himself up to it; as if indolence was his supreme good, and every kind of exercise the object of his shrinking dread. Such a life can never approve itself to conscience, and assuredly will never escape the condemnation of God. (See Matthew 25:26-36.) It is poverty to himself. He becomes his own enemy. The springs of solid happiness are impoverished, and the true end of life frittered away.
But let us look at the spiritual sluggard. If a neglected field is a melancholy sight, what is a neglected soul! a soul which, instead of being cultivated with the seeds of grace, is left to its own barrenness; overgrown with the native produce of thorns and nettles. (Genesis 3:18.) Time, talents, opportunities have been vouchsafed; perhaps the blessing of a godly education added, every encouragement for hopeful promise. But if diligence is needed; if the man must “labor and strive,”† then his field must be left, at least for the present. He must have a little more sleep first.† And thus he sleeps on, and shuts both eyes and ears against every disturbance of his fatal slumber. Nothing is done or attempted for God, for his own soul, or for his fellow-creatures. His vineyard is left open. All his good purposes are the stone wall broken down. Satan “goes out, and returns at his will.”† All is devastation and ruin.
Christian! is there no danger of this evil creeping into our religion? No habit is so ruinous. It enervates, and at length stops, the voice of prayer. It hinders the active energy of meditation. It weakens the influence of watchfulness. The way to heaven is steep, rough, hard to climb, immeasurably long, forbidding in its present exercise and doubtful in its end, full of toil and discouragement, devoid of beaming hope and sunshine. This false apprehension checks every step of progress; so that “the soul” — instead of being “a well-watered garden” (Jeremiah 31:12), sending forth refreshing fragrance and grateful fruits — relapses into its former wilderness state; laid open to every temptation; and too often ultimately a prey to sensual appetites.†
Let our Father's voice be instantly heard — “Son, go work today in thy vineyard.” (Matthew 21:28.) Dost thou not see, that it is overgrown with thorns? Look forward, not backward. Complain not, but decide. Pray not only, but strive. Always connect privilege with practice. Prove the principles of moral character, as well as spiritual experience. Aim at every active exercise, that may strengthen religious habits. ‘Surely, if we look to stand in the faith of the sons of God, we must hourly, continually, be providing, and setting ourselves to strive.’ It was not the meaning of our Lord and Savior in saying — “Father, keep them in thy name” — that we should be careless to keep ourselves. ‘To our own safety, our sedulity is required.’†
|