None eye pitied thee, to do any of these unto thee, to have compassion upon thee.
Ezekiel’s deserted infant
I. A survey of the misery of man’s estate. The verse presents to us an infant exposed to die. All the common offices that were necessary for its life and health have been forgotten.
1. At the very first glance, we remark, here is an early ruin. It is an infant. A thousand sorrows that one so young should be so deeply taught in misery’s school! It is an infant; it has not yet tasted joy, but yet it knoweth pain and sorrow to the full. How early art thou blasted, O sweet flower! From the very birth we go astray, speaking lies, and in the very birth we lie under the condemnation of the law of God.
2. The next very apparent teaching of the text is utter inability. It is an infant--what can it do for itself? Not even clay on the potter’s wheel is more helpless than this infant as it now lies cast out in the open field. Such is human nature; it can by no means help towards its own restoration. But, mark you, and this is a thought that may crush our boastings and make us hang our head like a bulrush evermore--this inability is our own sin.
3. Apparent, too, is yet a third misfortune--we are utterly friendless. “None eye pitied thee, to do any of these things unto thee.” We have no friend in heaven or in earth that can do aught for us, unless God shall interpose. Weep and lament your kinsfolk may for you, but no lamentation can make an atonement for your sins, no human tears can cleanse your filthiness, no Christian zeal can clothe you with righteousness, no yearning love can sanctify your nature.
4. Furthermore, our text very clearly reveals to us that we are by nature in a sad state of exposure. Cast out into the open field, left in a wilderness where it is not likely that any should pass by, thrown where the cold can smite by night and the heat can blast by day, left where the wild beast goeth about, seeking whom he may devour--such is the estate of human nature: unclothed, unarmed, helpless, exposed to all manner of ravenous destroyers. O Lord God, Thou alone knowest the awful dangers which prowl around an unregenerate man; what mischiefs waylay him; what crimes beset him; what follies haunt him.
5. It seems that this child, besides being in this exposed state, was loathsome. “Thou wast cast out to the loathing of thy person.” It was in such a condition that the sight of it was disgusting, and its person was so destitute of all comeliness that it was absolutely loathed. Such is man by nature.
6. We close this fearful description by observing the certain ruin to which this infant was exposed, as setting forth the sure destruction of every man if grace prevent not.
II. We are now to search for motives for God’s grace, and we have a very difficult search before us when we look to this infant which is cast out, because its loathsomeness and its being covered with its own blood, forbid us at once to hope that there can be anything in it which can merit the esteem of the merciful One. Let us think of some of the motives which may urge men to assist the undeserving.
1. One of the first would be, necessity. Not a few are placed in such a position that they could not well refuse to give their help when it is asked of them. But no necessity can ever affect the Most High. The first of all causes must be absolutely independent of every other cause. Who dictateth counsel to the Most High? Who sits at His bar, and giveth Him advice and warning, and maketh Him do according to his pleasure? Nor had God any necessity in order to make Himself happy or to increase His glory.
2. In this case there was nothing in the birth of this child, in its original parentage, that could move the passer-by. You were conceived in sin, and stained in your very birth, and there is, therefore, nothing here that could move the heart of Deity.
3. Nor was there anything in this child’s beauty, for it was loathsome. What can there be in a worm to gratify the Almighty?
4. Furthermore, as we have found no motive yet, either in necessity or the child’s birth or beauty, so we find none in any entreaties that were uttered by this child. It doth not seem that it pleaded with the passer-by to save it, for it could not as yet speak. So, though sinners do pray, yet when a sinner prays, it is because God has begun to save him.
5. Yet, further, it does not appear that the pity of the passer-by was shown upon this child because of any future service which was expected of it. This child, it seems, was nourished, clothed, luxuriously decorated; and yet, after all that, if you read the chapter through, you will find it went astray from Him who had set His heart upon it. The Lord foresaw this, and yet” loved that child notwithstanding.
III. But now consider the mandate of his mercy. “I said unto thee, Live.”
I. This fiat of God is majestic. He looks, and there lies an infant, loathsome in its blood; He stops, and He pronounces the word, the royal word “Live.” There speaks a God. Who but He could venture thus to deal with life and dispense it with a single syllable? ‘Tis majestic, ‘tis Divine!
2. This fiat is manifold.
(1) Here is judicial life.
(2) It is, moreover, spiritual life.
3. It is an irresistible voice. When God says to a sinner, “Live,” all the devils in hell cannot keep him in the grave.
4. It is all-sufficient. “Live,” dost Thou say, great God? Why, the man is dead! There is life--not in him, but in the voice that bids him live. “Live,” dost Thou say? “By this time he stinketh, for he hath been dead four days!” There is power--not in his corruption, but in the voice that crieth, “Come forth!”
5. It was a mandate of free grace. I want to lay that down again, and again, and again, that there was nothing in this infant, nothing but loathsomeness, nothing therefore to merit esteem; nothing in the infant, but inability, nothing therefore by which it could help itself; nothing in it but infancy, nothing therefore by which it could plead for itself, and yet grace said, “Live”--freely, without any bribe, without any entreaty, said, “Live.” And so when sinners are saved, it is only and solely because God will do it, to magnify His free, unpurchased, unsought grace. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
The allegory of the foundling child
Though marked by a breadth which offends against modern taste, the allegory of the foundling child which became the faithless wife is powerful, and, when the details are forgotten and only the general idea kept in mind, even beautiful, as well as true. An outcast infant, exposed in the open field and weltering in her blood, was seen by the pitying eye of a passer-by. Rescued and nourished, she grew up to the fairest womanhood, and became the wife of her benefactor, who heaped on her every gift that could please or elevate. But the ways into which he led her were too lofty to be understood, and the atmosphere around too pure for her to breathe; the old inborn nature (her father was an Amorite and her mother a Hittite) was still there beneath all the refinements for which it had no taste, and at last it asserted itself in shameless depravity and insatiable lewdness. (A. B. Davidson, D. D.)
The first step for man’s salvation taken by God
I know some think that the sinner takes the first step, but, we know better. If he did, it were like the old Romish miracle of St. Dennis, where we are told that after his head was off, he picked it up and walked two thousand miles with it in his hand. Whereupon, some wit observed that he did not see any wonder in the man’s walking two thousand miles, for all the difficulty lay in the first step. Just so, I see no difficulty in a man’s getting all the way to heaven if he can but take the first step; for all the miracle lies in that first step--the making the dead soul live, the melting the adamantine heart, the thawing of the northern ice, the bringing down of the proud look--this is the work, this is the difficulty; and if man can do that himself, verily he can do the whole. But when God looketh upon men to save them, it is not because they cry to Him, for they never do and never will cry until the work of salvation is begun. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
I said unto thee,.. .Live.
Spiritual life
I. The miracle of grace performed. As everything in the Bible is a parable to an unregenerate man, so everything in Christian experience is a miracle wrought by the hand of God. What! is it not a miracle, to vanquish Satan and take the prey out of his hands--to “take the prey from the mighty and the captive from the terrible”? Is it not a miracle to unstop deaf ears? Is it not a miracle to raise the dead, and give them another, a new and deathless life and existence? Jehovah not only speaks into life at first--speaks it into pre-existence, if I may so express it--animating, quickening,--and then causing to grow, “that they may have life, and have it more abundantly”; but it is His also to speak life to the soul in the most exalted sense, consummating it in the life of glory. “Live!” I think, strictly speaking, in the literal sense of the word we can hardly be said to live till we get to the world of glory. And what some people call dying, I think is just Jehovah saying to the souls of His people, Live. We have hardly begun to live yet; here we have much to do with the old Adam nature, much to do with corruption, much to do with the things that mar our enjoyment and our life, so that we live at a “poor dying rate”; but, oh! the blessedness of that moment, when all that is earthly, all that pertains to time, shall be shaken off, and by one sweet sovereign command--one gracious, kind, paternal word--Jehovah shall say, Live; and we shall pass from our deathy clay hut to the world of spirits, and live everlastingly with Himself.
II. An epitome of spiritual experience. You may have a religion of education--and yet none of God; you may have a religion of natural feeling, natural passions--and yet none of God; you may have a religion of alarm, and be terribly frightened about going to hell--but none of God; you may have a religion of supposed joy, natural passions moved and somewhat inflamed, which perhaps may be exhibited in the style of the book you read or the eloquence you listen to--and yet none of God. All these will leave you deficient. Nothing will do but a spiritual existence. The man of the world has a natural existence, a mental existence, a rational existence, which makes him differ from the brute creation; but a real Christian has, in addition to this, spiritual existence, a heavenly life--the persons and perfections of Deity dwelling in His soul--a new creation--another, a holy, a sinless principle--the life of God--called the participation of the Divine nature. A worldling may appear like a Christian among Christians; but let him loose, and his whole heart is in the world immediately. A Christian may have to mix with the men of the world in worldly business; but let him loose, and you see in a moment that his soul has a spiritual being. This spiritual existence is the epitome of godliness. It is communicated by a word from the throne--by a touch of Jehovah’s hand, by the voice of Christ, by the whisper of the Spirit. Moreover, it is immortal. I pass on, just to notice that this spiritual existence is known by the spiritual negotiations it keeps up. If I have nothing to do for God, the devil will be sure to find me something to do for him. The very nature of life is to be active. If it be animal life, it must try to move and walk and run; if it be mental life, it must find some object to pursue, something to hear or read, something to call it forth. So with spiritual life; it must have its activity called forth into exercise.
III. The testimony of Divine prerogative. Jehovah says, “Live.” I hear nothing in this of “I will if he will”; I see nothing of proposal, nothing of overture, nothing of an offer, nothing of a condition in all this. I know there are not a few who would have us deal with mankind, treat with sinners, as if they had a power--as if they had a capacity for spiritual things--as if they had a spiritual work to perform. I confess I have little heart--I have no heart at all for this, because I never saw an instance of its success. Find me one instance in which a sinner ever began to inquire after Christ, or knew anything about a spiritual emotion, until God had said, “Live.” I will yield the point. The Son of God took this prerogative upon Himself, when, tabernacling in the likeness of sinful flesh, He went up to the widow’s son as they carried him out of the city of Nain, touched the bier, and called the young man to life again; to the no small comfort of his mother. He pursued the same course, and assumed the same prerogative, when Lazarus had lain four days in the grave. And to this hour the same prerogative is exercised by the Son of God, as well as by the Father. Moreover, of the Holy Ghost it is said, “It is the Spirit that quickeneth.” So that Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are concerned in the resurrection of the sinner, as well as (as we showed the other morning) in the resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ. One thing more I just invite your attention to: while our covenant God exercises His sovereignty in calling sinners out of darkness into light and the dead into life, what a revenue of praise belongs to His holy name! (J. Irons.)
The life of souls the ordinance of God
How manifold, how great, are the works of our God! How curious, various, and vast are the forms of dead matter! Think of earths, stones, metals, waters, clouds, and all the same matter combined, modified in endless variety. Ascend one step higher, and think of the organised matter which constitutes the living verdure of our world. Ascend another step, and survey for a moment the countless tribes of beings animate. Who can number the birds that fill the air, to say nothing of insects? Think of the cattle of our home fields, the game of our woods, and the wild beasts of far-off deserts and forests, to say nothing of reptiles. Think too of the vaster seas and of the innumerable fishes, from the whale to animalcule. We lift our eyes to the heavens, and our earth, huge as it is, and much as it contains, is but as a particle of dust, or as a drop filling a bucket. Shoals of planets greater than ours are over our heads, and even suns stand crowded there as thick as forest leaves. What a universe! What a God is ours! But how instructive is the relation between man and the all things of God! Man has an eye to look abroad upon all, and to read all, and he has a spirit to conceive and adore the God who is over all. Indeed, the all things of our God are only the ladder which aids man to climb to the feet of God. When I think that man is not only elevated to bow with the ranks of prostrate angels at the feet of their God, but that he is the immediate minister of the high and lofty One, that the God of eternity is literally achieving His grandest purposes by the agency of man, I am struck dumb with amazement!
I. What, then, is our office? Interesting, most animating, as it would be to be the instrumental cause of awakening nature into new life and beauty, it is less animating than our real work. Sublime as it would be to go forth awakening the dead, it is less sublime than the actual ministry committed to us. But our work is so old that we forget its grandeur. So the grandeur of the universe is slighted because suns and moons and stars are stale things, and, as stale things, are sure to be deserted for the sake of a few fireworks. The greatest change in nature--that from mid-winter to mid-summer, is but a physical change, a change in the mode of matter. Matter is therefore the agent which effects this; sun, rain, and dew are the servants of God in this work. And to call forth the bodies of men from their graves is a work very inferior to that of awakening souls to the life of God. “The former work has no glory by reason of the glory which excelleth.” If our office is an office in relation to souls, then we have to do with the highest of all forms of existence. The souls of our world are desolate and dead as winter: it is the will of God that a springtime should be brought out in their history, that they should become verdant and flourishing as the garden of the Lord. Piety is ever-living verdure, and the graces of piety are never-withering flowers. Instrumentally to call forth these from human souls is the ministry committed to our hands. In a word, our ministry is a ministry of life to the dead--not to dead matter, nor to dead bodies, but to souls dead in sin.
II. There are souls dead!
1. Men are ignorant of the nature of their souls. Truly they know not what souls are, or they would perceive at once that there is no adaptation between money and souls, between sensual pleasures and souls and they would be at least uneasy that there is nothing in the wide world suited to enrich and bless the soul. Then, if souls know not their own nature, it is not too strong a figure to speak of them as dead.
2. The souls of men are not fulfilling the end of their being. Their affections are not excited; their powers are not developed; their energies are not devoted to truth, to excellence; their thoughts do not soar away in contemplation of the infinite and the eternal; their affections do not embrace the God of love; eternity is before them, but they are making no preparation; they are laying no foundation for the time to come.
3. The souls of men are strangers to the peculiar joys of their being. Every distinct order of creatures has its peculiar pleasures: insects have their pleasures, birds have their pleasures, the cattle of the field have their pleasures, and souls have their pleasures; but of all these creatures the souls of men only are alienated from, and indifferent to, their own peculiar delights. The difference between the joys of angelic minds and those of human minds consists in this, that angels are in the full and constant fruition of the proper bliss of souls; but human souls are cut off from it, if dead to this bliss; so that, without inconsistency or exaggeration, we may speak of the state of human souls under the figure of death, and of their conversion to God as a passing from death unto life. And the peculiar characteristic of the Gospel is, that it is a ministration of life to souls, immortal souls dead in sin.
III. As the servants of the Gospel, the cry of our ministry is, live! O souls! as servants of our God and your God, our business is with you. If you carry on no commerce with your Maker, if your thoughts and affections rise not to contemplate and embrace things hidden and Divine, you are strangers to the high and joyous life of souls. In your bodies there may be life, but in your souls there is death, which will become eternal death unless it be soon plucked out of your spirits. By the will of God the ministry of life is now in exercise in your presence, the design of which is to abolish death, to exterminate death’s empire without you, and to plant in its room the principles of life and immortality. But how are we to exercise this ministry? Our text cries, Live! Are we then to reiterate the cry, Live! Live! to the dying souls who may be within the sound of our voice? No; but we are to employ those means which God has instituted for the very purpose of awakening within you a life unto God. This is our ministry. We are charged by God to call upon you to repent, to sue for mercy, and solemnly declare to you that not to repent is to perish. We are to tell you that He who knew no sin died for your sins, and that, therefore, life, eternal life, is offered to you through His death. (J. Pulsford, D. D.)