Therefore, behold, I will hedge up thy way with thorns.
Divine restraints
God puts forth restraints on the sinner here.
I. these restraints are manifold. “I will hedge up thy way with thorns, and make a wall.” The first metaphor is taken from a husbandman who to prevent the cattle from breaking away plants a prickly hedge. The ether is taken from architecture. If the thorns are insufficient, high and massive walls must be built.
1. The restraint of affliction.
2. The restraint of public sentiment. The most daring cower before the public voice.
3. The restraint of conscience. A Divine officer holding the sinner in.
II. These restraints are necessary.
1. For the sinner himself. Were it not for these he would go galloping to perdition.
2. For the world. What would become of the world if the wicked were not reined in?
3. For the Church. Had wicked men their full fling, how long would the Church last? Thank God for thorny hedges and massive walls, for all the restraints He puts on sinful men. (Homilist.)
Thorns and wall
A way may be found through a hedge of thorns, although with pain and suffering’; through a stone wall even a strong man cannot burst a way. Thorns may mean the pains to the flesh with which God visits sinful pleasures, so that the soul, if it would break through to them, is held back and torn; the wall may mean, that all such sinful joys shall be cut off altogether, as by bereavement, poverty, sickness, failure of plans, etc. (E. B. Pusey, D. D.)
Blessings from apparent evils
The idea of disease being a messenger, or under orders from God, has long been a familiar one. Ancient history tells of a merchant who lost his all in a storm at sea, in which his vessels laden with merchandise foundered. The merchant went to Athens to study philosophy, having no capital to resume business. He was so happy in his studies that he was thankful for his losses. “If God had not taken away my fortune,” he said, “I had not gained that which is far better.”
The benefit of difficulty
A few days since there came to me a man whom I had known many years before as a person of good character, and who had made and saved money in business. He had been led to invest his savings in a partnership which had every guarantee of respectability and trustworthiness, but which within a few weeks became bankrupt, and left him not merely without a penny, but responsible for heavy debts. This happened some two years since; and for some time it was a question whether he and his large family must not go to the workhouse. In order to feed and clothe them he had to take to manual labour by day and by night at a very small remuneration; and since then things have somewhat bettered with him, though he is still a very poor man, instead of being, as he was, in very easy circumstances. But he said to me: “I would not for the world, sir, have it otherwise. My troubles have been nay greatest blessing in my whole life.” And then he reminded me how he had had a religious education, and he told me how he had forgotten God in his years of prosperity, and how he had been driven back upon God as his hope and refuge, and had found in Him more, much more, than he had lost in earthly things. His religious duties, prayer, the Bible, the Holy Communion, all had been forgotten, all had again been resumed, and with a sense of the truest support and strength. (Canon Liddon.)
Thankful for a thorn
Dr. George Matheson, of Scotland, is totally blind. He is one of the most learned and gifted men, and, above all, a cheerful and happy-hearted Christian. The following touching words from his pen ought to strengthen the Christian patience of afflicted ones: “My God, I have never thanked Thee for my thorn. I have thanked Thee a thousand times for my roses, but not once for my thorn. I have been looking forward to a world where I shall get compensation for my cross, but I have never thought of my cross as itself a present glory. Thou Divine Love, whose human path has been perfected through sufferings, teach me the glory of my cross; teach me the value of my thorn. Show me that I have climbed to Thee by the path of pain. Show me that my tears have made my rainbow. Reveal to me that my strength was the product of the hour when I wrestled until the break of day. Then shall I know that my thorn was blessed by Thee; then shall I know that my cross was a gift from Thee. I shall raise a monument to the hour of my sorrow, and the words which I shall write upon it will be these: ‘It is good for me that I have been afflicted.’”
She shall follow after her lovers, but she shall not overtake them.--
The warning lesson of Israel’s apostacy
Hosea, who lived in a corrupt age of the Israelitish Church, was commissioned to show forth, with great faithfulness and plainness of speech, the gross departures of that people from the laws and service of God, and at the same time to exhibit the mingled actings of judgment and mercy wherewith God would visit His people.
I. The sin of Israel. Their sin was departing from the Lord, and going after forbidden sources of dependence, and forbidden objects of desire. We need not a more striking proof of the depravity of man’s heart universally, than we find in this ungrateful conduct of Israel. The manner in which their sin is set forth is peculiarly striking. They are represented in the character of an unfaithful wife toward the most tender and affectionate husband. There is scarcely anything affects a well-regulated mind more painfully than an instance of unfaithfulness on the part of a beloved wife towards an affectionate husband. It excites in our minds mingled emotions of pity, sorrow, and indignation. How deeply should we feel the dishonour done to God by the unfaithfulness of Israel, and-how humbling a lesson should we learn of the depraved nature of our own hearts! The sin of Israel was summed up in this: departing from the God of love--setting at nought the love of God. This is our sin, nationally and individually. We have our national idols; we have our personal idols. The condition of Israel further represents the case of those who have had some experience of the love of God, yet forsake the guide of their youth, and become entangled with the world.
II. The chastisement of Israel. God’s forbearance and long-suffering with His people was very great. He was continually provoked to anger by their evil doings, but nevertheless He bare long with them. But the time came when it was necessary to throw obstacles in the way of their idolatry, and so hinder the accomplishment of their desires after worldly enjoyments, that they should be like persons hedged in with thorns and briars. This time came with the Captivity. The instruction of this fact belongs to us specially as a nation whom God has signally blessed with the pure light of Gospel truth. It is not, however, to be limited to God’s chastisement of nations. It applies to those amongst us who have been personally convinced of sin, and of our need of such a Saviour as Jesus. God’s rule of dealing with us is the same as with nations. God will make us feel the bitterness of sin. If ever you are saved, it shall be by first bringing you through the deep waters of soul affliction for sin. You must see yourself hedged in by the greatness and the number of your sins. It is a merciful chastisement which makes us feel the utter vanity of things of time and sense.
III. The blessed consequences of the chastisement. As regards us individually, God’s dealings with Israel find a perfect parallel. All the chastisements for sin issue in nearness to God, and peaceful communion with God, and holy confidence in His love. (James Cooper, M. A.)
Worldly pleasure, a vain pursuit
What has been the experience of every man, of every woman, that has tried this world for a portion? Queen Elizabeth, amidst the surroundings of pomp, is unhappy because the painter sketches too minutely the wrinkles on her face, and she indignantly cries out, “You must strike off my likeness without any shadows!” Hogarth, at the very height of his artistic triumph, is stung almost to death with chagrin because the painting he had dedicated to the king does not seem to be acceptable; for George II. cries out, “Who is this Hogarth? Take this trumpery out of my presence!” Brinsley Sheridan, of thrilling eloquence, had for his last words, “I am absolutely undone!” Stephen Girard, the wealthiest man in his day, or, at any rate, only second in wealth, says, “I live the life of a galley-slave; when I arise in the morning my one effort is to work so hard that I can sleep when it gets to be night.” Charles Lamb, applauded of all the world, in the very midst of his literary triumph, says, “Do you remember, Bridget, when we used to laugh from the shilling gallery at the play? There are now no good plays to laugh at from the boxes.” But why go so far as that? I need go no farther than your street, and possibly your own house, to find an illustration. (T. De Witt Talmage.)
Then shall she say, I will go and return to my first husband; for then was it better with me than now.
The design of affliction
Since we derive our knowledge through the medium of the senses, only by the aid of figurative language can spiritual truths forcibly lay hold of the mind. Nothing is more common in the prophecies than to express the relation between God and the Jews of old by the alliance of marriage. He was considered as their husband; hence they were laid under peculiar obligations to Him; and hence their sins had the character of violating the marriage-contract. Because of their unfaithfulness, calamities befell them. But while these were the effects of sin, they were also the means of bringing them to a proper state of mind. They are therefore considered eventually as mercies. The hedge here spoken of is the hedge of affliction, composed of some of those thorns and briars which sin has so plentifully produced in this wilderness world. The metaphor is taken from the husbandman, who, to keep his cattle in the pasture, and prevent their going astray, fences them in; and the sharper the hedge the better. Thus God resolves to make our rovings difficult. If we will go astray, we must smart for it. If lighter afflictions fail of their end, God will employ heavier. They may be foolhardy enough to break through the thorns, and may go on though wounded and bleeding, but they shall not get “over the wall”--I have stones as well as brambles--I will present insuperable difficulties. What a variety of troubles God has to dispose of. The passage reminds us--
I. Of our depravity. It appears in our proneness to go astray. We transfer to the creature those regards which are duo only to the Creator. We make earthly things our idols. These draw away our hearts from God. Let us not deceive ourselves, and judge of our declensions only by gross acts, but by the state of our minds. Where no vices have appeared in the life, there may have been many deviations from God in our thoughts and affections and pursuits.
II. Of the Divine goodness and care. He employs means, various means, to hinder and to reclaim us. Why all these expedients? Is it because He stands in need of us? Nay, but because we stand in need of Him; because He would not have us deceived, ensnared, destroyed.
III. Of the benefit of affliction.
1. Afflictions are designed to be trials. Let our earthly blessings be removed, and our reliance will quickly appear. If our dependence has been on them, we sink when they are removed.
2. Afflictions are excitements. They quicken to the exercise of grace, and to the performance of duty. When we become indifferent to communion with God, He will send some fiery trial to bring us to our knees.
3. Afflictions are spiritual preventions,--they are “to keep man from his purpose.” Disappointments in favourite wishes are trying, and we are not always wise enough to recollect--that disappointments in time are often the means of preventing disappointments in eternity. It is a most singular mercy for God to render the pursuit of sin difficult. If we are going astray--is it not better to have the road filled with thorns than strewed with flowers? There are some who are now rejoicing because their plans succeed, and everything favours their wishes, who, if they knew all, would see awful reason to weep and mourn. And there are others, who, if they knew all, would no longer be sorrowful because they cannot advance, but are checked in every path they tread. They would see that they are chastened of the Lord, that they may not be condemned with the world. How awful is it when afflictions are useless, and even medicine is administered in vain!
IV. Of the difference there is between our adhering to God and our forsaking him. Behold the declining Christian, seduced by the world. He would try deviating ways for himself. And God says, “Let him try,”--“that he may know My service, and the service of the kingdoms of the countries.” By and by, he begins to bethink himself, and compare the present with the past, and is miserable. Let those who have been led astray, and have fallen by their iniquity, consider the melancholy change that has taken place in their experience, and remember two things--
1. It cannot be better with them than it is until they return to God.
2. They should, in returning, guard against that despondency which would tell you that it will be in vain. Have any of you been restored? Turn not again to folly. Live near to God; your welfare depends upon it. (William Jay.)
The first husband
I. A resolution formed.
1. The marriage union. In such an union we look for the consent of the parties; reciprocal affection, harmony of interest, and oneness of spirit.
2. A violation of this union acknowledged. “I will go and return” is an indirect confession of unfaithfulness, due to a culpable inattention to Divine instruction, to a forgetfulness of the Divine law. It is evinced by forming attachments to other objects, and by a violation of their covenant with God.
3. A purpose to renew this union avowed. This purpose was rationally founded, was absolutely expressed, practically to be exemplified.
II. A reason expressed upon which this resolution is founded. Self-love is a powerful principle; it is the main-spring of human actions. The doctrine of, the text is, that fidelity to God is relatively” better than apostasy from Him; better in itself, and better for me.
1. As it is more honourable.
2. As it is more comfortable.
3. As it is more safe.
Infer from this subject--
1. How much saints should prize their privileges; how thankful they should be for them, and how careful not to forfeit them by stretching out their hands to a strange god.
2. The folly of apostates, and the reasons they have for returning to their first husband. (G. Brooks.)
Returning to God
1. In times of affliction the only rest of the soul is to return to God.
2. So long as men can have anything in their sinful way to satisfy themselves with, they will not return to God.
3. Returning to God, if it be in truth, though it be after we have sought out all other helps, yet God is willing to accept.
4. A heart effectually wrought upon by God, is a resolute heart to return to God.
5. Those who have ever found the sweetness of Christ in their hearts, though they should be backsliders, have something remaining that will at length draw them to Him.
6. There must be a sight and an acknowledgment of our shameful folly, or else there can be no true returning to God.
7. Though acknowledgment must go before, returning must follow. (Jeremiah Burroughs.)
For then was it better with me than now.--
The way of simple faith best
There is a story told of Robert Robinson, the hymn-writer, which forcibly illustrates Browning’s words, “Stand back the man I am behind the man I used to be.” In his early ministry, Robinson, the Baptist minister at Cambridge, wrote that beautiful and well-known hymn--“Come, Thou Fount of every blessing.” In the latter part of his life, Robinson’s views of evangelical truth had changed, and he seemed to have lost a good deal of his spiritual fervour. Riding one day on a stage-coach, a lady, who was quite a stranger to him, entered into conversation. The subject of hymns came up, and she asked, little knowing that he was the author, what he thought of the hymn, “Come, Thou Fount of every blessing.” But he waived the subject, and turned her attention to some other topic; but, after a short period, she contrived to return to it, and described the benefits she had often derived from the hymn, and her strong admiration of its sentiments. At length, Robinson, entirely overcome by the power of his feelings, burst into tears, and said, “Madam, I am the poor, unhappy man who composed that hymn many years ago; and I would give a thousand worlds, if I had them, to enjoy the feelings I then had.” (A. Hampden Lee.)