Song of Solomon 2:13

The vines with the tender grape give a good smell

The tender grapes

The vine is of all trees the most useless unless it bears fruit.

You cannot make hardly anything of it; you would scarcely be able to cut enough wood out of a vine to hang a pot upon; you cannot turn it into furniture, and barely could you use it in the least degree for building purposes. It must either bear fruit, or else it must be consumed in the fire. You all know that there is no possibility of bringing forth any fruit except we are in Christ, and except we abide in Christ. We must bear fruit, or we shall certainly perish; and we cannot have fruit unless we be knit to Christ, vitally one with him, just as a branch is really, after a living fashion, one with the stem. It would be no use to tie a branch to the stem of the vine; that would not cause it to bring forth fruit. It must be joined to it in a living union, so must you and I be livingly joined to Christ. I think I hear some one say, “I hope I have begun to bring forth some fruit, but it is very little in quantity, and it is of very poor quality; and I do not suppose that the Lord Jesus will hardly stoop to notice it.” Well, now, listen to what the text says; It is the heavenly Bride-groom, it is Christ Himself, who, in this Song, speaks to His spouse, and bids her come into the vineyard, and look about her. For, saith He, “The vines with the tender grape give a good smell.” So, you see, there was some fruit, though it could only be spoken of as “the tender grape.” Some read the passage, “The vines in blossom give forth fragrance”; others think it refers to the grape just as it begins to form. It was a poor little thing, but the Lord of the vineyard was the first to spy it out; and if there is any little fruit unto God upon any one, our Lord Jesus Christ can see it. Though the berry be scarcely formed, though it be only like a flower which has just begun to knit, He can see the fruit, and He delights in that fruit.

I. First, then, what are these tender grapes? What are these first fruits of the Spirit of God?

1. One of the first tender grapes that we spy out on living branches of the true Vine is, a secret mourning for sin, and very often, an open mourning, too. The man is no longer the jovial, light-headed, dare-devil sort of fellow that he was. He has found out that his life has not been right in the sight of God; he has become conscious that he has done much that is altogether wrong, and that he has left undone a thousand things which he ought to have done, and he feels heavy of heart, and sad in spirit. Whenever he sees his sin, it grieves him; and be is grieved because he does not grieve more than he does. This is a crop that will ripen and sweeten before long. Surely, never was there a truly gracious soul who did not put forth this as one of the firstfruits of the Spirit, a secret mourning for sin.

2. Another tender grape is, a humble faith in Jesus Christ. That little trembling faith is one of the tender grapes. It will grow, it will come to perfection in due time, for the least true faith has everlasting life in it.

3. Then there comes another tender grape, and that is, a genuine change of life. The man has evidently turned right about; he is not looking the way he used to look, and he is not living as he used to live. At first he fails, and perhaps fails a good many times, like a child who is learning to walk, and has many a tumble; but it will never walk if it does not tumble a bit. So, when men begin to live the new life, they have many slips. They thought that ugly temper of theirs would never rise again, hut it does, and it grieves them very much; and some old habit, from which they thought they had clean escaped, entangles them unawares, and they say. “Surely I cannot be a child of God if I do these things again; and there is great brokenness of spirit, and soul-humbling. Well, that very soul-humbling is a tender grape. That effort to do better--not in your own strength, because you have none, and you are sure to fail utterly if you attempt such a task alone; but the effort to do better in the strength of God, yet with the full consciousness of your own weakness,--all that indicates a real change.

4. Another very blessed fruit of spiritual life in the soul is, secret devotion. The man never prayed before; he went sometimes to a place of worship, but he did not care much about it. Now, you see that he tries to get alone for private prayer as often as he can. “Behold, he prayeth,” is an indication that God has renewed his heart.

5. Another of these tender grapes is an eager desire for more grace, a longing for more of the good things of the covenant.

6. There is also, in such persons, another very precious sign of grace, and that is, a simple love to Jesus. The heart knows little, but it loves much; the understanding is not yet fully enlightened, but the affections are all on fire.

II. What is the Lord’s estimate of these tender grapes?

1. Well, first, He thinks so much of it that He calls His Church to come and look at it (Song of Solomon 2:10). We do not usually call our friends to look at things which we do not ourselves admire; so here the Bridegroom calls His spouse to share in His joy in these tokens of the heavenly life of the Church of God. Be always on the look-out for the tender grapes. “Ah!” says one, “that young man does not know much.” Does he know that one thing, whereas he was blind, now he can see? Then, be thankful that he knows as much as that. “Oh!” you exclaim, “but he has not much prudence.” No; do you suppose that this young man is to have as much prudence as you have at your age, and you are perhaps sixty or seventy? I might possibly say with truth that you have not quite so much zeal as you might have to go with your prudence. “Oh, but!” you say, “we want the young man to be more mature.” Give him time, and he will get as mature as you are; but while the grapes are still tender, your Master and his calls you to look at them, and to thank Him for them, for there is something very cheering in the sight of the first weak, faint tokens of the working of the Holy Spirit in the soul of a young believer.

2. What is Christ’s estimate of these tender grapes? Why, next, He calls them tender, tie might have called them sour, but He does not; He calls them “tender. He likes to use a sweet word, you see, the softest and best word that He can use; so when you describe a young convert, my dear brother, do not at once point out his immaturity, but call him “tender.”

3. Then He says something more: “The vines with the tender grape give a good smell.” Of what do they smell?

(1) Well, first, they smell of sincerity.

(2) Next, there is about these young believers a sweet smell of heartiness.

(3) There is sure to be also about these young Christians the sweet smell of zeal; and, whatever may be said against zeal, I will take up the cudgels for it as long as I live. In the work of God, we cannot do without fire.

(4) These young believers have another sweet smell: they are teachable, ready to learn, willing to be taught from the Scriptures and from those whose instructions God blesses to their souls.

(5) There is also another delicious smell about them, and that is, they are generally very joyful. I wish that we could catch the sweet contagion of the early joy of those who have just found the Saviour. There is something delightful in all joy when it is joy in the Lord, but there is a special brightness about the delight of those who are newly converted.

III. What is the danger to these tender grapes? (See Song of Solomon 2:15). In the spiritual vineyard there are “foxes” of many kinds.

1. There is, first, the hard censurer. He will spoil the vines, if he can, and especially the vines that have the tender grapes. He finds fault with everything that he can see in you who are but young believers. May God deliver you from these cruel foxes! He will often do so by enabling you not to mind them. After all, this is only the way in which all Christians have been tried, there is nothing strange in your experience from these censurers; and they are not your judges, you will not be condemned because they condemn you. Go and do your best in the service of your Lord; trust in Christ, and do not mind what they say; and you will be delivered from that kind of fox.

2. A worse fox even than that one, however, is the flatterer. He comes to you smiling and smirking, and he begins to express his approval of your religion, and very likely tells you what a fine fellow you are. Indeed, you are so good that he thinks you are rather too precise, you have gone a little over the line! Get away from that fox at once. The man who tells you that you are too precise ought to be precisely told that you do not want company. There never lived a man yet who was too holy, and there never will live a man who will imitate Christ too closely, or avoid sin too rigidly.

3. Then there comes another foul fox, Mr. Worldly-wiseman. He says, “You are a Christian, but do not be a fool. Carry your religion as far as you can make it pay; but if it comes to losing anything by it, well then, don’t you do it. You see, this practice is the custom of the trade; it is not right, I know, but still, other people do it, and you ought to do it. If you do not, you will never get on in business.” I know that there are many young people who, unless they are watchful and careful at the very beginning of their spiritual life, will get lamed, and never walk as they ought to do, because this fox has bitten them.

4. There is another ugly fox about, and that is, a doubting fox. He comes and says, “You seem very happy, and very joyful; but is it true? You appear to have become quite a different person from what you used to be; but is there, after all, such a thing as conversion?”

5. There are some foxes of evil doctrine, and they generally try to spoil our young people. Do not any of you young people be carried away with the notion that all the learned men are heretics; it is very largely the reverse, and it is your sham, shallow philosopher who goes running after heresy. Get out of the way of that fox, or else he will do much mischief to the tender grapes. (C. H. Spurgeon.)