Jeremias 2:12-13

DISCOURSE: 1027
THE FOUNTAIN OF LIVING WATERS

Jeremias 2:12. Be astonished, O ye heavens, at this, and be horribly afraid, be ye very desolate, saith the Lord. For my people have committed two evils; they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.

RELIGION may be considered as of two kinds, theoretical and practical. In the term theoretical, I include every thing that is necessary to prove the truth of Christianity: and under the term practical, whatever is required of those who embrace it. To understand the theoretical part, is desirable; to perform the practical is necessary. The two kinds, however are not necessarily united: the theoretical may exist where the practical is disregarded; and the practical may exist, where the theoretical is unknown. Thousands of pious persons have neither leisure nor talent for collating manuscripts, or for weighing the evidences that may be adduced in favour of particular hypotheses: and to say that these cannot be religious, because they are wanting in critical acumen, would be as absurd as to say that a man cannot be honest, because he has not sufficient knowledge of the laws to be a judge. The unlettered Christian assumes the truth of Christianity; and he finds it true by its effects. And such persons may well refer to the effects, in proof of the truth of that religion which they profess. But it is one thing to refer to practical effects, and another to ground their faith on any transient feelings: This no man of reflection can do: the other, no man of piety can forbear. Feelings may be excited by erroneous notions, as well as by those which are just: but holiness, radical and universal holiness, can be produced by Christianity alone. We will appeal to all the religions that ever appeared upon the face of the earth, and ask, Whether any of them ever produced in their votaries such effects as were visible in Christ and his Apostles? The reason is plain: It is the Spirit of God who sanctifies: and he is promised to those only who believe in Christ: and consequently, his sanctifying energy, in its full extent at least, can be found in them alone. I grant that it would be wrong to rest the truth of our religion on that ground only; but surely it may properly be referred to, as an additional and corroborating proof of our religion. If this be not a proper test of our religion, whereby shall the superior excellency of Christianity be known? If the Bible produce no better effects than the Koran, I do not hesitate to say that it is no better than the Koran: but if its effects be such as no other religion can produce, then will those effects be, though not the only, yet a solid and important proof of our religion: and those who cannot enter into learned disquisitions about the credibility of the Scriptures, have reason to thank God that they have within themselves an evidence of the truth of Christianity, which the objections of infidels can never set aside [Note: The author does not mean, that this is the only evidence which unlearned men have of the Divine authority of the Bible. They, as well as the learned, have other grounds for their faith. They see the provision, which the Bible makes for their restoration to happiness, to be precisely such as their necessities required. They see also, that the purity of its commands has a wonderful tendency to elevate their nature, and to produce universal happiness: and these two things form in their minds a strong internal evidence of the Divine origin of the Bible; whilst the general and long-continued reception of that book amongst those who have spent their whole lives in investigating its authenticity, serves in their minds as a strong external evidence, that the Bible is really given by the inspiration of God. Nevertheless, their actual experience of a change of heart and life, wrought in them by the Bible, is to them a strong additional evidence of its Divine authority. Of course, this change cannot produce any conviction in the minds of others; because none but God and a man’s own conscience can know the full extent of that change.]. The error lies in confounding the two kinds of religion. They are distinct; and they should be kept so.

To enter deeply into the theory of religion, much strength of intellect, much general knowledge, and much patient investigation are requisite. To have just, and even enlarged, views of the practical part, little is wanting but a humble teachable mind, enlightened by the truths, and sanctified by the influence, of the Gospel of Christ. The former, when possessed in the highest degree, will consist with all manner of evil tempers, and evil habits: the latter necessarily involves in it a change both of heart and life. The former is of importance principally to those, whose office calls them to defend the outworks of Christianity against the assaults of infidels: the latter is essential to the happiness of every individual. To the former your mind is now directed from time to time, by a zealous and learned professor [Note: The Rev. Herbert Marsh, D. D. now The Right Rev. Lord Bishop of Peterborough, of St. John’s College, Lady Margaret’s Professor of Divinity; who was giving Public Lectures in the University Church, on the principal subjects connected with Theological Learning.], who is giving us the result of his own laborious researches, and commendably exerting his talents to promote amongst us the too much neglected study of sacred literature: to the latter, which we consider as more appropriate to the ordinary services of the Church, we would on the on the present occasion solicit your attention.

The subject which we would submit to your consideration, is a solemn charge, brought by God himself against his people of old. They were guilty of gross idolatry; and for that, in part, they are here reproved: the very heavens are summoned to bear witness against them, and to express with utter astonishment their abhorrence of such impiety. But another complaint against them was, that, in their straits and difficulties, they were ever looking to Egypt and Assyria for help, instead of relying on the Lord their God. Now if, in respect of gross idolatry, the passage be thought more immediately applicable to them, it will nevertheless, as a charge of spiritual idolatry, be found to contain ample matter of accusation against ourselves.
Let us then consider,

I. The evils which God lays to our charge;

II.

The light in which they should be viewed.

I. The evils which God lays to our charge arc, that we have forsaken him, and sought our happiness in the creature rather than in the Creator. He justly calls himself “the fountain of living waters:” for he is, and must be acknowledged to be, the only source of all good. What is there in the visible creation, that is not the product of his power, and the gift of his grace? or what is there that can afford satisfaction to the souls of men, or to the bright intelligences of heaven, which does not emanate from his presence and love? If it be replied, that many sources of consolation are opened for us in the contemplations of reason, or the gratifications of sense; we answer, That the very capacity to communicate or receive pleasure is the fruit of his bounty; and that the creature can be no more to us than what he is pleased to make it.

What then does he require of us? He calls us to regard him as the one source of happiness to ourselves; to acknowledge him in all that we have; and to trust in him for all that we stand in need of. He calls us to resemble our first parents in their primitive state; yea, to resemble the very angels around his throne; and to delight ourselves in him, as our Friend, our Portion, “our eternal great Reward.” By sin, indeed, we are become incapable of fulfilling these duties, or of experiencing these enjoyments, to the extent we ought: but still God desires to restore us to the felicity which we have lost, and to communicate to us all those blessings which we have forfeited by our transgressions.
Happy would it be for us, if we were duly impressed with this unmerited kindness and unbounded mercy. But, instead of seeking blessedness in him, we forsake him utterly: we cast off his yoke, we trample on his laws, we cast him even out of our thoughts.
Now let us see what is that rival which we prefer: it is the creature, justly called “a broken cistern.” Some look for happiness in the gratifications of sense; others in the attainment of wealth or honour; others, in the pursuits of science or philosophy. We beg to be clearly understood when speaking on this subject: we do not mean to condemn pleasure, honour, wealth, or science, as evil in themselves: they all have their legitimate and appropriate use, and all may be pursued and enjoyed in perfect consistency with a good conscience. It is quite a mistake to think that religion is opposed to any of these things: on the contrary, it leads to the richest enjoyment of created good, and enjoins, instead of prohibiting, a diligent performance of every known duty. If subordinated to religion, and pursued for God, (we repeat it,) the pleasures of sense may be possessed, and the duties of every station discharged: nay more, we declare, that no man can be religious without endeavouring to fulfil the duties of his calling, whether they be commercial or military, philosophical or religious. But the evil incident to these things consists in making them the great end of our life; in suffering them to draw away our hearts from God, or to occupy that place in our affections which is due to God alone. It is in this view that we are to be understood as denominating the pursuit of these things “evil;” and we doubt not but that the consciences of all attest the truth of our statement, and accede fully to that apostolic, that incontrovertible position, that to “love and serve the creature more than the Creator” is idolatry.

We have digressed a little, for the purpose of being more clearly understood. Let us now return to our observation, that the creature, which is suffered to rival God in our affections, whatever it may be, is only “a broken cistern.” Who will venture to say that he has ever found solid and permanent satisfaction in the creature? Who has lived any considerable time in the world without learning, by his own experience, the truth of Solomon’s observation, that “all below the sun is vanity?” Yet, whatever our experience has been, we still follow our own delusions, and run after a phantom, which, while we think to apprehend it, eludes our grasp. We think that the pleasures of the world will make us happy: we follow them, and for a moment dream that we are happy; but we awake, and find that it was but a dream. We next try wealth or honour: we run the race; we attain the prize; and find at last that we have been following a shadow. We imagine, perhaps, that science and philosophy, being so much more elevated in their nature than the common concerns of life, will form a kind of Paradise for us: we labour, we press forward, we become distinguished for high attainments, but are as far off from solid happiness as ever; and are constrained to join our testimony to that of the wisest of men, after he had “sought out all things that are done under the heaven,” that even wisdom, with all its high attainments, is only “vanity and vexation of spirit.”
Such is the charge which God has exhibited against us; and we appeal to every man’s conscience for the truth of it. Is there so much as one amongst us whose conscience does not tell him, “Thou art the man?” We are God’s people, as much as the Jews of old were: “He hath nourished and brought us up, and yet we have rebelled against him: The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s crib; but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider.” Notwithstanding a secret conviction that God was the only source of real happiness, we could not prevail upon ourselves to seek after him: and notwithstanding our daily experience of the insufficiency of the creature to make us happy, we could not relinquish the vain pursuit. We have hewn out one cistern, and found it incapable of retaining any water: we have then renewed our labour, and hewed out another; which we have found as unproductive of solid benefit as the former. We have even worn ourselves out with the pursuit of various and successive vanities, yet have persisted in our error, untaught by experience, and unwearied by disappointments. Even to the close of life “we hold fast deceit;” “we refuse to return;” “a deceived heart hath turned us aside, so that we cannot deliver our souls, or say, Is there not a lie in my right hand?”
Will any contend, that these pursuits are not evil? Surely they are evil in the sight of God. So far from passing over the whole as of small account, he disjoins and separates the different parts of his charge, and declares, that on account of each we are involved in guilt. Our neglect of him has been exceeding sinful, as our attachment to vanity has also been: “My people have committed two evils.”

But on this part of our subject we shall enter more fully, whilst we consider,

II.

In what light we should view these evils—

We are apt to palliate our conduct, and to say, What great harm is there in these things? But if we look to our text, we shall see that they are both heinous in themselves, and terrible in their consequences. In respect of heinousness, I scarcely know whether is greater, their guilt or their folly. Only let us consider what advantages we have enjoyed for the knowledge and service of God. Is it nothing that we have been endowed with such noble capacities, and have neglected to improve them; insomuch that the progressive enlargement of them has tended rather to increase our alienation from God, than to bring us nearer to him? Is it nothing that we have had the inspired volume in our hands, and yet have scarcely differed at all, except in speculative notions, from the heathen? Is it nothing that we have provoked God to jealousy with things which cannot profit, and preferred even the basest lust before him? Is it nothing that we have despised redeeming love, trodden under foot the Son of God, counted the blood of the covenant an unholy thing, and done despite to the Spirit of grace? Should we account it a light matter, if we ourselves were treated thus by our servants and children; if they cast off all regard for us, and poured contempt upon us, and set at nought our authority, neglecting every thing that we commanded, doing every thing that we forbade, and persisting in such conduct for years together, in spite of every thing we could say or do to reclaim them? And if we should resent such conduct, shall not God much more? But, whatever we may think of these things, God calls them “evils,” and such too as may well excite “astonishment” amongst all the hosts of heaven: “Be astonished, O ye heavens, at this!”

Nor is the folly of such conduct less than the malignity. Suppose only that one half the labour which we have used in the pursuit of vanities had been employed in the service of our God; or suppose that only the Sabbaths (a seventh part of our time) had been improved with that assiduity and constancy which we have exerted on other days in the pursuit of this world; I will venture to say, that had even that measure of piety been exercised by us, we should have been far happier here, and should have had infinitely better prospects in the eternal world. What amazing folly, then, have we been guilty of! Truly, if the fact were not proved beyond a possibility of doubt, it would not be credited, that persons possessed of reason could act so irrational a part. But, to view it in a proper light, we should attend to the representation given of it in the text. It is true, the picture is so strong, and yet withal so exact, that we shall scarcely endure to look at it. But let us contemplate it a moment: let us imagine to ourselves a person dwelling close to a perennial spring of water, and yet with great labour and fatigue hewing out first one cistern, and then another, and, after multiplied disappointments, dying at last of thirst. By what name should we designate this? Should we be content with calling it folly? Should we not soon find for it a more appropriate and humiliating term? Let us take this then as a glass wherein to view our own likeness: it is no exaggerated representation, but the precise view in which God sees our conduct. We are aware, that the idea suggested implies such a degree of infatuation as almost to provoke a smile: but the more humiliating the picture, the more need there is that we should contemplate it: and my labour will not have been lost, if a few only of the present assembly be led to bear it in remembrance, and to meditate upon it in their secret retirement.

We have further to remark, that these evils are represented in the text as terrible also in their consequences. Men do not like, in general, to hear of this: they wish rather to have it kept out of sight. But it is melancholy that they should so labour to deceive their own souls. If, by concealing the consequences of sin, we could ward them off and prevent them, we should be the last to bring them forward to your view: but if it be the surest way to draw them down upon you, surely we should deserve ill at your hands if we forbore to warn you of them. It is not thus that the Prophets and Apostles acted: nor is it thus that God would have us act. He bids us to “warn the wicked of their evil ways:” and declares, that if we neglect to do so, he “will require their blood at our hands.” In order then that the danger of such sins as are here laid to our charge may appear, consider what are the representations given of it in the Holy Scriptures, If there be one image more terrible than another, it is that of lying down in a lake of fire and brimstone, ever to be consuming and unconsumed: yet that is the image repeatedly employed by Christ himself, in order to represent the misery that awaits the impenitent and unbelieving world. This will account for the extreme anxiety and sorrow which holy men of old expressed when contemplating the danger to which their fellow-creatures were exposed: “Rivers of waters run down mine eyes,” says David, “because men keep not thy law:” And again, “I am horribly afraid for the ungodly that forsake thy law.” Indeed, how is it possible to entertain light thoughts of this, if we only consider what have uniformly been the feelings of men, the very moment that they have come to a just sense of their state? See the jailor’s agitation; or hear the cries of the three thousand on the day of Pentecost. Nay, we need only consider what our own apprehensions sometimes have been, when sickness has come upon us, or death appeared to be nigh at hand. But, if yet we be disposed to doubt, let us ask, Wherefore is it that God calls on the heavens to “be horribly afraid, and to be very desolate?” Is there no cause for such language? Is it intended only to alarm us, and to excite unfounded apprehensions? No, surely: it is founded in truth: it is the effusion of unbounded love; the compassionate warning of a tender Father. Permit me, then, once more to say, that the forsaking of the Fountain of Living Waters is an evil, a great evil; and that the hewing out of broken cisterns for ourselves is also a great evil. God views these evils in all their malignity: the angels also that are around the throne, view them with deep solicitude, anxiously desiring to see us escape from them, and waiting in readiness to rejoice over our return to God. O that we might no longer indulge a fatal security! “no longer say, Peace, peace! lest sudden destruction come upon us without any way to escape!” If God were a hard master, and his service irksome, there would be some shadow of excuse for such conduct. But, who ever sought after God in vain, provided he sought in sincerity and truth? and, whoever found him without finding in him all that could comfort and enrich the soul? God himself puts the question; “What iniquity have your fathers found in me, that they are gone far from me, and have walked after vanity, and are become vain?” “Have I been a wilderness to Israel? a land of darkness? Wherefore say my people, We are lords; we will come no more unto thee?”

Shall we plead, as an excuse, that religion is a source of melancholy? Surely they who harbour such an opinion have never known what religion is. That a neglect of religion will make us melancholy, is clear enough, as well from the dissatisfaction which, notwithstanding our diversified enjoyments, generally prevails, as from the disquietude which men feel in the prospect of death and judgment. But religion, true religion, brings peace into the soul: it leads us to the Fountain of Living Water, where we can at all times quench our thirst, and taste beforehand the felicity of heaven. Our blessed Lord invites us to him in this view: “If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink;” and “the water that I will give him shall be in him a well of water, springing up unto everlasting life.” Listen, then, to that expostulation of the prophet; “Wherefore do ye spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not? Hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness.” Return to the Fountain; and make the experiment, at least: see whether there be not more happiness in turning from vanity, than in embracing it; in seeking after God, than in forsaking him; in the holy exercises of prayer and praise, than in a brutish neglect of these duties; in applying to your souls the promises of Christ, than in a profane contempt of them: and, lastly, in obtaining sweet foretastes of heavenly bliss, than in reluctant approaches towards an unknown eternity. O that I might not commend this Fountain to you in vain! All ranks and orders amongst you are beginning to shew a laudable attention to the theory of religion: O that you might begin to shew it to the practice also! You are not backward to manifest your approbation of that zeal which directs you to the evidences of religion: be ye not therefore offended with that, which solicits your attention to its effects.