The Barren Fig Tree

"And he answering said unto him, Lord let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it; and if it bear fruit, well  and if not, then after that, thou shalt cut it down" (Luke 13.8-9)

These are the words of the Dresser of the vineyard, who, I told you, is Jesus Christ. (For "He made intercession for the transgressors.") And they contain a petition presented to offended justice, praying that a little more time and patience might be exercised toward the barren cumber ground fig tree.

In this petition there are six things considerable:

1. That justice might be deferred.  "O that justice might be deferred!  Lord, let it alone, etc., a while longer."

2. Here is time prefixed, as a space to try if more means will cure a barren fig tree.  "Lord, let it alone this year also."

3. The means to help it are propounded; "till I dig about it, and dung it."

4. Here is also an insinuation of a supposition that by thus doing God's expectation may be answered; "and if it bear fruit, well,"

5. There is a supposition that the barren fig tree may yet abide barren, when Christ has done what He will unto it: "and if it bear fruit," etc.

6. Here is at last a resolution, that if thou continue barren, hewing days will come upon thee: "and if it bear fruit, well; and if not, then, after that, thou shalt cut it down."

But to proceed according to my former method, by way of exposition.

Lord, let it alone this year also.  Here is astonishing Grace indeed! Astonishing Grace, I say, that the Lord Jesus should concern Himself with a barren fig tree; that He should step in to stop the blow from a barren fig tree!  True He stopped the blow but for a time: but why did He stop it at all?  Why did He not fetch out the ax?  Why did He not do execution?  Why did He not cut it down?  Barren fig tree, it is well for thee that there is a Jesus at God's right hand, a Jesus of that largeness of bowels as to have compassion for a barren fig tree - else justice had never let thee alone to cumber the ground as thou least done.  When Israel also liked sinned against God, down they had gone, but that Moses stood in the breach.  "Let Me alone," said God to him, "that I may consume them in a moment, and I will make of thee a great nation." Barren fig tree! Dost thou hear?  Thou knowest not how of't the hand of Divine justice hath been up to strike, and how many years since thou hadst been cut down, had not Jesus caught hold of His Father's ax.  "Let Me alone, let Me fetch My blow," or, "Cut it down! why cumbereth it the ground?" Wilt thou not hear yet, barren fig tree?  Wilt thou provoke still?  Thou hast wearied men, and provoked the justice of God: and wilt thou weary my God, also?

Lord, let it alone this year.  "Lord, a little longer!  Let us not lose a soul for want of means.  I will try.  I will see if I can make it fruitful. I will not beg a long life, nor that it might still be barren, and so provoke Thee.  I beg, for the sake of the soul, the immortal soul, Lord, spare it one year only, one year longer, this year also.  If I do any good to it, it will be in little time.  Thou shalt not be over wearied with waiting; one year, and then!"

Barren fig tree! dost thou hear what a striving there is between the vine dresser and the husbandman for thy life?  "Cut it down," says one; "Lord, spare it," saith the other.  "It is a cumber ground," saith the Father.  "One year longer," prays the Son.  "Let it alone this year also."

Till I shall dig about it, and dung it.  The Lord Jesus, by these words, supposeth two things as causes of the want of fruit in a barren fig tree; and two things He proposeth as a remedy.  The things that are a cause of the want of fruit, are, 1. It is earthbound.  "Lord, the fig tree is earthbound." 2. A want of warmer means, or fatter means,

Wherefore accordingly He propoundeth, 1. To loosen the earth, to dig about it. 2. And then to supply it with manure: to "dig about it, and dung it."

Lord, let it alone this year also, until I shall dig about it.  I doubt it is too much earthbound.  The love of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches lie too close to the roots of the heart of this professor.  The love of riches, the love of honors, the love of pleasures, are the thorns that choke the Word.  "For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but of the world." How then (where these things bind up the heart) can there be fruit brought forth to God?

Barren fig tree! See how the Lord Jesus, by these very words, suggesteth the cause of thy fruitlessness of soul. The things of this world lie too close to thy heart; the earth with its things has bound up thy roots; thou art an earthbound soul, thou art wrapped up in thick clay. "If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him"; how then can he be fruitful in the vineyard?  This kept Judas from the fruit of calling for the poor.  This kept Demas from the fruit of self denial. And this kept Ananias and Sapphira his wife from the goodly fruit of sincerity and truth.  What shall I say?  These are "foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition; for the love of money is the root of all evil." How then can good fruit grow from such a root, the root of all evil, "which, while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows"?  It is an evil root, nay, it is the root of all evil.  How then can the professor that hath such a root, or a root wrapped up in such earthly things, as the lusts, and pleasures, and vanities of this world, bring forth fruit to God?

Till I shall dig about it. "Lord, I will loosen his roots; I will dig up this earth, I will lay his roots bare.  My hand shall be upon him by sickness, by disappointments, by cross providences.  I will dig about him until he stands shaking and tottering, until he be ready to fall; then, if ever, he will seek to take faster hold." Thus, I say, deals the Lord Jesus oft times with the barren professor; He diggeth about him, he smiteth one blow at his heart, another blow at his lusts, a third at his pleasures, a fourth at his comforts, another at his self conceitedness: thus He diggeth about him.  This is the way to take bad earth from the roots, and to loosen his roots from the earth.  Barren fig tree! See here the care, the love, the labor, and way, which the Lord Jesus, the Dresser of the vineyard, is fair to take with thee, if haply thou mayest be made fruitful.

2. Till I shall dig about it, and dung it.  As the earth, by binding the roots too closely, may hinder the tree's being fruitful, so the want of better means may also be a cause thereof.  And this is more than intimated by the Dresser of the vineyard; "till I shall dig about it and dung it." "I will supply it with a more fruitful ministry, with a warmer word, I will give them Pastors after Mine own heart.  I will dung them." You know dung is a more warm, more fat, more hearty and succoring matter, than is commonly the place in which trees are planted. I will "dig about it, and dung it." That is, "I will bring it under a heart awakening ministry; the means of Grace shall be fat and good.  I will also visit it with heart awakening, heart warming, heart encouraging considerations.  I will apply warm dung to its roots.  I will strive with him by My Spirit, and give him some tastes of the Heavenly gift, and the power of the world to come.  I am loath to lose him for want of digging." "Lord, let it alone this year also, until I shall dig about it and dung it."

And if it bear fruit, well.  "And if the fruit of all My labor doth make this fig tree fruitful, I shall count My time, My labor, and means, well bestowed upon it.  And Thou also, O My God, shalt be therewith Much delighted.  For Thou art gracious and merciful, and repentest Thee of the evil which Thou threatenest to bring upon a people." These words, therefore, inform us that if a barren fig tree, a barren professor, shall now at last bring forth fruit to God, it shall go well with that professor, it shall go well with that poor soul, His former barrenness, his former tempting of God, his abuse of God's patience and long suffering, his misspending year after year, shall now be all forgiven him.  Yea, God the Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ, will now pass by, and forget all, and say, Well done, at the last.  "When I say to the wicked, O wicked man thou shalt surely die, if he then do that which is lawful and right, if he walk in the statutes of life, without committing iniquity, he shall surely live, he shall not die."

Barren fig tree! Dost thou hear?  The ax is laid to thy roots; the Lord Jesus prays God to spare thee.  Hath He been digging about thee?  Hath He been manuring thee? O barren fig tree? now thou art come to the point.  If thou shalt now become good - if thou shalt, after a gracious manner, stick in the Gospel, and if thou shalt bring forth fruit unto God, well; but if not, the fire is the last.  Fruit, or the fire; fruit or the fire, barren fig tree!  "If it bear fruit, well!"

And if not, then after that Thou shalt cut it down.  "And if not," etc.  The Lord Jesus, by this if, giveth us to understand that there is a generation of professors in the world that are incurable, that will not, that can not repent, nor be profited by the means of Grace.  A generation, I say, that will retain a profession, but will not bring forth fruit; a generation that will wear out the patience of God, time and tide, threatenings and intercessions, judgments and mercies, and after all will be unfruitful.

O the desperate wickedness that is in thy heart!  Barren professor, dost thou hear?  The Lord Jesus stands yet in doubt about thee; there is an if that stands yet in the way.  I say, the Lord Jesus stands yet in doubt about thee, whether or no at last thou wilt be good - whether He may not labor in vain; whether His digging and dunging will come to more than lost labor.  "I gave her space to repent, and she repented not." "I digged about it, I dunged it; I granted time, and supplied it with means; but I labored here in vain, and spent My strength for naught and in vain." Dost thou hear, barren fig tree?  There is yet a question whether it will be well with thy soul at last?

And if not, after that Thou shalt cut it down.  There is nothing more exasperating to the mind of a man than to find all his kindness and favor slighted.  Neither is the Lord Jesus so provoked with any thing, as when sinners abuse His means of Grace.  "If it be barren and fruitless under My Gospel; if it turn My Grace into wantonness; if after digging and dunging, and waiting, it yet remain unfruitful, I will let thee cut it down."

Gospel means applied is the last remedy for a barren professor.  If the Gospel, if the Grace of the Gospel will not do, there can be nothing expected, but "cut it down   ... .. Then after that thou shalt cut it down." "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!  Behold your house is left unto you desolate." Yet it can not be but that this Lord Jesus who at first did put a stop to the execution of His Father's justice, because He desired to try more means with the fig tree; I say it can not be but that a heart so full of compassion as His is, should be touched to behold this professor must now be cut down.  "And when He was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace!  But now they are hid from thine eyes."

After that Thou shalt cut it down.  When Christ giveth thee over, there is no intercessor or mediator, no more sacrifice for sin.  All is gone but judgment, but the ax, but "a certain fearful looking for of judgment, and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries," Barren fig tree! take heed that thou comest not to these last words, for these words are a give up, a cast up, a cast up of a castaway.  "After that thou shalt cut it down." They are as much as if Christ had said, "Father, I begged for more time for this barren professor; I begged until I should dig about it, and dung it; but now, Father, the time is out, the year is ended, the summer is ended, and no good done.  I have also tried with My means, with the Gospel - I have digged about it - I have laid also the fat and hearty dung of the Gospel to it, but all comes to nothing.  Father, I deliver up this professor to Thee again; I have done.  I have done all, I have done praying and endeavoring, I will hold the head of Thine ax no longer: take him into the hands of justice.  Do justice!  Do the law!  I will never beg for him more." "After that Thou shalt cut it down." "Woe unto them when I depart from them!"

Now then, I will show you, by some signs, how you may know that the day of Grace is ended, or near to ending with the barren professor. "And after that, thou shalt cut it down."

He that hath stood it out against God, and that hath withstood all those means for fruit that God hath used for the making of him (if it might have been) a fruitful tree in His garden is in this danger.  And this, indeed, is the sum of the parable.  The fig tree here mentioned was blessed with the application of means, had time allowed it to receive the nourishment; but it outstood, withstood, overstood, all - all that the husbandman did, all that the vine dresser did.

But a little distinctly to particularize as to the signs of being past Grace.

The day of Grace is like to be past, when a professor hath withstood, abused, and worn out God's patience.  Then he is in danger; this is a provocation; then God cries, "Cut it down." There are some men that steal into a profession, nobody knows how, even as this fig tree was brought into the vineyard, by other hands than God's - and there they abide lifeless, graceless, careless, and without any good conscience to God at all.  Perhaps they came in for the loaves, for a trade, for credit, for a blind, or it may be to stifle and choke the shocks and grinding pangs of an awakened and disquieted conscience.  Now having obtained their purpose, like the sinners of Zion, they are at ease, secure; saying, like Agag, "Surely the bitterness of death is past"; in other words, "I am well, I shall be saved, and go to Heaven." Thus in these vain conceits they spend a year, two or three; not remembering that at every season of Grace, and at every opportunity of the Gospel, the Lord comes seeking fruit.  Well, sinner! Well, barren fig tree! This is but a coarse beginning: God comes for fruit.

"What have I here?" saith God.  "What fig tree is this, that hath stood this year in My vineyard, and brought Me forth no fruit?  I will cry unto him, 'Professor, barren fig tree, be fruitful!  I look for fruit!' I expect fruit; I must have fruit; therefore bethink thyself." At this the professor pauses - but these are words, not blows; therefore off goes this consideration from the heart.  When God comes the next year, He finds him still as he was, a barren fruitless cumber ground.  And now again He complains.  "Here are two years gone, and no fruit appears!  Well, I will defer Mine anger for My name's sake; I will defer Mine anger for My praise; I will refrain from thee, that I cut thee not off, as yet. I will wait, I will yet wait to be gracious." But this helps not.  This hath not the least influence upon the barren fig tree.  "Tush!" saith he, "here is no threatening.  God is merciful.  He will defer His anger, He waits to be gracious; I am not yet afraid." O! How ungodly men, that are unawares crept into the vineyard - how do they turn the Grace of our God into lasciviousness!  Well, He comes the third year for fruit, as He did before, but still He finds but a barren fig tree; not fruit!  Now, He cries out again, "O thou dresser of My vineyard, come hither; here is a fig tree hath stood these three years in My vineyard, and hath at every season disappointed My expectations, for I have looked for fruit in vain.  Cut it down; My patience is worn out.  I shall wait on this fig tree no longer."

2. And now He begins to shake the fig tree with His threatenings. "Fetch out the ax." Now the ax is death, Death, therefore, is called for.  "Death, come, smite Me this fig tree." And withal the Lord shakes this sinner, and whirls him upon a sick bed, saying, "Take him, Death. He hath abused My patience and forbearance, not remembering that it should have led him to repentance, and to the fruits thereof.  Death, fetch away this fig tree to the fire, fetch away this fig tree to the fire, fetch this barren professor to hell!" At this Death comes, with grim looks into the chamber, yea, and Hell follows with him to the bedside, and both stare this professor in the face, yea, begin to lay hands upon him, one smiting him with pains in his body, with heartache, heartache, backache, shortness of breath, fainting qualms, trembling of joints, stopping at the chest, and almost all the symptoms of a man past all recovery.  Now, while Death is thus tormenting the body, Hell is doing with the mind and conscience, striking them with its pains, casting sparks of fire in thither, wounding with sorrows and fears of everlasting damnation, the spirit of this poor creature.

And now he begins to bethink himself, and to cry to God for mercy, "Lord, spare me!  Lord, spare me!" "Nay," saith God, "you have been a provocation to Me these three years.  How many times have you disappointed Me?  How many seasons have you spent in vain?  How many sermons and other mercies did I or My patience afford you, but to no purpose at all?  Take him, Death." "O! good Lord," saith the sinner; "spare me but this once.  Indeed I have been a barren professor, and have stood to no purpose at all in Thy vineyard; but spare! O spare this one time, I beseech Thee, and I will be better." "Away, away! You will not; I have tried you these three years already; you are naught; if I should recover you again, you would be as bad as you were before." (And all this talk is while Death stands by.) The sinner cries again. "Good Lord, try me this once; let me get up again this once, and see if I do not mend." "But will you promise Me to mend?" "Yes, indeed, Lord, and I vow it too.  I will never be so bad again, I will be better." "Well," saith God, "Death, let this professor alone for this time; I will try him a while longer.  He hath promised, he hath vowed that he will mend his ways.  It may be he will mind to keep his promises.  Vows are solemn things; it may be he may fear to break his vows.  Arise from off thy bed."

And now God lays down his ax.  At this the poor creature is very thankful, praises God, and fawns upon Him, shows as if he did it heartily, and calls to others to thank Him too.  He, therefore, riseth, as one would think, to be a new creature indeed.  But by that time he hath put on his clothes, is come down from his bed, and ventured into the yard or shop, and there sees how all things are gone to sixes and sevens, he begins to have second thoughts, and says to his folks, "What have you all been doing?  How are all things out of order?  I am, I can not tell what, behind hand: one may see if a man be but a little to aside, that you have neither wisdom nor prudence to order things." And now, instead of seeking to spend the rest of his time to God, he doubleth his diligence after this world.  "Alas!" he says, "all must not be lost; we must have provident care." And thus, quite forgetting the sorrows of death, the pains of hell, the promises and vow - which he made to God to be better because judgment was not (now) speedily executed, therefore the heart of this poor creature is fully set in him to do evil.

3. These things proving ineffectual, God takes hold of His ax again, sends death to a wife, to a child, to his cattle.  "Your young men have I slain, and taken away your horses," "I will blast him, cross him, disappoint him, and cast him down, and will set Myself against him in all that he putteth his hand unto." At this the poor barren professor cries out again, "Lord, I have sinned; spare me once more, I beseech thee. O take not away the desire of mine eyes; spare my children, bless me in my labors, and I will mend and be better." "No," saith God, "you pled to me last time; I will trust you in this no longer." And withal He tumbleth his wife, the child, the estate, into a grave, and then returneth to His place, till this professor, more unfeignedly acknowledgeth his offense.

At this the poor creature is afflicted and distressed, reads his clothes, and begins to call the breaking of his promise and vows to mind.  He mourns and prays, and, like Ahab, a while walks softly at the remembrance of the justness of the hand of God upon him.  And now he renews his promise, "Lord, try me this one time more; take off Thy hand and see; they go far that never turn." Well, God spareth him again, sets down His ax again.  "Many times He did deliver them, but they provoked Him with their counsel, and were brought low for their iniquity." Now they seem to be thankful again, and are as if they were resolved to be godly indeed.  Now they read, they pray, they go to meetings, and seem to be serious a pretty while.  But at last they forget. Their lusts prick them; suitable temptations present themselves, wherefore they turn to their crooked ways again.  "When He slew them, then they sought Him, and they returned and inquired early after God; nevertheless they did flatter Him with their mouth, and pled unto Him with their tongue."

4. Yet again, the Lord will not leave this professor, but will take up His ax again, and will put him under a more heart searching ministry; a ministry that shall search him and turn him over and over; a ministry that shall meet with him, as Elijah met with Ahab, in all his acts of wickedness.  And now the ax is laid to the roots of the tree.  Besides, this ministry doth not only search the heart, but presenteth the sinner with the golden rays of the glorious Gospel.  Now is Christ Jesus set forth evidently; now is Grace displayed sweetly; now, now are the promises broken like boxes of ointment, to the perfuming of the whole room - But, alas! there is yet no fruit on this fig tree.  While his heart is searching, he wrangles; while the glorious Grace of the Gospel is unveiling, this professor wags and is wanton; gathers up some scraps thereof; tastes the good Word of God, and the powers of the world to come; drinketh in the rain that comes oft upon him, but bringeth not forth fruit meet for Him, whose Gospel it is, takes no heed to walk in the law of the Lord God of Israel with all his heart, but counteth that the glory of the Gospel consisteth in talk and show, and that our obedience thereto is a matter of speculation; that good works lie in good words; and if they can finely talk, they think they bravely please God. They think the Kingdom of God consisteth only in word, not in power. And thus proveth ineffectual this fourth means also.

5. Well, now the ax begins to be heaved higher.  For now, indeed, God is ready to smite the sinner; yet before He will strike the stroke, He will try one way more at last, and if that misseth, down goes the fig tree.  Now this last way is to tug and strive with this professor by the Spirit.  Wherefore the Spirit of the Lord is now come to him, but not always to strive with man.  Yet awhile He will strive with him; He will awaken, He will convince, He will call to remembrance former sins, former judgments, the breach of former vows and promises, the misspending of former days - He will also present persuasive arguments, encouraging promises, dreadful judgments, the shortness of time to repent in, and that there is hope if He come.  Further, He will show him the certainty of death, and of the judgment to come; yea, He will pull and strive with this sinner.  And behold, the mischief now ties here; here is tugging and striving on both sides!  The Spirit convinces, the man turns a deaf ear to God; the Spirit saith, Receive My instruction and live, but the man pulls away his shoulder; the Spirit shows him whither he is going, but the man closeth his eyes against it; the Spirit offereth violence, the man strives and resists.  They have "done despite unto the Spirit of Grace." The Spirit parteth a second time, and urgeth reasons of a new nature; but the sinner answereth, "No, I have loved strangers, and after them I will go." At this God's fury comes up into His face; now He comes out of His holy place, and is terrible; now He sweareth in His wrath, they shall never enter into His rest.  "I exercised toward you My patience, yet you have not turned unto Me," saith the Lord.  "I smote you in your person, in your relations, in your estate, yet you have not returned unto Me," saith the Lord.  "In thy filthiness is lewdness.  Because I have purged thee, and thou wast not purged, thou shalt not be purged from thy filthiness any more, till I have caused My fury to rest upon thee." Cut it down - why doth it cumber the ground?

But to give you, in a few particulars, the manner of this man's dying:

1. Now he hath his fruitless fruit beleaguer him round his bed, together with all the bands and legions of his other wickedness.  "His own iniquities shall take the wicked himself, and he shall be holden with the cords of his sins."

2. Now some terrible discovery of God is made out unto him, to the perplexing and terrifying of his guilty conscience.  "God shall cast upon him, and not spare; he would fain flee out of His hand."

3. The dark entry he is to go through will be a sore amazement to him, for "fears shall be in the way." Yea, terrors will take hold on him, when he shall see the yawning jaws of death to gape upon him, and the doors of the shadow of death open to give him passage out of the world.  "Now, who will meet me in this dark entry? How shall I pass through this entry into another world?"

4. For by reason of guilt, and a shaking conscience, his life will hang in continual doubt before him, and he shall be afraid day and night, and shall have no assurance of his life.

5. Now also, Want will come up against him; it will come up like an armed man.  This is a terrible enemy to him that is graceless in heart, and fruitless in life.  This want will continually cry in thine ears, "Here is a new birth wanting! A new heart, and a new spirit wanting! Here is faith wanting! Here are love and repentance wanting! Here is the fear of God wanting! And a good conversation wanting!" "Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting."

6. Together with these standeth by the companions of death; death and hell, death and devils, death and endless torment in the everlasting flames of devouring fire.  "When God shall come up onto the people, He will invade them with His troops."

But how will this man die?  Can his heart now endure, or can his hands be strong?

1. God, and Christ, and pity, have left him.  Sin against light, against mercy, and the long suffering of God, is come up against him; his hope and confidence are now dying by him, and his conscience totters and shakes continually within him.

2. Death is at work, cutting him down; hewing both bark and heart, both body and soul asunder. The man groans, but Death hears him not; he looks ghastly, carefully, dejectedly; he sighs, he sweats, he trembles - Death matters nothing.

3. Fearful cogitation's haunt him; misgivings, direful apprehensions of God terrify him.  Now he hath time to think what the loss of Heaven will be, and what the torments of hell will be; now he looks no way but he is frighted.

4. Now would he live, but may not; he would live though it were but the life of a bed rid man, but must not.  He that cuts him down, sways him, as the feller of woods sways the tottering tree - now this way, then that; at last a root breaks, a heart string, an eye string snaps asunder!

5. And now, could the soul be annihilated, or brought to nothing, how happy would it count itself!  But it sees that may not be.  Wherefore it is put to a wonderful strait.  Stay in the body it may not; go out of the body it dares not!  Life is going; the blood settles in the flesh, and the lungs being no more able to draw breath through the nostrils, at last out goes the weary trembling soul, and is immediately seized by devils, who lie lurking in every hole in the chamber for that very purpose.  His friends take care of the body, and wrap it up in the sheet or coffin; but the soul is out of their thought and reach, going down to the chambers of death!

I had thought to have enlarged, but I forbear.  God, who teaches man to profit, bless this brief and plain discourse to thy soul, who yet standest a professor in the land of the living, among the trees of His garden! Amen.