The heart in Christian preaching symbolizes the core of human nature, encompassing desires, intentions, and spiritual condition (Jeremiah 17:9; Ezekiel 36:26). Illustrations often use images of conflict, disease, and deception to reveal inner struggles and the need for divine transformation. The heart's true state shapes speech, actions, and destiny, emphasizing genuine renewal over outward appearances.
Inner corruption weakens character despite outward appearances, leading to spiritual downfall.
During a thunder storm that contained high winds, a giant oak tree was blown down. The tree was thought to be in perfect health; that is, from outward appearance it seemed to be in good health since it was almost perfectly shaped and full of green leaves. However, the massive tree could not withstand the stress of the high wind because of deterioration on the inside. What started as a tiny corruption at the center of the tree had spread until that tremendous tree was so weakened that it was toppled by the wind.
One may reach a point where he forsakes God altogether. It is because he (like the tree) has decayed on the inside. Perhaps the deterioration started with a little lie or one small drink of beer or forsaking the assembly to go fishing or camping. Long before our feet carry us where we ought not go, and our hands do what they ought not do, the desire is in our hearts (Psalms 119:9-11). With pure hearts we will be able to stand the stress of temptation and the stress of everyday living.
A beautiful soul sees the best in others, like eyes that receive and spread light.
A lady, paying an early morning visit to a neighbor, was ushered into a rather untidy room for which her hostess profusely apologized, but her visitor smilingly replied, "I had eyes for nothing but these lovely roses," pointing to a vase of beauties which occupied a prominent place on the table. Just as the eye sees what it looks for, so the soul that is itself beautiful finds all that is best and noblest and most worthy of praise in the men and women. A Healthy Inner Eye
After referring to Himself as the light and life of men, our Lord goes on to say that, for the apprehension of light, a corresponding and appropriate organ is required. This organ is the eye. The eye that receives light for the whole body gives light to the whole body-the light in which all its activities are carried on-and may therefore be called the lamp or candle of the body. But the amount of light received and distributed depends on the power and accuracy of the eye that receives it. The organ may be diseased. It may prevent the access of the light or pervert it so that we do not see things as they are, or even in extreme cases do not see them at all. If this solitary candle is put out, how profound must be the darkness in which we walk! If it is obscured or distorted, how radical and misleading must be the errors into which it betrays us. It is of the utmost importance, therefore, that we should keep the one organ which receives and imparts light-the light of all our seeing, all our working, all our progress-in a healthy condition.
In all this we have been dealing only with the application of the passage of Luke 11:33-36. For while speaking of the eye of the body, it is obvious that it was the eye of the soul that our Lord had in mind. The spiritual part in us has its perceptive faculty as does the physical part, and it is even more important that the spiritual candle should be lifted to its due place and kept burning brightly than that the physical candle should be placed on the lampstand and not hidden in a cellar or under a bushel basket.
If then we turn from the physical to the spiritual application of the passage, what is it that our Lord is teaching us in these words? I believe He is saying that a healthy, trained, unprejudiced understanding is required for the due apprehension and appreciation of spiritual truth, and that the health and power of the understanding by which we receive and impart the truth depends mainly on the establishing of right attitudes toward the hearing and sifting of God's Word as revealed in the Scriptures. A desire to know and follow the truth at whatever cost is a prerequisite to "seeing" the truth. A Good Relationship Made the Difference
A girl who received a book from a young man, read it and said, "What a tiresome book!" The young man said, "Did you notice who wrote it?" She looked at the front page and saw that her lover was the author. She began to read it again, and at the end she said, "I never read a greater book." What made the difference? Her relationship to the writer. Look at God. Is He good or evil? It all depends on whether you are single in heart or evil in heart. If you look at Jesus, you may see Him either as a deceiver or as a Savior. What makes the difference? Your attitude, your eye.
Our hearts deceive us, but God knows and searches the human heart.
The Wild West of yesteryear was full of illusions on distant horizons. One of George Custer's young officers was sure he saw a party of Indians a mile away. As the soldier charged, the Indians looked plainer each moment. But arriving at the point, there were no Indians at all-only some buffalo carcasses. Other travelers saw ships skimming across the desert sand in full sail, railroad tracks elevated on pilings, or water birds with brilliant plumage. All of these illusions occur when light rays pass through the atmosphere bent and distorted.
But no optical illusions in nature exceed the illusions that can be left by our own hearts. By diagnosis, the human spiritual heart is "beyond cure." Unaided by God, the response of each of us toward knowing his or her heart must be despair: "Who can know it?" (Jeremiah 17:9). No one can fathom the secrets or pierce the darkness of his or her own heart. This is especially true at the point of the question about whom we trust-here again, our hearts can fool.
But there is hope. It rests in this: God knows your heart (Jeremiah 17:10). He sifts, searches, explores, and probes the human heart. He tests and examines human emotions. This is our hope. When we get to know God, we get to know our own heart. You do not know your heart by looking into it yourself. You know your heart by getting to know God through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Sin begins in the heart and spreads outward, corrupting thoughts, words, and actions.
How does a worm get inside an apple? Perhaps you think the worm burrows in from the outside. No, scientists have discovered that the worm comes from the inside. But, how does he get in there? Simple. An insect lays an egg in the apple blossom. Sometime later the worm hatches in the heart of the apple, then eats his way out.
Sin, like the worm, begins in the heart and works out through the person's thoughts, word and actions. For this reason, David once wrote, "Create in me a clean heart, O God." On Being Side-Tracked
An old fable says that swift-footed Atlanta challenged her suitors to race with her, with herself as the prize or death as the penalty of losing. Many competed and lost their lives. Finally, a man named Hippomenes, secreting on his person three golden apples, entered the contest. As with the others, Atlanta swiftly passed him, but he threw an apple. She, startled, stopped to pick it up. He regained the lead, but soon Hippomenes again saw himself gradually slipping behind; and again he threw a golden apple. Atlanta, charmed by its glitter, delayed to seize it, and fell behind. But once again, as they neared the goal, she was about to pass him, and Hippomenes threw his last golden apple. Atlanta, lured by its charm, stopped again-and lost the race.
Satan today throws along life's highway three golden apples that charm and destroy many a racer. They are: "the lust of the eyes, the lust of the flesh, and the pride of life" (1 John 2:16). Multitudes of Christians today are being turned aside from full obedience to the will and work of God by Satan's "three golden apples!"
True Christian work must be done for God’s glory, not for personal recognition or praise.
An Egyptian architect was commissioned by one of the Pharaohs to build a lighthouse at the mouth of the Nile. On a piece of rock that was duly selected, Cnidus, the architect, erected a fine edifice. Engraved upon the cement covering the outside of the lighthouse was the name Pharaoh. In a few years the effect of wind and rain had worn the cement away and Pharaoh's name had vanished. Then it was discovered that the wily Cnidus had engraved his own name in the masonry beneath. Even Christian work may be done outwardly for the glory of God; but, when the underlying motive is laid bare, our own glory often turns out to be the real aim.
True conversion requires the whole heart to be fully surrendered to God.
"Some are frightened into a little religiousness in their straits and deep necessities, but it is poor work and superficial work. They are like ice in thawing weather, soft at top and hard at bottom. They melt, but to no very great extent. It is upon the surface only that they yield to heavenly influences. This is a sorry state of things, for it generally ends in a harder frost than before, and the bonds of cold indifference bind the very soul. Let those in whom there are any meltings of holy feeling take heed, for their danger lies in being content with a partial subjection to gracious influences. Grace will be all or nothing: the ice must all melt, and the soul must flow like a river. Jesus did not come to create temporary and partial religious feeling, but to make new creatures of us. He will have nothing to do with those Ephraimites who are as half-done cakes, which are black on one side with too much baking, but have never been turned so as to feel the fire on the other side. The centre of the heart must feel the warmth of divine love, or nothing is done. Lord, shine on my soul till I am wholly melted, and all my ice has vanished. Thou alone canst break up nature's frost, but thou canst do it. Shine on me, most patient Lord."
Hearts of stone resist the gospel fire, but grace makes some hearts receptive and aflame.
"A great deal of fire falleth upon a stone and it burneth not, but a dry chip soon taketh fire." According to our condition we are affected by the fire of the gospel. Hearts of stone are not kindled by the most vehement preaching of the word, nor will they ever be till grace works a change in their nature. The same sermons which are powerless with them are, through divine grace, most potent with souls prepared of the Lord to feel the flame. The failures of ministers are often traceable to the sinful state of their hearers—what is a man to do who labours to kindle a fire with stones? Must he not labour in vain? He may blow as long as he pleases, and burn his heart out with fervour, and yet his hearers' hearts will not catch the flame; and he may even die in very anguish; but so long as the natural mind remains what it is he cannot effect his purpose. Lord, I thank thee not only for the heavenly fire but for the power to be affected by it. It is thy grace which makes me capable of grace, and unto thee be all the praise.
Occasional good acts don’t prove a changed heart; true renewal changes natural inclination.
"A man may act from a violent impression contrary to nature, as a stone moveth upward, or a bowl thrown with great strength will so run that it is clear that the bias is overruled; so a wicked man may do a good action or two, as Saul forced himself; but the bent and natural inclination is another thing." A fish now and then leaps out of the water, but it is not a bird; and a swallow touches the brook with its wing, but it is not a fish. Occasional actions and deeds done under pressure are no evidences of a man's condition one way or another. Even a life of pure morality may not be a sure proof of a gracious heart; for circumstances and surroundings may have restrained the natural tendency of the mind, and it may be secretly as impure as that of the man who riots in open crime. A young leopard seemed to be perfectly tame for years, but it once had an opportunity of tasting blood, and straightway its innate ferocity was aroused. Some men only need to be assailed by a fitting temptation, and we should soon see that Satan's power within them is in full force. The ball must be cured of its bias, or else the next throw may reveal its inability to move in a straight line; and so we must be renewed in heart, or our next action or thought may manifest our depravity. Lord, make me to do good freely and naturally because I delight to do it; for nothing less than this will prove that thou hast renewed me by thy Spirit.
People blame circumstances for sin, but the real fault lies within their own hearts.
"A bowl used on the green must be made round before it can run round; a musical instrument must be framed and strung, and put in tune before it can make melody, a tree must first be made good before we can expect any good fruit from it." Precisely so; and yet this fact is seldom considered. Men are loth to believe that their errors arise out of themselves, and that they must themselves be improved before their lives will be bettered. Their circumstances and associations are blamed, whereas the fault lies in themselves, only they will not believe it. They will not admit that there is a bias in the ball itself, but they blame the hand which threw it; the harp-strings they will not attend to, but complain of the musician's touch; the tree they will not chide for bearing crabs, it is the soil, the season, or the gardener. Most guilty men, when their crimes are exposed, blame their ill-luck, and not their evil hearts. The world has come to call an unchaste woman "unfortunate;" and this is but one open expression of what it secretly believes as to all sin: it reckons our transgression to be our misfortune rather than our fault. We are poor erring mortals, and are more to be pitied than punished—this is the secret creed of mankind, and there is a floating tradition abroad that we ourselves are right enough, but our position renders error unavoidable. When will our fellow-men give up this falsehood, and perceive that if the vessel leaks, it is because it is broken; and if foul water drips from it, it is because its contents are unclean? Oh, that they would blame themselves, and seek a change of heart; for nothing short of this can set the matter right.
The greatest danger is a diseased heart unnoticed while focusing on lesser sins.
"What would we think of a man who complained of the toothache, or of a cut finger, when all the while he was wounded at the heart? Would it not seem very strange?" Yet men will lament anything sooner than the depravity of their hearts. Many will confess their wandering thoughts in prayer, but will not acknowledge the estrangement of their hearts from God. They will be sorry for having spoken angrily, but not for having a passionate heart. They will own to Sabbath-breaking, but never lament their want of love to Jesus, which is a heart-matter. The evil of their hearts seems nothing to them: their tongues, hands, feet are all that they notice. What! will they cry over a cut finger, and feel no fear when they have a dagger thrust into their bowels? Oh, madness of sinners, that they trifle most with that disease which is the most dangerous, and lies at the bottom of all other ills. God's great complaint of men is that they set up in their hearts idols which they themselves think nothing of. Ezek. xiv. 3, 5. Certain in our day are so far gone that they even deny that the human heart is diseased. What then? It does but prove the intimate connection between the heart and the eyes. A perverted heart soon creates a blinded eye. Of course a depraved heart does
not see its own depravity. Oh, that we could lead men to think and feel aright about their hearts; but this is the last point to which we can bring them! They beat about the bush, and mourn over any and every evil except the source and fountain of it all. Lord, teach me to look within. May I attend even more to myself than to my acts. Purge thou the spring, that the stream may no longer be defiled. I would begin where thou dost begin, and beseech thee to give me a new heart. Thou sayest, "My son, give me thine heart." Lord, I do give it to thee, but at the same time I pray, "Lord, give me a new heart"; for without this my heart is not worth thy having.
Our speech reveals the condition of our heart and spiritual transformation.
"The tap runneth according to the liquor with which the vessel is filled." The tongue babbleth out that which occupies the mind. We shall never hear much pious conversation till we have more thorough conversions. Taps will never run with pure water while the barrels are bursting with fermented liquors. Change the contents of the heart, and you alter at once the droppings of the mouth. From a sweet fountain of thought we shall have sweet waters of talk. Even the involuntary utterances of gracious men are gracious: the mere drippings of common speech reveal the heart of the man. The leakings of a tap show the contents quite as surely as the proper runnings of it. Lord, grant that even my dreams may be pure, that my playful thoughts may be godly, and my chance words acceptable before thee. Fill me with thyself, and then nothing but good can come from me.
The soul reflects what it focuses on—earthly things produce earthly minds, heavenly things produce heavenly minds.
"Take a looking-glass and put it towards heaven, there you shall see the figure of heaven, the clouds and things above. Turn it downward towards the earth, you shall see the figure of the earth, trees, meadows, men. So doth the soul receive a figure from the things to which it is set. If the heart be set towards heaven, that puts thee into a heavenly frame. If thou appliest it to earthly objects, thou art a man of the earth." Are our thoughts and our affections full of worldliness? Let us make good use of Manton's figure, and turn the looking-glass the other way. Our mind will readily enough reflect divine things if we turn it in that direction. Let us see if it be not so. Reach down the Bible, look at the biography of a holy man, or some lively book of devotion, and see if the heart be not straightway filled with holy and heavenly images. At any rate, if we spend our time on the newspaper, or sit hour after hour reading trashy novels, we have no reason to wonder that thought and heart go after vanity. This turning of the mind upward is half the battle. We cannot expect it to reflect that towards which it does not turn. Those who mind earthly things are earthly, those who set their affection upon things above are heavenly. Paul shows how practically useful it is to turn the mind God-ward when he says that denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world, "looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." We may well cry concerning this matter, "Turn us, O Lord, and we shall be turned." If we cannot see divine truth to our enjoyment, let us nevertheless look that way; for that eye is blessed which looks in the direction of the light. It is well to have our window open towards Jerusalem. He who would behold the sun at his rising must not look to the west. He that would see God to his delight must look God-ward. If the mirror of the soul be resolutely set towards the Lord, we shall
all with open face behold, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, and be changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord. O, my blessed Master, help me I pray thee to keep the mirror of my mind in the right position, that evermore I may see thee. True, it will be but as in a glass darkly, but even that will be a marvellous preparation for beholding thee face to face.
Small leaks in a dam symbolize how minor sins can lead to great destruction.
For hundreds of years the north of Holland has been threatened with submersion by the Northern Ocean. Ramparts have been raised along the whole coast, in the form of massive embankments, to keep the water out. Walking within this lofty embankment, you hear the sea roar and rave without, high above your head. In seasons of storm, the waves have been blown in upon the ramparts higher and higher, until they surged in over the top, washed an opening through a hole which a handful of earth might have stopped, and soon tore it into an immense break, through which "Old Ocean" defuged half a kingdom. At first, a child might have stopped the leak; now millions cannot arrest the break, or rescue the grassy meadows from their watery desolation. Whenever the storm arises, and the waves approach the top, the farm-bell is rung in every city and hamlet far and near; multitudes rush to the rescue, to raise the walls by means of wicker-work and foam. It is a symbol of the human heart.
It is very hard for the poor not to covet the possessions of the rich.
"As I stood one day by Mr. Jeffrys," says Mrs. Jeffrys in her Journal, "catechising the children, I asked them which of the commandments was most difficult to observe. One, after a long pause, mentioned one, and another a different precept; till at last a boy about twelve years old said, 'The last is the hardest.' Mr. Jeffrys said, 'Why is it so, my boy?' He replied, 'Because, for one who is poor to see another possessing a great deal of money, and great deal of clothes, and much cattle and rice, without wishing for some of them, is very hard. I think no person can keep this commandment.'"
— Whitcross
A cynic sees only evil in others, missing all genuine goodness and virtue.
The cynic is one who never sees a good quality in a man, and never fails to see a bad one. He is the human owl, vigilant in darkness, and blind to light; mousing for vermin, and never seeing noble game. The cynic puts all human actions into only two classes, openly bad and secretly bad. All virtue and generosity and disinterestedness are merely the appearance of good, but selfish at the bottom. He holds that no man does a good thing except for profit. The effect of his conversation upon your feelings is to chill and sear them; to send you away sour and morose. His criticisms and innuendoes fall indiscriminately upon every lovely thing like frost upon flowers. If a man is said to be pure and chaste, he answers, "Yes, in the daytime." If a woman is pronounced virtuous, he will reply, "Yes, as yet." — "Mr. A. is religious." — "Yes, on Sundays." — "Mr. B. has just joined the church." — "Certainly: the elections are coming on." — "The minister of the gospel is called an example of diligence." — "It is his trade." — "Such a man is generous." — "Of other men's money." — "That man is obliging." — "To full suspicion and cheat you." — "This man is upright." — "Because he is green." Thus his eye strains out every good quality, and takes in only the bad; as the vulture, when in the highest heaven, will sail by living flocks and herds, but comes like an arrow down upon the smallest carcass. To him religion is hypocrisy, honesty a preparation for fraud, virtue only want of opportunity, and undeniable purity asceticism. The live-long day he will coolly sit with sneering lip,
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uttering sharp speeches in the quietest manner, and in polished phrase, transfixing every character which is presented. Beecher.
The human heart is like muddy water that appears pure until stirred, revealing sin's impurity.
In a vessel filled with muddy water, the thickness visibly subsided to the bottom, and left the water purer and purer, until at last it seemed perfectly limpid. The slightest motion, however, brought the sediment again to the top; and the water became thick and turbid as before. "Here," said Gotthold, when he saw it, "we have an emblem of the human heart." The heart is full of the mud of sinful lusts and carnal desires; and the consequence is, that no pure water—that is, good and holy thoughts—can flow from it. It is, in truth, a miry pit and slough of sin, in which all sorts of ugly reptiles are bred and crawl. Many a one, however, is deceived by it, and never imagines his heart half so wicked as it really is, because sometimes its lusts are at rest, and sink to the bottom. But this lasts only so long as he is without opportunity or incitement to sin. Let that occur, and worldly lusts rise so thick, that his whole thoughts, words, and works show no trace of any thing but slime and impurity. One is meek as long as he is not thwarted: cross him, and he is like powder ignited by the smallest spark, and blazing up with a loud report and destructive effect. Another is temperate so long as he has no jovial companions; a third chaste while the eyes of men are upon him."
Desires and passions intertwine, producing good if moderate but destruction if excessive.
The passions and desires, like the two twists of a rope, mutually mix one with the other, and twine inextricably round the heart; producing good if moderately indulged, but certain destruction if suffered to become inordinate.
— R. Burton
Vanity in dress reveals a desire to be admired, exposing the heart's pride.
Some fashionably-dressed ladies asked a clergyman if he thought there was any harm in their wearing feathers and other ornaments. He said, "There is no harm in feathers and flowers. If you have in your heart the ridiculous vanity to wish to be thought pretty, you may as well hang out the sign, and let every one know what is in your heart."
The restless human heart finds true rest only by returning to Christ.
The sea works, the heavens move, the earth never stands still. Thus the heart of man never rests, sleeping or waking; it fancies more in a moment than it can compass in many years. Last entices it, vanity possesses it, anger disquiets it, pleasure seduces it, envy torments it, sorrow and sadness vex and molest it. It finds no rest until it returns to Christ. Spencer.
True change begins with the heart being renewed, not just outward behavior.
Suppose my watch were not going well: would it do it any good were I to go to the town-clock, and take out my key, and make the hands of the watch to point the same as those of the clock? You know this would do no good; for the hands would soon be as far wrong as ever. I must send my watch to the watchmaker, that he may put its heart right, and then the hands will go right too. So it is with you, children. You must first get your heart put right; then your hands will go right, and your feet, and all will go right.
We must open our hearts to Christ; He removes sin and brings light within.
Suppose you were in a dark room in the morning, the shutters closed and fastened, and only as much light coming through the chinks as made you aware it was day outside. And suppose you should say to a companion with you, "Let us open the windows, and let in the light." What would you think if he replied, "No, no; you must first put the darkness out, or the light will not enter"? You would laugh at his absurdity. Just so we cannot put sin out of our hearts to prepare for Christ's entering; we must open, and take him in, and sin will flee. Fling the window open at once, and let Christ shine in.
Christ patiently knocks on the heart's closed door, waiting to enter and transform it.
In Holman Hunt's picture, "The Light of the World," is represented an august person standing with a lamp in his hands under a midnight sky, on the outside of a walled enclosure, the entrance-gate of which is barred. He stands as one who has knocked over and over and over again, and received no answer; and you observe that the wild vine and bramble have grown over the gate, showing how long and resolutely it has been closed. So Christ stands outside the temple of our hearts, willing to enter and consecrate them, if we will but open the door.
— Biblical Treasury
A dying soldier testifies that God's kingdom has long reigned in his heart.
A wounded soldier-boy was dying in a hospital. The lady who watched by his bedside said to him, "My dear boy, if this should be death that is coming upon you, are you ready to meet your God?" He answered, "I am ready, dear lady; for this has long been his kingdom;" and as he spoke he placed his hand upon his heart. "Do you mean," questioned the lady gently, "that God rules and reigns in your heart?" "Yes," he answered; but his voice sounded far off, sweet and low, as if it came from a soul already well on its way through the "dark valley and shadow of death."
The heart is blind and must be led by the clear-sighted reason to avoid falling.
The heart of man is older than his head. The first-born is sensitive, but blind. Reason, his younger brother, has a cold but all-comprehensive glance. The blind must consent to be led by the clear-sighted, if he would avoid falling.
— Zeigler
Inbred heart corruption clings and spreads like a wild fig-tree damaging a temple.
Methodius compares the inbred corruptions of man's heart to a wild fig-tree growing upon the wall of some goodly temple or stately palace, whereof, although the main trunk of the stem be broke off, and stump of the root be plucked up, yet the fibrous strings of it, piercing into the joints of the stone-work, will not be utterly extracted, but will ever and soon be shooting and sprouting out, until the whole frame of the building be dissolved, and the stone-work thereof be disjointed and pulled in pieces. T. Brooks.
Meditating on Christ's patience transforms a man's heart and cures his anger.
There is a story of an earl that was much given to immoderate anger; and the means he used to cure it was by studying Christ, his patience under the injuries and affronts offered him; and he never suffered the meditation to pass before he found his heart transformed to the similitude of Christ Jesus. Spencer.
A man’s outward amiability can mask a heart corrupted by evil and deception.
The reference to the accounts given of the infamous Robespierre, in connection with the horrible atrocities committed during the French Revolution, serves as an illustration of the subject. This man originally seemed an amiable man: so he was deemed in all his neighborhood. He published two books, one on electricity, the other on the code of criminal jurisprudence; lamenting that it was so sanguinary, and endeavoring to ameliorate it. But the current of the Revolution laid hold on him, and the flood hurried him away; and he became the reverse of all he appeared before. W. Jay.
Even the best hearts contain enough sin to condemn without God's sovereign grace.
There is enough timber in the heart of the best men in the world to light a fire that shall burn to the lowest hell, unless God should quench the sparks as they fall. There is enough corruption, depravity, and wickedness in the heart of the most holy man that is now alive to damn his soul to all eternity, if free and sovereign grace does not prevent. O Christian! thou hast need to pray. But I think I hear you saying, "Is thy servant a dog, that I should do this thing?" So said Hazael, when the prophet told him that he would slay his master; but he went home, and took a wet cloth, and spread it over his master's face and choked him, and did the next day the sin which he abhorred before. Doast not thyself, then, O Christian!
— Spurgeon
Human hearts differ in openness to God's Spirit, like buds unfolding at different times.
There are no buds which can open without the sun; but there is a great difference in the time it takes them to unfold. Some have their outer petals so closely wrapped and glued together, that there must be many days of warm shining before they will begin to expand; and others there are which make haste to get out of the ground, and almost as soon as they are buds they are blossoms. So is it with human hearts. Some are so cold and impervious that it seems as though God's Spirit never could reach them; and others there are which open to its first influences. Beecher.
A divided heart pursues both God and sinful pleasures simultaneously.
In every age and country, there are some found with divided hearts on the subject of religion. Such was Hiram, king of Tyre, who, while he blessed the Lord that Solomon was king, and gladly traded with him for some of the materials for building a temple to Jehovah, also contributed one hundred and twenty talents of gold towards its erection; and yet, in his own country, he dedicated a golden pillar to Jupiter, built the temples of Hercules and Astarte (the Ashtaroth of the Sidonians), and enriched the shrines of the god and goddess by valuable gifts. So there are some people now who appear very religious at times, and yet their hearts go after covetousness, and they are quite at home in the circles of the gay and in the indulgence of sinful pleasures. W. J. F.
One fears his own sinful heart more than powerful external enemies.
I am more afraid of my own heart than of the pope and all his cardinals. I have within me the great pope, —self. Luther.
The human heart can never be fully satisfied with worldly things.
You may as soon fill a bag with wisdom, a chest with virtue, or a circle with a triangle, as the heart of man with any thing here below. A man may have enough of the world to sink him, but he can never have enough to satisfy him. T. Brooks.
The heart burns with love for God or self, producing light or darkness accordingly.
The heart of man is a furnace continually burning. If thou wilt nourish it with meditations of the love of God, there will appear a bright flame of love to God and man; but if thou maintain it with thoughts of self-love, then it will be full of vile smoke, stench, and darkness. Cawdray.
A good heart encompasses contentment, companionship, neighborliness, and wisdom.
There was a great master among the Jews, who hid his scholars consider and tell him what was the best way wherein a man should always keep. One came and said that there was nothing better than a good eye; which is, in their language, a liberal and contented disposition. Another said a good companion is the best thing in the world. A third said a good neighbor was the best thing he could desire; and a fourth preferred a man that could foresee things to come; that is, a wise person. But at last there came in one Eleazer; and he said a good heart was better than them all. "True," said the master: "thou hast comprehended in two words all that the rest have said. For he that hath a good heart will be both contented and a good companion, a good neighbor, and easily see what is fit to be done by him." Bo. Patrick.
A guilty conscience causes the heart to beat violently, revealing hidden sin.
In the case of the criminal who has long stifled his conscience, the heart beats violently when he labors under apprehension or anxiety. We are told of an ingenious judge, who, as an easy and expeditious way of detecting a murderer among a number of persons who were suspected, ordered them all to stand round him in a circle and uncover their bosoms. He then proceeded to lay his hand upon each in succession, over the region of the heart, and discovered the perpetrator by the violence of the palpitation.
— Gotthold
Unconverted hearts harden like frozen ground as grace's softening power withdraws.
On a winter evening, when the frost is setting in with growing intensity, and when the sun is now far past the meridian, and gradually sinking in the western sky, there is a double reason why the ground grows every moment harder and more impenetrable to the plough. On the one hand, the frost of evening, with ever increasing intensity, is indurating the stiffening clods: on the other hand, the genial rays which alone can soften them are every moment withdrawing and losing their enlivening power. Take heed that it be not so with you. As long as you are unconverted, you are under a double process of hardening. The frosts of an eternal night are settling down upon your souls; and the Sun of Righteousness, with westerling wheel, is hastening to set upon you forever more. If, then, the plough of grace cannot force its way into your ice-bound heart to-day, what likelihood is there that it will enter to-morrow?
— McCheyne
Even hard stones yield to water; stubborn hearts resist God's shaping grace.
Stones are charged with the worst species of hardness: "As stubborn as a stone." And yet the hardest stones submit to be smoothed and rounded under the soft friction of water. Ask the myriads of stones on the seashore what has become of all their angles, once so sharp, and of the roughness and uncouthness of their whole appearance. Their simple reply is, "Water wrought with us, nothing but water; and none of us resisted." If they yield to be fashioned by the water, and you do not to be fashioned by God, what wonder if the very stones cry against you! Pulsford.
Saints' hearts are in heaven even when their bodies remain on earth.
It is recorded of Edward the First, that he had a great desire to go to the Holy Land; but, being hindered by a domestic war, he gave his son a strict charge upon his deathbed, that, after his death, he should cause his heart to be conveyed thither; and to that purpose he had prepared two-and-thirty thousand pounds to defray the charge, and ordered that seven-score knights, with their several retinues, should attend it there. Thus the saints and dear children of God, though they have not their bodies in heaven, yet their hearts are there. Spencer.
Sinful actions reveal the sinful condition of the heart from which they come.
The Saviour does not stop to prove that these things come out of the heart. He asserts it because it is self-evident. When you see a thing coming forth, you are clear it was there first. Last summer, I noticed hornets continually flying from a number of decayed logs in my garden. I saw them constantly flying in and out; and I did not think myself at all unreasonable in concluding that there was a hornet's nest there. And so, if we see the hornets of sin flying out of a man, we suppose at once there is sin within him. Spurgeon.
A child's heart is kept specially for Jesus, symbolizing devotion and love.
A little boy in Sienna, during a long illness, had spoken occasionally to the evangelist Kay of going to Jesus. He conceived the odd idea of disposing among his friends, by way of legacy, of the several parts of his body. All seemed to be bequeathed, when the mother remarked that he had omitted "the dear little heart." The little patient replied, that "the little heart must be kept for Jesus."
Hearts often open to worldly things but should be locked for Jesus alone.
A lock was shown to Gotthold, constructed of rings, which were severally inscribed with certain letters, and could be turned round until the letters represented the name "Jesus." It was only when the rings were disposed in this manner that the lock could be opened. The invention pleased him beyond measure; and he exclaimed, "Oh that I could put such a lock as this upon my heart! Our hearts are already locked, no doubt, but generally with a lock of quite another kind. Many need only to hear the words 'gain,' 'honor,' 'pleasure,' 'riches,' 'revenge,' and their heart opens in a moment; whereas to the Saviour and to his holy name it continues shut."
A man's heart is fully occupied by what he constantly thinks about and desires.
A profane sea-captain came to a mission-station on the Pacific; and the missionary talked with him upon religious subjects. The captain said, "I came away from Nantucket after whales; I have sailed round Cape Horn for whales; I am now up in the Northern Pacific Ocean after whales. I think of nothing but whales. I fear your labor would be entirely lost upon me, and I ought to be honest with you. I care for nothing, by day, but whales, and I dream of them by night. If you should open my heart, I think you would find the shape of a small sperm-whale there."
A peaceful heart brings happiness and calm to life despite external circumstances.
Unless the heart be kept peaceable, the life will not be happy. If calm doth not reign over that inner lake within the soul which feeds the rivers of our life, the rivers themselves will always be in storm. Our outward acts will always tell that they were born in tempests, by being tempestuous themselves. We all desire to lead a joyous life: the bright eye and the elastic foot are things which we each of us desire; to carry about a contented mind is that to which most men are continually aspiring. Let us remember that the only way to keep our life peaceful and happy is to keep the heart at rest; for, come poverty, come wealth, come honor, come shame, come plenty, or come scarcity, if the heart be quiet, there will be happiness anywhere. But, whatever the sunshine and the brightness, if the heart be troubled, the whole life must be troubled too. Spurgeon.
Worldly success and pleasure are poisoned by the fear of losing one's soul.
"I have plunged deeply into pleasure," said one, "have sought happiness in the dancing-hall, at the gaming-table and the wine-cup; and might enjoy it, but for the thought, that, thousands of miles away, my father is daily pleading with God for my salvation." Another acknowledged, "I have amassed wealth; my success has exceeded my highest anticipation: but the fearful question, 'What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?' which, years ago, I heard in a humble church, in my native village, rings in my ears and poisons my enjoyment."
The heart is the source from which all our actions and words flow.
You have seen the great reservoirs provided by our water companies, in which the water which is to supply hundreds of streets and thousands of houses is kept. Now, the heart is just the reservoir of man; and our life is allowed to flow in its proper season. That life may flow through different pipes, — the mouth, the hand, the eye; but still all the issues of hand, of eye, of lip, derive their source from the great fountain and central reservoir, the heart; and hence there is no difficulty in showing the great necessity that exists for keeping this reservoir — the heart — in a proper state and condition; since otherwise that which flows through the pipes must be tainted and corrupt. Spurgeon.
A right heart matters more than outward circumstances or death's manner.
Sir Walter Raleigh, a noble Englishman and true Christian, was pusillanimously sacrificed by James I., and condemned to be beheaded, on a false charge of treason. The executioner asked him which way he would lay his head. He replied, "So the heart be right, it is no matter which way the head lies."
Giving the heart to Jesus is the first and most important step in doing right.
A young lady who was converted after losing a dear sister was asked, "Did you feel any more than usual interest in seeking the salvation of your soul before the sickness and death of your sister?" She replied, "Yes: I have been thinking more than usual of the subject for some months. I have been resolved all summer that I would try to do right in every thing. But," she added, "I could not help feeling all the time, that, in doing right, the first thing was to give my heart to Jesus."
A hardened heart is like a stone sheltering evil, resisting God's work.
Near by a stone, in a mass of rock that had fallen from some overhanging erag, we once came upon an adder, as it lay in ribbon coil basking on the sunny ground. At our approach the reptile stirred, uncoiled itself, and, hissing, gave signs of battle. Attacked, it retreated, and, making for that gray stone, wormed itself into a hole in its side. Its nest and home were there. And, looking on that sheltered rock, the home and nest of the adder, it seemed to me a fitting emblem of that heart which the Bible describes as "a heart of stone." Dr. Guthrie.
The heart is contested by God, the devil, and the world for our allegiance.
There is such strife for the heart as there was for Moses' body, "Give it me," saith the Lord; "Give it me," saith the Tempter; "Give it me," saith the pope; "Give it me," saith riches; "Give it me," saith pleasure; as though thou must needs give it. Now, here is the choice: whether thou wilt give it to God or to the Devil. God's heart or the Devil's heart, — whose wilt thou be? Thus doth man hang in a balance, like a young virgin which hath many suitors: some she fancieth for their parentage, some for personage, some for friends, some for wealth, some for wit, some for virtue; and, after all, chooseth the worst of all. So the heart hath many suitors besides God; that sometimes she marrieth with one, sometimes with another: the world keeps her, the flesh keeps her, the Devil keeps her; which have no more interest in her than Herod to his sister, but seek her spoil: like them that marry for riches are glad when one dies, that another may come. These suitors are like Absalom, who did not seek the hearts of the people, like David, but stole them with flattery and lies. Hearn Smith.
A humble Christian's heart may hide great spiritual riches and treasures.
The heart of many a poor neglected Christian is as if we opened some rude sea-chest, brought by a foreign ship from distant lands, which, though it have so rude an outside, is full of pearls and gems and diamonds.
