I say, heart must be set to heart, and back to back, or the sap will not be conveyed from the root to the branch; and I say, this must be done by a wound. The Lord opened the heart of Lydia, as a man openeth the stock to graft in the scions, and so the word was let into her soul, and so the word and her heart cemented, and became one (Acts 16:14).
Why is Christ bid to gird his sword upon his thigh? and why must he make his arrows sharp, and all, that the heart may with this sword and these arrows be shot, wounded, and made to bleed? Yea, why is he commanded to let it be so, if the people would bow and fall kindly under him, and heartily implore his grace without it? (Psa 45; 55:3,4). Alas! men are too lofty, too proud, too wild, too devilishly resolved in the ways of their own destruction; in their occasions, they are like the wild asses upon the wild mountains; nothing can break them of their purposes, or hinder them from ruining of their own precious and immortal souls, but the breaking of their hearts.
Why is a broken heart put in the room of all sacrifices which we can offer to God, and a contrite spirit put in the room of all offerings, as they are, and you may see it so, if you compare the text with that verse which goes before it; I say, why is it counted better than all, were they all put together, if any one part or if all external parts of worship, were they put together, could be able to render the man a sound and a rightly made new creature without it? 'A broken heart, a contrite spirit, God will not despise'; but both thou, and all thy service, he will certainly slight and reject, if, when thou comest to him, a broken heart be wanting; wherefore here is the point, Come broken, come contrite, come sensible of, and sorry for thy sins, or thy coming will be counted no coming to God aright; and if so, consequently thou wilt get no benefit thereby.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] This is beautifully and most impressively described in the Pilgrim's Progress, when the bitter feelings of poor Christian under convictions of sin, alarm his family and put it quite 'out of order.'—Ed.
[2] This quotation is from the Genevan or Puritan version of the Bible.—Ed.
[3]. 'Fish-whole' is a very striking and expressive term, highly illustrative of the feelings and position of David when he was accosted by the prophet. The word 'whole' is from the Saxon, which language abounded in Bunyan's native county of Bedford—first introduced by an ancient colony of Saxons, who had settled there. It means hale, hearty, free from disease, as a fish is happy in its native element—'They that are WHOLE, need not a physician, but they that are sick,' Luke 5:31. David had no smitings of conscience for his cruelty and enormous guilt; he was like a 'fish whole,' in the full enjoyment of every providential blessing; while, spiritually, he was dead in sin. God loved and pitied him, and sent a cunning angler. Nathan the prophet there in the bait, which David eagerly seized; the hook entered his conscience, and he became as a fish wounded, and nigh unto death.—Ed.
[4] The words of Tindal are, 'The sacrifice of God is a troubled sprete, a broken and a contrite hert, O God, shalt thou not despise.' The same Hebrew word occurs in the original, both as to the spirit and the heart. Bunyan is quite right in preferring our authorised version of this verse. Coverdale, Tindal, Taverner, and Cranmer, all agree. The Genevan uses 'a contrite spirit,' and the Bishops 'a mortified spirit.'—Ed.
[5] No one could speak more feelingly upon this subject than our author. He had been in deep waters—in soul-harrowing fear, while his heart—hard by nature—was under the hammer of the Word.—'My soul was like a broken vessel. O, the unthought of imaginations, frights, fears, and terrors, that are affected by a thorough application of guilt, yielded to desperation!' Like the man that had his dwelling among the tombs.—Grace Abounding, No. 186.
[6] The Christian, if he thinks of possessing good motions, joins with such thoughts his inability to carry them into effect. 'When I would do good, evil is present with me.' How different is this to the self-righteous Ignorance, so vividly pictured in the Pilgrim's Progress:—