We need a heart transplant

 

And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you.  And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.  --Ezekiel 36:26

Twice in the book of Ezekiel God promised to remove the heart of stone in His people, and replace it with a heart of flesh.  The first example is found in Ezekiel 11:19-20.  It says, "And I will give them one heart, and a new spirit I will put within them.  I will remove the heart of stone from their flesh and will give them a heart of flesh, that they may walk in my statutes and keep my rules and obey them.  And they shall be my people, and I will be their God."

By the time I read the second passage this week in Ezekiel 36:25-27, I knew I wanted to write about it.  I tried desperately to think of hardhearted people that everyone knew, to kind of kick off the discussion.  I am sure you can think of someone in your life that you might describe as hardhearted.  The only universal examples I could think of were fictional characters, like the Grinch or Simon LeGree from Uncle Tom's Cabin.  Then I read a devotional from Andrew Wommack Ministries Australia (see the teaching article at https://www.awmaust.net.au/hardness-of-heart/).

When we think of scriptural examples of a person's heart being hardened, we tend to look at the story of Pharaoh in the Old Testament book of Exodus.  However, there is a New Testament example that often gets overlooked.  In the gospel of Mark, we are told that the disciples' hearts were hardened.  Turn with me to Mark chapter 6, starting in verse 34. 

When He went ashore He saw a great crowd, and He had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.  And He began to teach them many things.  And when it grew late, His disciples came to Him and said, "This is a desolate place, and the hour is now late.  Send them away to go into the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat."  But He answered them, "You give them something to eat."  And they said to Him, "Shall we go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread and give it to them to eat?"

Jesus knew the condition of their hearts.  When the crowd gathered to hear Him speak, He had compassion on them.  The disciples feigned compassion, but were more concerned about themselves.  Think about it.  Jesus was speaking to the crowds for quite a long time.  He "taught them many things."  The disciples were growing tired and hungry.  "Um, Jesus," they said, "it's getting kind of late.  These people must be getting hungry (I know we are).  Can we, um, break up this Bible study and send these good folks to the nearby towns and villages so they can grab a bite?"

How many times have we been at a church service on Sunday morning when the sermon seems to go on too long?  We look at our watch, and see it's already past noon.  Doesn't the preacher know that all the restaurants fill up by noon?  If he goes on any longer, there'll be a long line.  Or worse, we'll have to go home and start dinner there, and by the time the food's ready we'll all be starving."  We might even suggest to the preacher the next time we see him that he should time his sermons better, for the sake of the children.

Just like the local church pastor knows in his heart that the grumblers are not concerned about children, Jesus knew that that the disciples were not concerned with the people as much as they were concerned with their own interests.  Jesus said, "You know, you're right.  These people must be starving.  Let's find them some food."  The disciples' true feelings were brought to light.  "You mean us?  Feed them? Why, that would cost almost a year's wage!"

You know the rest of the story.  They found a young boy who had packed a small lunch, and Jesus was able to turn it into enough to feed the huge crowd, with basketfulls left over.  The purpose of this miracle was not so much meeting the physical needs of the 5000 as it was to get the disciples to have faith in Jesus.

Did they learn their lesson?  Apparently not.  In fact, we see in verse 45 that the disciples were again arguing with Jesus.  I don't think I'm taking too many liberties by drawing this conclusion, given what happened next.  Jesus says, "Okay, guys, I'm going to send the crowds home.  I want you to get back into the boat and to across the lake.  I'll meet you in Bethsaida, on the opposite shore."

Like petulant children, they argued.  

"But Lord, how are You getting to the other side? Don't you want us to wait for you?"

"But Lord, we don't want to go without You."

"But Lord, the wind is coming up fast and blowing hard.  Don't you see those whitecaps?"

Jesus heard the "buts" and made them get in the boat anyway.  "Immediately He made His disciples get into the boat." (Mark 6:45).  Their faith still needed work.

You know the rest of this story as well.  The wind was against them.  Under normal circumstances, the trip would have taken a couple of hours.  In this case, they were still out in the middle of the lake six hours later.  Jesus had been spending His time praying, and when He saw them, He had compassion on them, with the same compassion He had shown the hungry crowd of 5000.  

Pay close attention to verse 52.  Jesus got into the boat with them after walking across the water, and the wind stopped completely.  "And they were utterly astounded, for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened." (Mark 6:52)

Jesus saw their hearts, still made of stone.  Had they learned anything from the feeding of the 5000?  Apparently not.  They argued with Jesus about getting into the boat.  They struggled against the wind for hours on end instead of calling out to Him.  When He did arrive, were they joyful?  No.  They were fearful.  Their hearts were stony.

What does it mean to have a heart of stone?  In an 1862 sermon, Charles Spurgeon said that a hard heart shared these characteristics with stone: it is cold, it is hard, it is dead, it is not easily softened, and utterly senseless.  By it's nature, you can't change a stone to flesh.  You can drill holes in it to fill it with blood, but it won't pump the blood.  You can throw it around, but it will not move itself.  You can lecture to it, but it will not learn.  You can do CPR on it, but it will not come alive.  You don't need to change the nature of your own heart.  You need a heart transplant.

Matthew Henry's Commentary on Ezekiel 36 says this about the promises of God:

That God would give them a new heart, a disposition of mind excellent in itself and vastly different from what it was before. God will work an inward change in order to a universal change. Note, All that have an interest in the new covenant, and a title to the new Jerusalem, have a new heart and a new spirit, and these are necessary in order to their walking in newness of life. This is that divine nature which believers are by the promises made partakers of.

That, instead of a heart of stone, insensible and inflexible, unapt to receive any divine impressions and to return any devout affections, God would give a heart of flesh, a soft and tender heart, that has spiritual senses exercised, conscious to itself of spiritual pains and pleasures, and complying in every thing with the will of God. Note, Renewing grace works as great a change in the soul as the turning of a dead stone into living flesh.

Hosea 10:12 says, "Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap steadfast love; break up your fallow (or stony) ground, for it is time to seek the Lord, that He may come and rain righteousness upon you."  Jesus explained the Parable of the Sower in Matthew 13:18-23.  He explained seed that falls on the path as the Gospel that falls on hardened ground where it can't take root.  There is hope for this type of heart, if only the "ground" is worked, dug up and the soil loosened.  What about the stony ground? The "seed" that is "sown" in this heart is choked out by tribulation or persecution.  This person will fall away, no matter what.  There is no hope for him.

We, like the disciples, have hearts that are hardened.  We need a heart transplant.  Only God can do that for us.  Spurgeon quoted this hymn in his study, that I'd like to share here.

Can aught beneath a power divine
The stubborn will subdue?
'Tis thine, eternal Spirit, thine,
To form the heart anew.

To chase the shades of death away
And bid the sinner live!
A beam of heaven, a vital ray,
'Tis thine alone to give.