Yea, he came seeking fruit on this fig-tree.  The church is the place of God’s delight, where he ever desires to be; there he is night and day.  He is there to seek for fruit, to seek for fruit of all and every tree in the garden.  Wherefore assure thyself, O fruitless one, that thy ways must needs be open before the eyes of the Lord.  One black sheep is soon espied, although in company with many; it is taken with the first cast of the eye; its different color still betrays it.  I say, therefore, a church and a profession are not places where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves from God, that seeks for fruit:  “My vineyard,” saith God, “which is mine, is before me.”  Song 8:12; Psa. 26:8; 1 Kings, 9:3; Song 4:13-15.

Barren soul, how many showers of grace, how many dews from heaven, hast thou enjoyed!  How many times have the silver streams of the city of God run gliding by thy roots, to cause thee to bring forth fruit!  These showers and streams, and the drops that hang upon thy boughs, will all be accounted for; and will they not testify against thee, that thou oughtest of right to be burned?  Hear and tremble, O thou barren professor!

When a man seeks for fruit on a tree, he goes round it and round it, now looking into this bough and then into that; he peeps into the inmost boughs and the lowermost boughs, if perhaps fruit may be thereon.  Barren fig-tree, God will look into all thy boughs.

There is a man that hath a hundred trees in his vine yard, and at the time of the season he walketh into his vineyard to see how the trees flourish; and as he goes and views and pries and observes how they are hung with fruit, behold, he cometh to one where he findeth naught but leaves.  Now he makes a stand, looks upon it again and again; he looks also here and there, above and below; and if, after all this seeking, he finds nothing but leaves thereon, then he begins to cast in his mind how he may know this tree next year, what stands next it, or how far it is off the hedge; but if there be nothing there that may be as a mark to know it by, then he takes his hook and giveth it a private mark, saying, Go thy way, fruitless fig-tree, thou hast spent this season in vain.

Yet doth he not cut it down—­“I will try it another year; may be this was not a hitting season.”  Therefore he comes again next year to see if now it have fruit; but as he found it before, so he finds it now, barren, barren, every year barren; he looks again, but finds no fruit.  Now he begins to have second thoughts.  How, neither hit last year nor this!  Surely the barrenness is not in the season, sure the fault is in the tree; however, I will spare it this year also, but will give it a second mark; and, it may be, he toucheth it with a hot iron, because he begins to be angry.