Threshing

God’s wisdom in husbandry teaches us more than farming—it shows His careful discipline of His people. Just as different seeds require distinct threshing, so does He correct each believer according to need. Let us open our hearts to His refining hand, trusting His guidance toward holiness and eternal usefulness.

“For the fitches are not threshed with a threshing instrument, neither is a cart wheel turned about upon the cu mmin; but the fitches are beaten out with a staff, and the cummin with a rod. Bread corn is bruised; because he will not ever be threshing it, nor break it with the wheel of his cart, nor bruise it with his horsemen” (Isaiah 28:27–28).

The art of husbandry was taught to man by God. Without this instruction, he would have starved while discovering it. Therefore, when the Lord sent him out of the Garden of Eden, he gave him a measure of elementary instruction in agriculture. As the prophet says, “His God instructs him to discretion, and teaches him” (Isaiah 28:26). God has taught man to plough, to break the clods, to sow different kinds of grain, and to thresh the various sorts of seeds.

The Eastern husbandman could not thresh with machinery as we do today, but he was ingenious and careful in his methods. Sometimes a heavy instrument was dragged over the corn to separate the grain. This is what is intended in the first clause by the “threshing instrument,” as also in the passage, “I have made you a sharp threshing instrument with teeth” (Jeremiah 51:20). When the corn-drag was not used, they often turned the heavy solid wheel of a country cart over the straw.

This is alluded to in the next sentence: “Neither is a cart wheel turned about upon the cummin.”

They also had flails not unlike our own, and for still smaller seeds, such as dill and cummin, they used a simple staff or a slender rod: “The fitches are beaten out with a staff, and the cummin with a rod.”

This is not the time or place for a full dissertation on threshing. Proper books provide all the information needed on the subject. The meaning of the illustration, however, is this: just as God has taught husbandmen to distinguish between different kinds of grain in threshing, so does he, in his infinite wisdom, deal discreetly with different kinds of people. He does not test us all in the same way, as we are differently constituted. He does not put all through the same agony of conviction; we are not all threshed with terrors to the same degree. He does not give all the same family or bodily affliction; one may escape with only being beaten with a rod, while another experiences, as it were, the feet of horses in severe tribulations.

Our subject is this: threshing—first, all kinds of seeds need it; second, it is done with discretion; third, it will not last forever, for as the text says, “Bread corn is bruised; because he will not ever be threshing it, nor break it with the wheel of his cart, nor bruise it with his horsemen” (Isaiah 28:28).

I. First, all of us need threshing. Some have the foolish conceit that they have no sin, but they deceive themselves, and the truth is not in them. Even the best of men are only men at the best. Being men, they are not perfect, but remain surrounded by infirmity. What is the purpose of threshing the grain? Is it not to separate it from straw and chaff?

Even the best of men still have a measure of chaff. Not all is grain on the threshing-floor. Not all is grain even in those golden sheaves joyfully brought into the garner. Even wheat is joined to straw, which was once necessary to it. Around the kernel, the husk still clings even on the threshing-floor. Even the holiest of men have something superfluous, something which must be removed. We sin either by omission or commission—whether in spirit, motive, zeal, or discretion.

If we escape one error, we often fall into the opposite. If our actions are right before doing them, we may err in the doing, or become proud afterwards. If sin is shut out at the front door, it tries the back gate, climbs in the window, or comes down the chimney. Those who cannot perceive it in themselves are frequently blinded by its smoke. They are so immersed in sin that they do not know it is raining. In my observation, I have yet to find a person the old divines would call perfectly perfect. The fully all-round man is a being I expect to see in heaven, not in this fallen world. We all need the cleansing and purging the threshing-floor is designed to accomplish.

Threshing also loosens the connection between the good grain and the husk. Of course, if the grain slipped easily from the husk, it would only need shaking. There would be no need for a staff, a rod, much less the feet of horses or the wheel of a cart. But here is the difficulty: our souls do not merely lie in the dust—they cleave to it. There is a fearful intimacy between fallen human nature and the evil in the world, and this compact is not easily broken. In our hearts, we hate every false way, yet sorrowfully confess, “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing” (Romans 7:19). Sometimes our spirit cries ardently after God, a holy will is present, yet we find not how to do the good. Flesh and blood have tendencies and weaknesses which, though not sinful themselves, incline toward sin. Appetites need but slight excitement to grow into lusts. It is not easy to forget our own kindred or our father’s house, even when the king desires our beauty. Our alien nature remembers Egypt and the flesh-pots while manna is still in our mouths. We were all born in a house of evil; some nursed on the lap of iniquity, our first companions among heirs of wrath. What is bred in the bone is hard to remove from the flesh.

Threshing is used to loosen our hold on earthly things and to break us away from evil. This requires a divine hand, and nothing but God’s grace can make threshing effective. Something is achieved when the soul ceases to cling to sin, when sin no longer brings pleasure or satisfaction. Yet, as threshing is never complete until the grain is entirely separated from the husk, so chastening and discipline are never complete until God’s people abandon every form of evil and abhor all iniquity.

When we are fully separated from the straw and chaff, the flail rests. It has required much threshing to bring some of us near that mark, and many more heavy blows will likely fall before total separation is reached. Some sins are easily removed by God’s grace early in our spiritual life, but once gone, another layer of evil appears, and the process repeats. Complete removal of our attachment to sin demands the divine skill and power of the Holy Spirit alone.

Threshing is necessary for usefulness: the wheat must be freed from the husk to serve. We can honour God and bless others only by being holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners.

O corn of the Lord’s threshing-floor, you must be beaten and bruised or perish as worthless!

Eminent usefulness usually comes with eminent affliction. Without such separation from sin, we cannot be gathered into the garner. God’s pure wheat must not be defiled by chaff.

Nothing that defiles can enter heaven; therefore, every imperfection must be removed for eternal blessedness and perfection. Even now, we cannot have true fellowship with the Father unless we are delivered daily from sin.

Some of us may lie on the threshing-floor today, suffering chastisement. What then? Rejoice, for this shows our value to God. If the wheat cried, “The great drag has gone over me, therefore the husbandman cares not for me,” we would reply: the farmer only drags over the precious wheat, not the weeds. Because he esteems the wheat, he deals sternly with it and spares it not. Do not judge that God hates you because of affliction; see instead that he honours you through every stroke. As the Lord says, “You only have I known of all the nations of the earth; therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities” (Amos 3:2). Because Christ made full atonement for his people, God does not punish us as a judge; but because we are his children, he corrects us as a father. In love, he refines his children to perfect them in his image and make them partakers of his holiness.

“I will bring them under the rod of the covenant” (Psalm 89:32). “I have refined you, but not with silver; I have chosen you in the furnace of affliction” (Isaiah 48:10).

Do not judge by what you see or feel, but by faith. Just as threshing shows the value of wheat, so affliction shows God’s delight in his people. As threshing reveals impurity, so affliction indicates the Christian’s current imperfection. If we were free from evil, correction would not be needed.

The sound of the flail is never heard in heaven, for there is no threshing there—only the garner of the fully sanctified. The threshing instrument is a humbling sign, and so long as we feel it, we should humble ourselves under God’s hand, recognising that we are not yet free from the straw and chaff of fallen nature.

On the other hand, the instrument is a prophecy of our future perfection. We are undergoing a discipline from the hand of God which will not fail: by his prudence and wisdom, we shall be completely delivered from the husk of sin. We feel the blows of the staff, yet we are being effectively separated from the evil that has so long surrounded us, and we shall one day be pure and perfect. Every tendency to sin shall be removed. “Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him” (Proverbs 22:15). If, while we are imperfect, we succeed with our children through our poor and limited correction, how much more shall the Father of spirits bring us to live unto himself through his holy discipline? If the corn understood the necessary use of the flail, it would welcome the thresher’s work.

Since we know to what tribulation tends, let us rejoice in it and yield ourselves cheerfully to its processes. We need threshing; it proves our value in God’s sight, and while it marks our imperfection, it secures our ultimate cleansing.

II. Secondly, God’s threshing is done with great discretion: “For the fitches are not threshed with a threshing instrument.” The poor little fitches, a small seed used to flavour cakes, are not crushed with a heavy drag, for such rough treatment would destroy them. “Neither is a cart wheel turned about upon the cummin”; this little seed, perhaps caraway, would be crushed by such weight. The fitches are removed from the stalks by being “beaten out with a staff,” and the cummin requires only a touch of a rod. For tender seeds, the farmer uses gentle means; for the hardier grains, he reserves the sterner processes. Consider the spiritual lesson here.

Reflect, my brother, that your threshing and mine are in God’s hands. Our chastening is not left to servants, nor to enemies: “We are disciplined by the Lord!” (Hebrews 12:6). The Great Husbandman himself directs the labourers, for they know neither the time nor the manner except as wisdom dictates. They would turn the wheel upon the cummin or attempt to thresh wheat with a staff. I have seen God’s servants try both these follies: crushing the weak and tender, and dealing softly with those who needed stern rebuke. Some ministers, elders, and godly men and women are rough with timid souls; yet we need not fear they will destroy the true-hearted, for the Lord preserves his chosen from such mistaken severity. How comforting is this! Many today would grind the tender to powder if they could.

As the Lord has not left us to man, neither has he left us to the devil. Satan may sift us as wheat, but he cannot thresh us as fitches. He may blow away chaff with his foul breath, but he does not manage the Lord’s corn: “The Lord preserves the righteous” (Psalm 37:17). Not a providential stroke is left to chance. The Lord ordains the timing, the measure, and the place. The divine decree leaves nothing uncertain; supreme love governs even the smallest events. Whether we endure the teeth of the corn-drag, the trampling of horses, or gentler touches, all is appointed by infallible wisdom. Let this comfort the afflicted.

Notice also that the instruments used for our threshing are chosen by the Great Husbandman. As the Eastern farmer has several instruments, so has our God. No form of threshing is pleasant; each seems objectionable to the one enduring it. We say, “I could bear anything but this trouble,” or “If it were the enemy, I could endure it.” Perhaps the cummin foolishly thinks horse-hooves would be gentler than the rod, or the fitches might prefer the wheel to the staff. Thankfully, the choice is left to One who judges perfectly. What can we know? “Ah!” cries a mother, “I could bear poverty, but to lose my child is too much!” Another laments, “I could lose all wealth, but to be slandered cuts me to the heart.” We cannot please ourselves in chastisement. When I was at school under my uncle, I had to find a cane for him; I never once chose a stick that pleased the one to be struck.

Either it was too thin or too thick, and I was threatened with punishment if I failed next time. I learned never to expect God’s children to like the rod that corrects them. You may smile at my simile, yet you may find yourself crying, “Any trial but this, Lord.” Trials are seldom pleasant; indeed, almost every useful medicine is unpleasant, almost every effective surgery painful. No trial is joyous in the present, yet it is right, and right despite its bitterness.

Notice also that God selects the place. Eastern farmers have large threshing-floors for corn or barley, but near the house, I have seen smaller circles of hardened clay or cement where garden seeds are carefully beaten. Some saints are not afflicted in common life but bear sorrow in the innermost spirit; they are threshed on a smaller, private floor, yet the effect is no less real. How foolish to rebel against the Lord’s appointment, as if we could choose our own afflictions! “Should it be according to thy mind?” Should the grain appoint its thresher? Should a child choose the rod?

Leave these matters to higher wisdom. Some complain of timing: to be crippled in youth, poor in age, or widowed with young children. Yet there is wisdom. Just as a physician arranges doses for effectiveness, so the Lord knows when we should drink the cup he prepares. A dear saint endures a trial in old age; though I would shield him, our heavenly Father knows best. The instrument, the place, the measure, the time, and the purpose are appointed by infallible love.

The text also shows the limit of threshing. The farmer beats to separate the seed, but not to destroy it. The wheel does not grind; the horse’s feet do not smash. He removes the cummin from its husk without crushing it. Likewise, the Lord measures all chastening. Courage, tried friend: you shall be afflicted as you need, but not as you deserve. Tribulation comes as you can bear it. The wheat may feel the wheel, but the fitches bear nothing heavier than a staff. No saint is tempted beyond measure; every stroke is bounded by tender wisdom.

It is easy to say this in calm reflection, harder under the flail. Yet I have experienced it in pain and mental distress. I thank God for my afflictions; I never doubted his wisdom. The Great Husbandman knows how to separate us from the husk, and his method deserves eternal praise.

It is comforting that God’s limit is absolute: “If trials six be fixed for men, They shall not suffer seven.

If God appoint afflictions ten, They shall not be eleven.”

The law allowed forty stripes save one; in all our scourging, the “save one” appears. When God multiplies sorrows, it is because previous measures failed; no power can give us one blow above the set number. The Lord never plays with his saints’ feelings. “He does not afflict willingly” (Lam. 3:33). No unnecessary blow is given.

The wisdom of the farmer in limiting threshing is far exceeded by God’s wisdom in setting a limit to grief. Some endure little, perhaps due to frailty. Delicate seeds must not be beaten; saints with weak bodies shall not be roughly handled. Perhaps their minds are fragile, and what others bear lightly would be fatal to them; they are kept as the apple of God’s eye.

If you are free from tribulation, do not ask for it. A brother recently worried because he had no trouble; I said, “Rejoice while you may.” Only a foolish child would beg for flogging. Some gentle, shining saints are spared harsh treatment; they neither need it nor could bear it. Why wish for it?

Others endure heavy pressure. Yet if they are superior grain, intended for greater use, let them not regret it. The bread corn must go under horse’s feet and the cart wheel; the most useful must undergo the sternest processes. None among us would say, “I wish I were Martin Luther or as noble as him?” Yet besides outward perils, his inward trials were such none would wish to bear.

He faced Satanic temptations and despair, riding storms of conflict, then lay broken and trembling.

We only see public heroes, not their private suffering; the bread corn is bruised, and those comforting others often suffer most. Envy no one; you do not know how they were threshed to make them right.

God uses discretion in chastening; let us do likewise with others. Be gentle with children; rebuke brothers tenderly. Do not drive horses over tender seed. Remember: cummin is beaten with a staff, not crushed with a wheel. Perhaps leave the rod to wiser hands; sow and let elders thresh.

Let us trust in God’s discretion. Do not seek escape from affliction. When praying, say, “Nevertheless, not my will.” Part freely with your chaff. To escape the flail, separate from the husk quickly: “Come out from among them” (2 Cor. 6:17). Separate from sin and sinners; the process completes sooner. God make us wise!

III. Thirdly, the threshing will not last forever. It will not occupy all our days: “Bread corn is bruised, but he will not always thresh it” (Isaiah 28:28). “For a little while I have forsaken you, but with great mercies I will gather you” (Isaiah 54:7). “He will not always rebuke, nor will he keep his anger forever” (Psalm 103:9). “Weeping may stay for the night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5). Rejoice, daughters of sorrow; be comforted, sons of grief; hope in God, for you shall yet praise him. The rain does not always fall, clouds do not always return; sorrow and sighing shall flee. Threshing is not needed year-round; mostly the flail rests. Bless the Lord, O my soul! He will yet bring home the banished.

Above all, tribulation will not last forever. We shall soon be taken to a better world, where there are no threshing-floors or corn-drags. I sometimes hear the herald’s call: “Up and away! Boot and saddle! Leave the camp and the battle, and return in triumph!” The night is far spent, but morning comes. The day breaks over the hills. The eternal day comes. Come, eat your bread with joy, and march with a merry heart; the land flowing with milk and honey is near. Until the day breaks, abide the Great Husbandman’s will, and may the Lord glorify himself in you. Amen.