Evening Reflection
Brethren:
I cannot speak for others, but I have been guilty of the below in the past. Yet, I am striving to do better. Do not let the sun set on your anger, reconcile with the one that has caused you the anger.
RPW Sr.
Inferiors are commonly very apt to complain. If every thing be not just to their mind, they are fretting and vexing, and their hearts are hot within them; they are uneasy in their place and station, finding fault with every thing that is said or done to them. Here is wanting a quiet spirit, which would reconcile us to the post we are in, and to all the difficulties of it, and would make the best of the present state, though it be attended with many inconveniences. Those unquiet people whom the apostle Jude in his epistle compares to raging waves of the sea and wandering stars, were murmurers and complainers—blamers of their lot, so the word signifies. It is an instance of unquietness, to be ever and anon quarrelling with our allotment. Those wives wanted a meek and quiet spirit who "covered the altar of the Lord with tears:" not tears of repentance for sin, but tears of vexation at the disappointments they met in their outward condition. Hannah's meekness and quietness was in some degree wanting, when she fretted and wept, and would not eat; but prayer composed her spirit; her countenance was no more sad. It was the unquietness of the spirit of the elder brother in the parable, that quarrelled so unreasonably with his father for receiving and entertaining the penitent prodigal. Those that are given to be uneasy, will never want something or other to complain of. It is true, though not so readily apprehended, that the sullenness and murmuring and silent frets of children and servants, are as great a transgression of the law of meekness, as the more open, noisy, and avowed passions of their parents and masters. We find the king's chamberlains wroth with the king. And Cain's quarrel with God himself for accepting Abel, was interpreted as anger by God. "Why art thou wroth, and why is thy countenance fallen?" The sour looks of inferiors are as certain an indication of anger resting in the bosom, as the disdainful looks of superiors; and how many such instances of discontent there have been, especially under a continual cross, our own consciences may perhaps tell us. It is the want of meekness only that makes those whom divine Providence has put under the yoke, children of Belial, that is, impatient of the yoke.
Equals are commonly very apt to clash and contend. It is for want of meekness that there are in the church so many pulpit and paper quarrels, such strifes of words and perverse disputings; that there are in the state such factions and parties, and between them such animosities and heart burnings; that there are in neighborhoods such strifes and brawls and vexatious lawsuits, or such distances and estrangements and shyness one of another; that there are in families envies and quarrels among the children and servants, crossing, thwarting, and finding fault one with another; and that brethren that dwell together do not, as they should, dwell together in unity. It is for want of meekness that we are so impatient of contradiction in our opinions, desires, and designs, that we must have our own saying, right or wrong, and every thing our own way; that we are so impatient of competitors, not enduring that any should stand in our light, or share in that work of honor which we would engross to ourselves; that we are so impatient of contempt, so quick in our apprehension and resentment of the least slight of affront, and so pregnant in our fancy of injuries, where really there are none, or none intended. They are not only loud and professed contentions that evidence a want of meekness, but also those silent alienations in affection and conversation which make a less noise; little piques and prejudices conceived, which men are themselves so ashamed of that they will not own them: these show the spirit disturbed, and wanting the ornament of meekness. In a word, wilfully doing any thing to disquiet others, slandering, backbiting, whispering, talebearing, or the like, is too plain an evidence that we are not ourselves rightly disposed to be quiet And now, may we not all remember our faults this day; and instead of condemning others, though ever so faulty, should we not each of us bewail before the Lord that we have been so little actuated by this excellent spirit, and repent of all we have at any time said or done contrary to the law of meekness? Instead of going about to extenuate and excuse our sinful passions, let us rather aggravate them, and lay a load upon ourselves for them: "So foolish have I been and ignorant, and so like a beast before God." Think how often we have appeared before God, and the world without our ornament, without our livery, to our shame. God kept account of the particular instances of the unquietness of Israel: "They have tempted me," says he, "now these ten times." Conscience is God's register that records all our miscarriages: even what we say and do in our haste, is not so quick as to escape its observation. Let us therefore be often opening that book now, for our conviction and humiliation, or else it will be opened shortly to our confusion and condemnation. But if we would judge ourselves, we should not be judged of the Lord. May we not all say, as Joseph's brethren did—and perhaps some are, as they were, in a special manner called to say it by humbling providences—"We are verily guilty concerning our brother." Such a time, in such a company, upon such an occasion I wanted meekness; my spirit was provoked, and I spoke unadvisedly with my lips, and now I remember it against myself. Nay, have not I lived a life of unquietness in the family, in the neighborhood, always in the fire of contention, as in my element, and breathing threatenings? And by so doing have not I dishonored my God, discredited my profession, disturbed my soul, grieved the blessed Spirit, and been to many an occasion of sin? And for all this ought not I to be greatly humbled and ashamed? Before we can put on the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, we must wash in the laver of true repentance, not only for our gross and open extravagances of passion, but for all our neglects and omissions of the duties of meekness.
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