Meditation XCV.
Meditation XCV.
THE BIRTHDAY.
Quiberon Bay, May 30, 1760.
The observation of birthdays seems to be both ancient and universal—but by none more splendidly kept than those, who, not attending to the end of their creation, have but little reason to rejoice that ever they were born. Of old, a king's birthday, in its consequences, cost our Savior's forerunner his head; but at many such feasts now-a-days, the Savior himself is crucified afresh, and put to open shame.
Surely 'to be happy' is desirable; and who can claim this—but such as remember the day of their death oftener than the day of their birth, and choose rather to go to the house of mourning than the house of feasting? If joy belongs to any on their birthday, surely it is to those, who not only know, that on such a day of the year they become one of the numerous family of mankind—but also can, by solid arguments, and on good grounds infer, that, by the second birth, they are of the family of the living God.
Job and Jeremiah, in their anguish, cursed their day of their birth; yet when the storm passed over, their souls returned to their quiet rest, and irrepressible joy. However, he who only waits for the manifestation of that glorious life, which has neither change nor end, may, to the praise of God, with an exulting bosom, talk an opposite strain: "Let the day prosper wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said, There is a child conceived. Let that day be brightness, let God regard it from above, and let the light shine upon it.
Let light, and the beaming hope of eternal life, beautify it to me. Let serenity dwell upon it, and the brightness of the day banish every gloom from it. As for that night, let the beauty of the day be spread upon it; let it be joined and added as a remarkable day to the days of the year, and let it come chief to me among the number of my months. Lo, let that night be solemn and sweet, while my anthem imitates the song above, and my soul, on wings of faith, mixes with the adoring multitude on high."
There are a variety of arguments against carnal feasting on my birth-day. Had I come into the world laughing, I might live feasting, and die rejoicing; but as I came in weeping, and breathed my first breathing in disquiet and cries, so it teaches me to live sober, and die serious. Since we are all born under the curse, why such a noisy commemoration of that day, when another sinner first burdened the earth, when another rebel against Heaven first breathed the common air? But if we are to acknowledge it as a mercy that we were born, as no doubt it is—yet it is not the way to show our gratitude to the Most High, by pampering our perishing clay. God will not be praised over our cups; then his name is often blasphemed. Such a practice is consistent in an idolatrous Belshazzar and his guests, towards gods who neither see nor hear—but he who is a Spirit will be spiritually honored.
A back-look on my life, may hinder carnal mirth on my birthday. Sin and vanity twisting with every day of my life, should make me consider on my birthday with more enlarged views than worldlings can take, how I have fallen from the noble end for which I was created, how I have sinned, and come short of the glory of God—I who have an immortal soul within me, who shall live to eternity.
One thing, however, I should consider, that since I came into this world, many thousands of my contemporaries have gone into the unseen eternal world. The forest of my acquaintances is fearfully thinned by the felling axe of death. It is a chilling thought, that so many of my companions, who lately made a figure in the mirthful world—are now enrapt up in an eternal gloom! Many of my school-fellows and comrades, of my friends and neighbors, are now no more! Yes, into my family, death has made five desolating visits—besides the redoubled blows, that made me fatherless and motherless. And though, in unbounded goodness, I survive, yet all these occurrences cry to me—that I also in a little while must die, and be no more.
In this contracted span, there are not many now who reach three-score years; yet, at such a calculation, my sun is at his height, my day arrived at noon. And shall I not yet put away the follies of youth, when I know not but my sun may go down at noon, never more to rise? Then henceforth may I be the man, yes, more, the Christian, and spend every year as my last, perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord, laying hold on every opportunity to do good, observing the conduct of Providence towards me, and doubling my diligence in the duties of true religion. And, as I am drawing nearer the unseen world, so by thinking the oftener on it, I should prepare the better for it. And as noon is followed by night; so, with loins girt, and lamp burning, I should expect the evening of death, and the coming of my great Master!
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