An Inconvenient Truth

A good name is better than a good ointment, and the day of one’s death is better than the day of one’s birth. It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, because that is the end of every man, and the living takes it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for when a face is sad a heart may be happy. The mind of the wise is in the house of mourning, while the mind of fools is in the house of pleasure.
Ecclesiastes 7:1-4

Yes, Solomon needs a hug. He may suffer from a bit of depression, and probably qualifies for several rounds of counseling. But woven throughout his somber state exists truth—difficult, but necessary for wisdom and spiritual growth.

First, reputations trump goods. Mingle in a room with at least two other people and we inherently meander toward the person of better character and reputation. Any friendship matured beyond the realm of superficiality finds substance in the moral fiber of the other individual, not his/her stuff. True, riches and wealth attract people and may even create the allusion of friendship, but eventually someone richer, wiser, and more astute arrives on the scene and steals any affection away.

We relate to and interact with people based on their reputation. But we attribute intrinsic value and worth in relationships to the type of reputation and character of a particular individual. Character sustains relationships and serves as the fuel to keep them going. Depth of interpersonal connections reflects the profoundness and compatibility of the individuals. Once compromised, the relationship fractures and rehabilitation (if at all pursued) requires significant effort from then on.

Stuff produces infatuation, not sustainable relationships. Reputation and character trump worldly wealth and assets in the realm of worthwhile relationships.

With the brief backdrop of the vitality of character in our relationships, the Teacher declares the value of the day of death over the day of our birth. Anyone paying attention to the text pauses a moment at this point. The wisest man who ever lived, the man who received his wisdom straight from God Himself, asserts death’s worth over birth? Seems a bit odd.

Odd indeed. But at what point did truth begin mandating conventionality? Unfortunately, nowadays truth stands largely outside the realm of popularity. Solomon’s statement here exposes a trend that continues for generations on end.

The day of one’s death reigns over the day of birth for a couple of reasons. One, the endless treadmill cycle of mundane existence ends with death. Solomon touches on the continuous monotony of life several times throughout Ecclesiastes and reveals its only escape—looking beyond the sun and then finally getting there through death.

Second, death provides inexplicable liberation for those living beyond the sun. Christians wrestle with unnerving tension every day. We live in a fallen, broken, and fading world. The affects of sin (both internal and external) bind us and force us to depend on Christ’s sustaining grace for peace and joy amidst the abhorrence and mundaness of daily life.  We find ourselves trapped in a world leading nowhere, and we must counter it daily by investing in our eternal lives beyond the sun. Death frees us from the tension and releases us into unhindered glory—to bask in the majesty of our Maker and frolic about in the freedom we’ve tasted in bits on earth.

Our birth ushers us into a broken world where hurt serves as a baseline and goodness accents the path every once in a while. The day of death for a believer transfers us into full glory of His goodness, rid free from the broken fallibility of this world. Death consummates the relationships with Jesus Christ we entered into while on earth.

Though outside the realm of popular thought, death trumps birth in the life of a believer. Before we fall into depths of dejection and forlornness, we must acknowledge God’s intent for us to live in this world—fully aware of the tension we must live with. He uses everything—both evil and good—to accomplish His divine purposes, and faithfully provides us glimpses into our ordained eternity with Him along the way.

While living, Solomon advises the profit of entering houses of mourning rather than parties and orgies of pleasure. Already establishing Solomon needs a hug, we look beyond that fact to observe the truth of his words. Funerals hardly amount to desirable events on our social calendars. However, the wise strive to remain aware of the truths typically contemplated while attending them.

Deep conversations of life’s most philosophically challenging truths rarely surface at parties. Friends, laughter, food and drink usually produce happiness and freedom from somber contemplations. Funerals, on the other hand, accomplish the opposite by forcing us to ponder tough realities of our finiteness and mortality.

Our character develops far more profoundly during life’s valleys than mountaintops. A wise man once said, “Valleys develop our character; mountaintops reveal the character developed.” As depressing as it may seem, keeping our minds “in the house of mourning” rewards the development of our character and wisdom far beyond “the house of pleasure” ever could.

Is Solomon advocating our existence in a constant depressive state? Not exactly. Though admittedly tired of this world’s empty promises, he challenges us once again to look beyond the sun; and if ever given a choice, choose to ponder the eternal instead of mindless numbness of pleasure here.
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God created us for eternity with Him. Don’t get sidetracked by the empty pursuits of this world. Man cannot escape death, and we benefit from pondering our own mortality from time to time. Let your intellectual and spiritual endeavors thrive in accordance with God’s truth and eternal glory. Enter into His truth, and let His glory shine in life, death and everything in between.