Going to the House of Mourning

“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 the 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.”

Yes, this is a verse from the bible (Ecclesiastes 7.1-3). Kinda crazy, huh? It’s true though. Every time I ride my bike to work I go through a cemetery. I have visited a few other cemeteries as well and each visit is a spiritual experience. During my last prolonged visit, I began to look at the names, dates, and epitaphs.

I was suddenly taken aback when I noticed one lady was buried at 100 years of age. This was not the striking part, I noticed that she was buried on the same plot as her husband – her husband whom had died 50 years before her!!! She remained faithful to him even after his death. What was her life like? Was it lonely? Did she have children? Did they constantly remind her of her dear husband? How did he die? How did God give her grace to go on for another 50 years?

What astonished me beyond reason was to see so many people from the 1800s who only lived to be 30 something and to see how many children had only aged days before their departure. It was overwhelming to try and imagine all of the sorrow which came about because of their deaths.

I noticed one gentleman bring flowers to his deceased mother and it brought me to tears. He stayed for a while and picked up twigs in the grave’s vicinity, so as to honor her place of rest.

I looked around and saw thousands of people in the ground and it was overwhelming. Then to realize that we all face the same fate. On my way back home, I could only picture the people I ran into as lying in the grave someday. I pondered, why do we honor the dead?

I wondered, where are all the doctors buried? The politicians? The activists? The civil rights leaders? The local heroes? The scum? The prisoners? The prostitutes? The judges? The lawyers?

The Epitaphs do not tell us their stories. We are not able to distinguish the righteous from the wicked. They all have the same end. The are buried next to one another and will soon be forgotten. They leave behind no lasting legacy. So, why do we strive after the wind? Why do we grasp for those things which amount to nothing? I realized that to go to the house of mourning is a good thing because it forces me to recognize what truly matters. When it all comes down to it, “the conclusion, when all has been heard, is: fear God and keep his words, because this applies to every person.”

Why is it that I still choose to feast, as opposed to going to the house of mourning? There is a time for both, but I ought to take it to heart that the one is better than the other. Do I really believe this – “no, if I am truly honest with myself.” I can see why the one has brought me closer to God and that it puts my heart in right alignment; however, because of my selfishness, it is so hard to actually live in light of this on a daily basis.

I hope and pray that God will continue to draw me to the house of mourning so that I can live in light of this one fate which befalls all men. I hope that this realization will continually remind me that I ought to stop living for myself.

I encourage each of you to visit the house of mourning so that you may enter into a time of reflection.

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