“It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind and the living will lay it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter for by sadness of face the heart is made glad. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.” Ecclesiastes 7:2-4.
Solomon
My name is Solomon. I live in the town Underthesun. Life here is dull. Never anything new. Nothing seems to have any meaning. In my boredom, I stepped out my front door looking for my friend Wisdom. Curious to know what is new with him. Hopeful he can help me find meaning in life here in Underthesun. With my best pair of walking sandals on I headed down the street.
House of Feasting
The sun was rather hot so I stopped at the House of Feasting for a drink. I pulled up a stool and asked for a water. Not sure what was so funny but the “gentleman” next to me started to laugh. I asked him his name. “Fool” was his reply. “I’m looking for Wisdom, do you know him?” “Never met him, not here anyhow,” and then he laughed again. Never realized I was so funny. “Do you come here often?” I asked Fool. “Often as I can.” More laughing. “Have a family?” “Yup.” “Do you ever bring them here?” Laughter. Now my curiosity was getting the better of me. “What’s so funny?” Nothing. “Oh.” “What brings you here?” “HaHa, I want to get away.” “From what?” “Everything.” Once again Fool laughed. “Have any hobbies?” “Nope.” “Read?” “Nope.” “What do you do when you are not here?” “T.V.” “What do you do for a living?” “Die.” “Die?” “Yup, work at Godless Die Shop.” “Don’t believe I ever heard of it, been in business long?” “The Atheist family has owned it for years.” “Good family?” “Take care of their own.” “Benefits?” “None.” Again Fool laughed. Then we were distracted by a line of cars driving by the window. “What is that all about?” I asked Fool. “Going to the House of Mourning”. “For?” “Mr. Living passed away.” “Mr. Living?” “Yes.” “Which one?” “Dr. Sober Living.” Did you know him?” “No, never wanted to meet him.” “An aversion to doctors in general?” “No, just Sober in particular.” “Might have done you some good.” “What’s that?” “Oh nothing, just thinking out loud.” Although I was not close to Mr. Living, I knew him to be a good man. He and Wisdom were close. Hearing of his passing was a dose of reality. I looked at my glass and I looked at Fool. Like the crowd around me, both were empty. It was definitely time to go. I offered to pay for Fool’s drinks. Thought it was the least I could do. I was shocked by the cost. A couple of concoctions called Superficial and Denial, not sure how Fool can afford to drink them. Oh well, I’m off to the House of Mourning. Despite the name, this House seems rather bleak.
House of Mourning
The walk to the House of Mourning gave me time to think. What is it that attracts someone like Fool to the House of Feasting? How can he afford to frequent there? Why had he never met my friend Wisdom there? How much Superficial and Denial do they serve? And how about Fool? Why did he say he never wanted to meet Sober? Why did he laugh at everything? What kind of family life did he have? Between the House of Feasting and television, how much time did he interact with his family? The only thing I knew for sure is when I left the House of Feasting, I did so with less money and more confusion. Poor Fool!
I found my chain of questions quickly broken by the House of Mourning. In proximity, it is not so far from the House of Feasting. I entered rather hesitantly. It can be intimidating entering such a place. What would I say to the family? Before I could find an excuse to walk back out I was approached by a young man with a smile on his face and his right hand extended. “Dr. Living’s son I presume?” said I. Taking grip of my right hand he replied, “Yes. Grateful Living is the name. Thank you for coming and paying your respects.” “Don’t mention it. Sorry about your loss.” “Thank you for saying so, but as Father would often repeat, to die is gain.” Gain? “Grateful, were you close to your father?” “Oh yes, he always made sure he had time for all of us. Would you like to meet the family?” “Sure.” Grateful then introduced me to his mother Grace and his siblings. They were gathered around my friend Wisdom. After we embraced, we listened earnestly as they reminisced about Sober. With tears in their eyes and Peace in their hearts, they took turns sharing. Seems Sober was quite a God fearing man. Apparently, my friend Wisdom had something to do with that. Years ago, Wisdom introduced Sober to his favorite drink, Repentance. Dr. Living always said it made him feel like a new man. Claimed it was bitter to swallow but filled him with joy. The best medicine he ever had. Suddenly, I was feeling thirsty again. “Do you suppose I could have a glass?” I asked. “Certainly, said all of the Living family.” And then Grace offered me a glass. With sorrow, I put the glass to my lips. With joy, I set it down. I finally felt fulfilled. I found Wisdom, my thirst was quenched, it was time to leave the House of Mourning.
The walk from the House of Mourning gave me time to reflect. Someday my body will be at a House of Mourning. The Living will come and pay their respects. Tears will be shed there. Memories will be shared there. Wisdom will still be there. But I won’t really be there. I will be Feasting at the House Jesus has prepared for me. Better shed the tears now. In Heaven, there is no House of Mourning.
“For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief grief produces death.” – 2 Corinthians 7:10
“Dead, your Majesty. Dead, my lords and gentlemen. Dead, Right Reverends and Wrong Reverends of every order. Dead, men and women, born with Heavenly compassions in your hearts. And dying around us every day.” Charles Dickens –Bleak House.
Thanks, great article.