Thoughts from the House of Mourning
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. (Ecl. 7:2)
Recently I have visited the “house of mourning.” For some reason, the end of 2021 and early 2022 brought many deaths into my life, including the death of my mother on the day before Thanksgiving. Now, thinking about all this loss, I must admit that while I assent to the author of Ecclesiastes’ teaching, at times the house of feasting seems far more enticing than the alternative. Mourning is hard. These friends who died within the last few weeks were committed Christians, and their families share hope mingled with devastation, but the body of Christ has still lost key members. While, as one funeral speaker affirmed, sudden death—no matter how personally surprising—is not God’s Plan B, I often wish for more clarity about how to proceed within God’s Plan A. As another mourner lamented, “We all want to go to heaven, and see Christ’s face, but what is so hard is that we go one-at-a-time.”
While not nearly as eloquent as the mourners I quote above, I will use this blog to review five lessons I learned and relearned during this recent season of grief and loss:
One—Our times are in God’s hands. Whether expected or a total surprise, the recent deaths have reminded me that God decides when and how we meet Him. Each of us is called to live ready for heaven.
Two—Whom we have influenced in this life carries a much more lasting impact than what we did. We change history through the investments we make in people. People pay God’s goodness forward. People’s lives are our legacies: we can pass to those we touch an inheritance more valuable than money.
Three—God uses all kinds of people. I know many stories about the people I now miss. I know as well their limitations. Whether a PTA President mom or a trout-fishing dad, a businessman or the loving grandmother, a friend at the firepit and one at the weekly brunch, no one can do it all. And no one can always do “it” well. These funerals remind me that it is before our Master we stand and fall.
Four—Death without the reality of the resurrection is a horror. With the death of two beloved friends only twenty-four hours apart, I was able to “compare funerals.” Since then I helped to plan one. These two earlier funerals affected how I planned. One was a treatise on death; the other was a celebration of the One who triumphed over death. Both events dealt in truth, both recalled the lives of committed believers, but only the resurrection-focused celebration of life left me comforted. Without the Christ’s resurrection, the “first fruits” (1 Corinthians 15:20-23) of many to still to follow, nothing makes sense.
Five—Death is the last enemy—it is fickle and cruel, ugly and final. No wonder the writer of Hebrews (2:15) speaks of those who “were held in slavery all their lives by the fear of death.” The good news is that Christ has broken the back of death; it no longer terrifies: it no longer enslaves. Life beyond death exists and makes living for Christ in this death-shadowed world worth it.
The house of mourning holds a surprising beauty. Within its walls, the glory of the resurrection shines brightly.
