House of Mourning

“It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart.” (Ecclesiastes 2:2)

Good morning, my friend…

This week is a hard week for me, for this week I will bury a friend, my brother. Not my blood brother, actually, but a chosen brother – one with whom I have walked for the past four years, one with whom I have labored on ideologies and civic duties, one with whom I have shared many victories as well as suffered painful defeats. This one was his last.

My brother had suffered some physical problems that the doctors just couldn’t quite get a firm grasp on – couldn’t definitively identify – therefore, couldn’t properly treat. Like the woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ garment, he had suffered much at the hands of many doctors and spent all he had, yet had gotten no better. His passing came as quite a shock to me because I had just spoken with him on the phone two days prior. He sounded tired, to be sure, but hopeful. We spoke of his healing, of him gaining some strength back, of future plans, and of moving on with life. Two days after our conversation, a mutual friend called with the news.

Solomon seemed to have learned this lesson in his lifetime, as well. As a child, Solomon had learned of the death of an older brother that died at birth. He had seen half-brothers die – mostly in battle, had watched his father – once a mighty man of valor and military prowess – pass on to his reward. Solomon lived during times of great cultural and political upheaval, so he was acquainted with the many ebbs and flows of life. It was Solomon who was given the privilege of building the Temple in Jerusalem to house the Presence of God Himself. He knew great wealth, he was intimately familiar with every pleasure known to mankind, his kingdom was one of peace, and nothing was withheld from him. Yet it was he who wrote our scripture reference today. I encourage you to sit down and read through the entirety of Ecclesiastes over the next week.

Friday I say “until we meet again” to my friend, my brother. I won’t say goodbye because I know I will see him again someday (hopefully not TOO soon). He has now seen the One Whom he loved face-to-face, has met those about whom we have read in scripture, and has seen what even Paul couldn’t find the words to describe. As his family, our friends, and I sit this week together and visit, we are reminded of our own mortality. It’s not something any of us make a practice of doing. We all get tangled up in the affairs of this life and the busyness of living and forget that all of this will one day pass. A hundred years from now there will only be a handful of people who can even remember our names, let alone talk of our accomplishments.

Yet we have hope – the hope of eternal life which is grounded in the One Who passed beyond the veil and is now seated at the right hand of the Father in heaven. Jesus is our foundation, our cornerstone, the baseline off which everything we do and say is laid out. He has gone before us to prepare a place for us and, as He reminded us so clearly, if He did all that He will come again and take us home to be with Him. That brings us peace and allows us to live a life of joy. Though we may have to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we fear no evil for He is there – for us and with us. Woody Allen sums up my feelings exactly on this matter: “I am not afraid of death, I just don’t want to be there when it happens.” All joking aside, death is merely a portal through which we walk to meet our Savior, Jesus Christ, face-to-face. I must leave this place to arrive there.

This week has been a long week already and it will only get longer as Friday approaches. And yet, it reminds us that no matter how busy we are, how big our plans can be, whatever dreams and wishes we hold for tomorrow, we must remember to keep the end goal in mind, which for us is heaven. Nothing I do or say must interfere with that path. I must remain vigilant in my walk and diligent in my actions, making sure nothing in this world so entangles me that I cannot run my race and receive my prize. I pray the same is true of you, my friend. We must live our lives with eternity in mind, for the call may come sooner than we expect or we may be among those still living when the trumpet sounds. Either way, I encourage you to sit awhile and ponder. Not to get discouraged or depressed and certainly not to become burdened with fear; instead, to clear out your mind and focus on the mission. Free yourself from the distractions and hindrances that hold you back or keep you from fulfilling that which God designed you to do. Be free. Be strong. And most of all…

Be blessed.