The Bible’s message could be boiled down to this: Live every day in light of the end. Everyone dies, but most people live in denial of that fact.

God wants us to see how foolish it is to deny our own mortality. He urges us to look death straight in the eye. Face up to it. Because only when we come to terms with the fact of our own death will we be prepared for it.

Better to Be at a Funeral than a Feast

People love to argue about what is better.

We do this all the time. This book is better than that book. This vacation spot is better than that one. This political candidate is better than that terrible one. In the Book of Ecclesiastes, the Preacher (likely Solomon) gives a list of comparisons, to make us think about our own mortality. It begins this way:

A good name is better than precious ointment,
    and the day of death than the day of birth. (Ecclesiastes 7:1, ESV)

This is a theme that comes up in Proverbs, too, which gives us another reason to think Solomon wrote this book.[1] He’s saying, “Who cares if you smell like a bed of roses, if your reputation stinks!” In other words, far more important than coming into a room smelling like Chanel No. 5 is putting on a character that others want to be around.

So far, so good. This makes sense. But then Solomon says something strange: He says “the day of death” is better “than the day of birth” (v. 1). What could he possibly mean?

When I first read that, I was confused. The day of birth is filled with rejoicing and gladness. But the day of death? That’s always marked by emotional pain and mourning because you’ve lost someone rather than gained someone.

So, what does Solomon mean? It’s probably a good idea to keep reading.

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. (Ecclesiastes 7:2, ESV)

Solomon says, “It’s better to be at a funeral than a feast.” But why? “For this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.” That’s another way of saying, “Attending a funeral reminds you that one day it will be you in the coffin, not someone else.”

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. (Ecclesiasts 7:3-4, ESV)

At first, this sounds so morose, something akin to the cute little star in The Super Mario Bros. Movie, who spouts nihilistic statements like, “The only hope is the sweet relief of death.” But Solomon is not a nihilist. Here’s the key: “The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning.” What’s the point? When you’re at a funeral, you’re coming face to face with reality. This life doesn’t go on forever. All who came before us have died. And—unless Jesus returns first—you reading this will one day die. That’s not being morbid. That’s simply the truth.

Death, Our Teacher

So why would the day of death be better than the day of birth? Let’s think about this. The day a baby is born, it’s exciting, but no one really knows anything about that little one. No one knows what kind of person they will be. There’s not a lot to say about the baby herself other than, “Look at how cute she is” or “She looks just like her mother.”

But on the day of someone’s death, you have an entire lifetime to reflect on. You can consider what the person’s character was like. You can think of all the memories you shared, their laugh, their personality, their accomplishments, their failures, and whether they lived for their Maker.

The coffin is a better evangelist than the crib.

Solomon’s point is that the man at the funeral has an opportunity to stop, look death in the eye, and consider his own end—where everything is leading. When you’re at a party, you’re just living in the moment. You’re having fun. That’s not bad in itself. Celebrations are a gift from God. In fact, God is supremely happy and wants His children to be happy.[2] We are even commanded to rejoice in the Lord (Philippians 4:4). But parties don’t prepare you for what comes next.

Death can be our teacher, reminding us to live in light of the end.

The thought of death focuses the mind. It forces us to think about meaning – what is it all for anyway? It compels us to ask the question, “What comes next?” and “How can I be sure of where I’m going?”

If you’re going on a rock-climbing expedition, the time to learn how to climb isn’t when you’re there on the edge of the precipice. You must learn ahead of time and prepare yourself.

And Solomon’s point is this: “If we always avoid the thought of death, we won’t be prepared when it comes for us.”

The coffin is a better evangelist than the crib.

Why Deny the Obvious?

Ernest Becker wrote a book called The Denial of Death. As far as I know, Becker is not a Christian, but he observes that people tend to deny the reality of death in their daily lives.

He says:

“… the idea of death, the fear of it, haunts the human animal like nothing else: it is the mainspring of human activity—activity designed largely to avoid the fatality of death, to overcome it by denying in some way that it is the final destiny of man.”

He goes on:

“All culture, all man’s creative life-ways, are in some basic part of them a fabricated protest against natural reality, a denial of the truth of the human condition, and an attempt to forget the pathetic creature that man is.”

He’s starting to sound a bit like Ecclesiastes, isn’t he? What’s he saying? When you consider human culture and behavior as a whole, you see that man is constantly trying to distract himself from the thought of death. Why? Because he’s afraid of death.

Becker is actually agreeing with the Bible. Jesus came to rescue us from this fear.

Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil—and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. (Hebrews 2:14-15, NIV)

When Jesus came to bear our sin and guilt on the cross, He was allowing death to do its worse to Him. And by dying in our place, He broke the power of death and the devil, so that we would no longer have to live like slaves haunted by the thought of death.

People deny death in a myriad of ways. One of the ways we do that is through our self-made “immortality projects.” These “immortality projects” are ways people try to live on—symbolically—apart from Jesus.

For some, the whole idea is to live on through children. They figure, “Even if I can’t live forever, I can live on through my kids.” Or some people will try to leave a big enough mark on the world by writing books, running for office, or building a corporate empire. Even atheists long to live on in some way.

That’s why so many long for fame and fortune. In the back of their minds, they’re thinking, “I can’t live forever literally. But I can at least become so famous that people will remember me.” Even during their lives, celebrities are worshipped. The hope is that if they can just get people to know and remember their name, it’s a way for them to live on.

P. T. Barnum, of circus fame, was often criticized early in his career. His response was: “I don’t care what the newspapers say about me as long as they spell my name right.”

People long to be remembered, but the big question is Why?

Their Deeds Follow Them

Every one of us has this desire to be immortalized, to know our lives count for something greater and longer lasting than 70, 80, or 90 years.

This is one reason people think so much about their legacy—how they will be remembered—especially when they’re getting older. People hope to be thought of well by others after they’re gone.

This idea is at the heart of A Christmas Carol, the little book by Charles Dickens. Scrooge has lived selfishly for much of his life, but then the Ghost of Christmas Future leads him to a graveyard and points a long finger at the headstone that reads “Ebenezer Scrooge.”

Scrooge shutters and says, “Hear me! I’m not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been.” It is only when Scrooge faces up to his own impending death that he suddenly realizes he has no legacy. And from that moment onward, he vows to change and live a generous life.

That is the effect of facing up to our own death. And that is one way we live wiser in light of our own death. But leaving a good legacy still doesn’t change the fact of death.

Here’s the point. If you reject the God who gives you eternal life, you still try to live on in other ways. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says “eternity” is still in your heart. You still long for immortality, even if you turn away from the God who can give it to you.

Wanting to leave a good legacy isn’t wrong. The problem is that it can put the emphasis on the wrong thing. When we care about leaving a worldly legacy more from self-preservation than from love, then it won’t last. Along with the worldly trends, it will eventually be forgotten.

Consider what the Apostle John writes in Revelation:

And I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.” “Blessed indeed,” says the Spirit, “that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them!” (Revelation 14:13, ESV)

For those who die in the Lord—who have trusted in Christ as Savior—their deeds follow them. The world will eventually forget them, but they aren’t forgotten in Heaven. God keeps a record of what you do for His glory.

Have thoughts on this post? Feel free to comment below!

---

[1] Proverbs 10:7; 22:1

[2] See Nehemiah 8:10

Photo from the Jim Carrey’s 2009 film A Christmas Carol.