What Pleasure Cannot Teach

A good name is better than fine perfume, and one’s day of death is better than his day of birth. It is better to enter a house of mourning than a house of feasting, since death is the end of every man, and the living should take this to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for a sad countenance is good for the heart. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure (Ecc. 7:1-4).

“Being unable to cure death, wretchedness and ignorance, men have decided, in order to be happy, not to think about such things.” —Blaise Pascal

Pascal is right. Most of us choose not to think about the harsh realities of life so long as we can help it. Especially that one which haunts all of our dreams — our own mortality. Yet, Solomon counsels us differently: “It is better to enter a house of mourning…” and “The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning…” Why is that? What’s his rationale?

How could this possibly make life better?

Well, first of all, there is a kind of clarity to be had in the house of mourning that the house of pleasure simply cannot provide. The key phrase is “the living takes it to heart” — meaning mourning creates spiritual clarity that pleasure often obscures.

It forces reflection.

It confronts the reality of mortality.

It exposes pride, distractions, and illusions.

It reorients priorities.

It humbles the heart and makes a person teachable.

So when Solomon says the wise “heart” is in the house of mourning, he means the wise choose environments and situations that shape them toward humility, repentance, and sobriety. Traits that most of us would like to have, but perhaps not willing to pay the price to have them — contemplating and experiencing the suffering of this life and the ultimate loss of it.

“It is appointed once for man to die, afterward comes judgement” (Heb 9:27).

Death may feel distant at times even though we know better. Live long enough and you’ll stand beside enough caskets to learn the lesson, yet somehow it always seems to happen to someone else.

It’s hard to picture yourself in such a state, but Scripture won’t let us dodge the Truth.

I often think of the words from Susquehanna by Liz Rosenburg:

I knew we were all going to die


but not then, and not right away;


because in those days


there were more days to come.


I thought I could not


run out of them.

Life is short — far shorter than we like to admit — and that alone should shake every one of us awake. If we know our days are limited, then we ought to get busy doing

the things that truly matter.

You see, Solomon is not anti-joy. He is anti-illusion.

Sorrow — especially reflecting on death — knocks down illusions that keep a person foolish. Pleasure often feeds those illusions. It’s a distraction. The record shows we are far more willing to flit away time with distractions than soberly consider the end of our days. Yet this is precisely what God would have us do:

“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Ps. 90:12).

Numbering our days, mourning, evaluating self, and examining life in light of God becomes the antidote to our illusions —illusions that earthly pursuits can secure lasting joy and peace.

The point is not that Christians should avoid any earthly joy, nor is this about advocating morbid pessimism. The warning is that a pleasure-centered life blinds the heart, but a Truth-centered life requires facing hard realities.

No amount of godliness guarantees a long life on Earth, even as one follows Christ. The fastest, healthiest runner may be taken sooner than anticipated. But if a man is cut down while seeking first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, well, he dies in the right fight. The Good Fight. He will at last taste the victory for “…this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith” (1 Jn. 5:4). Such a man can say along with Paul:

“Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing” (2 Tim. 4:8).

Such men don’t fear death — they welcome it. They rejoice when it draws near and count it a blessing when their long, weary pilgrimage finally ends. They know the Truth: no one is ultimately blessed until the race is finished. Not before. Not in the middle. Only at the end. When they finally hear the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You were faithful with a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your Master."

How can you look forward to such a day?

There’s no point in saying, “When I’m dead, that’s it. I’m finished. Nothing comes after.”

“The hour is coming in which all who are in the graves shall hear His voice, and shall come forth — those who have done good, to the resurrection of life; and those who have done evil, to the resurrection of damnation” (Jn. 5:28–29).

The empty tomb of Jesus guarantees His authority to keep that promise. Whether you believe it or not does not change reality. Resurrection and judgement are as certain as dying. There will be no atheists on the last day — the staunchest will finally have to admit what he really knew all along for “what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them” (Rom. 1:19). Denial is not the answer.

“All things are naked and open to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account” (Heb. 4:13). Every word, every deed, every hidden thought — you will face them. God urges you now by persuasion and grace to submit willingly (Phil. 2:13). But whether you submit now or not, you will submit then. “Every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord” (Phil. 2:10–11). That includes you. When He calls you to stand before Him, you will stand. When He commands, “Depart into everlasting fire,” you will obey.

“So I will be lost just because I don’t believe in Jesus or obey what the Bible says?”

Jesus answered that question a long time ago: “If you do not believe that I am He, you will die in your sins” (Jn. 8:24). “Not everyone who says to Me ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father” (Matt. 7:21). God does not forget the righteous. And the promises He has made — “exceedingly great and precious promises” — will be kept. If we are in Christ and faithful — will receive them.