Commentary - Ecclesiastes 7:1-4

Bird's-eye view

In this section of Ecclesiastes, the Preacher, Qoheleth, begins to apply the reality of God's sovereignty over a world of vapor. Having established that man on his own cannot make sense of anything, he now shows us how a man who fears God can. And the way he does it is by turning our ordinary, worldly valuations completely upside down. What the world calls good, he calls suspect. What the world avoids, he says is better. This is not the sour pessimism of a cynic; it is the hard-headed realism of a man who has seen the end of all things under the sun. The theme here is the educational value of adversity. The Preacher is arguing that reality, true wisdom, is found not in the house of feasting and superficial laughter, but in the house of mourning, where the hard truths of our mortality are unavoidable. This is a wisdom that prepares a man for his death, which is far more important than preparing for his birthday party. Ultimately, this is a wisdom that can only be understood through the gospel, where the greatest sorrow in history, the cross, became the source of the world's greatest joy.

The structure is a series of "better than" statements, a common form in wisdom literature. Each one contrasts a superficial good with a profound, albeit difficult, good. A good name is better than fine perfume. The day of death is better than the day of birth. Mourning is better than feasting. Vexation is better than laughter. This is strong medicine, designed to shock the reader out of a shallow, hedonistic worldview and into a sober-minded fear of the Lord, which is the beginning of all true knowledge.

Outline

Context In Ecclesiastes

This passage marks a shift in the book. The first six chapters have relentlessly demonstrated the vanity, the hebel, of life "under the sun" when viewed apart from God. Solomon has chased after wisdom, pleasure, wealth, and accomplishment, and found it all to be a chasing after the wind. Chapter 6 ends with the bleak picture of a man who has everything but lacks the ability from God to enjoy it. Now, in chapter 7, the Preacher begins to provide the godly response to this reality. If everything is vapor, how then should we live? The answer is not to despair, but to fear God and embrace a wisdom that is contrary to the world's. These proverbs are the application of God's sovereignty to the futility of life. Because God is in control of this frustrating world, we can receive even the hard things, like death and mourning, as gifts from His hand that teach us what is truly important.

Key Issues

The School of Hard Knocks

Modern Western culture is dedicated to the proposition that comfort is the chief end of man. Our entire economy is geared toward minimizing pain, maximizing pleasure, and distracting us from the brute fact of our own mortality. We want the house of feasting, 24/7. We want the good-smelling oil, not the hard-won reputation. We want endless birthdays and we do our level best to ignore the reality of the funeral.

The Preacher here grabs us by the lapels and tells us that this entire project is a fool's errand. Wisdom is not found in the padded playpen of perpetual entertainment; it is forged in the crucible of adversity. God teaches us the most important lessons not when we are laughing, but when we are grieving. The house of mourning is a better school than the house of feasting because it teaches the curriculum we most desperately need: you are going to die, your life is a vapor, and you must therefore make an account to the God who gave you that life. This is not a call to be morose, but a call to be real. The fool lives in a fantasy world of his own making. The wise man lives in the world God made, and that includes the hard reality of the curse, of sin, and of death.

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 Better is a good name than good oil, And better is the day of one’s death than the day of one’s birth.

The Preacher begins with two "better than" statements that set the tone for the whole section. First, a good name is better than good oil. In that culture, fragrant oil or perfume was a high luxury, a symbol of wealth, celebration, and sensual pleasure. A "good name," on the other hand, refers to one's reputation, one's character, the sum total of a life lived with integrity. The oil is external and fleeting; you put it on, it smells nice for a while, and then it's gone. A good name is internal and lasting; it is the substance of who you are. The fool prefers the immediate, sensual gratification. The wise man understands that character is the only thing of true value. Then the Preacher really throws down the gauntlet: the day of death is better than the day of birth. From a worldly perspective, this is madness. A birth is a celebration of new life, potential, and hope. A death is the end of all that. But from the perspective of eternity, the day of birth is the beginning of a life of toil, sin, and sorrow under the sun. The day of death, for the righteous, is the end of the race, the completion of the task, the entrance into rest and the immediate presence of God. It is graduation day. The day of birth is just the first day of school.

2 Better to go to a house of mourning Than to go to a house of feasting Because that is the end of all mankind, And the living puts this in his heart.

This verse explains the logic behind the second half of the previous one. Why is death's day better? Because contemplating death is where true wisdom begins. A "house of mourning" is a funeral. A "house of feasting" is a party. The world says, "Let's party!" The Preacher says, "Go to the funeral." Why? Because the funeral tells the truth. It reminds every person there, "This is your destiny. This is the end of all mankind." The party is a temporary distraction from this reality. The funeral is a direct confrontation with it. And when "the living puts this in his heart," when a man truly internalizes the fact of his own mortality, it has a clarifying effect. It forces him to ask the big questions: What am I doing with my short life? Am I ready to meet God? The party encourages you to forget; the funeral forces you to remember. Therefore, the house of mourning is the better classroom.

3 Better is vexation than laughter, For when a face is sad a heart may be merry.

Here "vexation" or sorrow is contrasted with laughter. Again, this is completely counter-intuitive to the world. Laughter is good, right? Sorrow is bad, right? Not so fast, says the Preacher. The kind of laughter he has in mind is the frivolous, empty, superficial laughter of the fool at the feast. It is a distraction, a noise that covers up the emptiness within. Vexation, on the other hand, is a sorrow that does something to you. It works on you. As Paul would later say, godly sorrow produces repentance (2 Cor 7:10). The second line is key: "For when a face is sad a heart may be merry." This is not a contradiction. It means that an outward appearance of sorrow, a sober-minded engagement with the hardships of life, can produce a deep, abiding, internal joy. This is the joy of a man whose sins are forgiven, who knows he is right with God, and who is therefore not terrified by the troubles of the world. The fool's laughter is a frantic attempt to create happiness on the outside because there is none on the inside. The wise man's soberness is the fruit of a settled joy that is too deep to be disturbed by circumstance.

4 The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, While the heart of fools is in the house of gladness.

This verse summarizes the preceding thoughts by describing the orientation of two different kinds of people. The wise man's heart, his inner being, his true affections and thoughts, resides in the house of mourning. This doesn't mean he is a gloomy killjoy who never has fun. It means he lives his life in light of eternity. He is sober-minded. He understands the gravity of life and the reality of death, and this understanding shapes all his decisions. The fool, by contrast, has his heart in the "house of gladness" or the house of mirth. His entire orientation is toward the next party, the next pleasure, the next distraction. He lives for the moment because he refuses to think about the final moment. One man lives in reality, the other lives in a self-imposed fantasy. And the great irony is that the man who is willing to face the sorrow of reality is the one who finds true, lasting joy, while the man who frantically chases pleasure finds only vanity and vexation of spirit.

Application

The message of this passage is a direct assault on the spirit of our age. We are fools living in a continental-sized house of gladness, and we think our perpetual party is a sign of blessing. But it is a sign of judgment. We have forgotten how to mourn, which means we have forgotten how to think. We have traded wisdom for entertainment, and the result is a culture that is broad, but breathtakingly shallow.

For the Christian, these verses are a call to radical counter-culturalism. We are to be the people who are not afraid of the house of mourning, because our King has passed through death and defeated it. We can look death in the eye because we know it has lost its sting. This allows us to take life seriously. It frees us from the frantic need to be entertained and distracted. It enables us to find joy not in the absence of sorrow, but in the presence of Christ right in the middle of it.

So, go to the funeral. Weep with those who weep. Let the reality of death sober you up. Let it remind you of what is truly important: a good name before God and men, a character forged in the fires of trial, a heart made right with God through the sorrow of the cross. The world thinks this is morbid. But it is the only path to a joy that is not a vapor, a joy that is as solid and as lasting as the empty tomb of Jesus Christ.