Sobriety Spiritual
It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart. — Ecclesiastes 7:2
Death, mourning, hard times - they have a way of sobering us up, don’t they?
After losing my dad to cancer at the age of 14, I became keenly aware of which peers understood the full weight of that and which ones did not. It was as though it became an unspoken rite of passage into a deeper understanding of the world and our place in it - an understanding most of my friends had not experienced yet at ground level.
Some could commiserate about losing a beloved grandparent or even a close friend, but very few of my friends knew what it meant to lose a parent at that age. Few understood the absolute upheaval of that single moment crashing against all that had prior been familiar and safe. When grandpa died, no one had to move, navigate a loss of income, or inherit an unwanted step-parent; no, for many after such a death, life went on much as it had before - even in the sorrow. But for the child who loses a parent, nothing - not one thing - remains the same after that day. All at once, one is forced to navigate loss, sorrow, and the complete corrosion of all that was childhood prior.
It was a lonely place. A place of disconnect for me with many of my peers. At the height of my friends’ reckless behaviors — driving too fast, drinking, becoming sexually active, etc… — I was pulling back, reining in, painfully aware of the brevity and gift of life. Sure, beneath all of my caution tape (six feet deep), I was an emotional wrecking ball… but cautionary tales held me together and in good form, even if I was a ticking time-bomb under the pressure of getting things right (so as to avoid more pain). Despite the internal mess, externally I had been to the house of mourning and understood the “destiny of everyone” — no matter how cool, proud, or risky their facade.
I’d rather be feasting.
Wouldn’t we all?
The house of mourning smells like death. You’ve probably caught a whiff of it here or there. It travels like a circuit preacher, making its rounds, eventually troubling us all.
Have you ever been to a funeral with only three or four people in attendance? I have. And I was merely an acquaintance there. Few things will sober a person up faster than realizing that can or will be them one day…. It’s the fastest priority-sorter I know of.
Maybe you’re holding out for AI and the evolution of mankind - the fountain of youth. Well, that’s a topic for another day. For now, all I can say is this earth suit has an expiration date for every single one of us, and King Solomon (the writer of Ecclesiastes) tells us we should take that to heart —
Don’t bury your head in the sand; don’t live like YOLO is a license to be careless with such a gift; and if you end up alone, end up alone for the better reasons, not the stingy and ugly ones.
Beloved, the B-side of scripture is worth reading. It’s not always feel-good and happy, but it will look you square in the face like an adult and speak the truth.
Until next time.