TEXT: Ecclesiastes 7:3

SUBJECT: Laughter and Sorrow

Pastors have many things to do. Some are enjoyable and some are not. Of the pleasant things we do, none makes me happier than baptizing. Reading books on baptism, you often come across words like sacred and solemn. This is good because baptism is both. But it’s not only sacred or solemn: it’s also fun--plain, innocent, God honoring fun! Because we had a baptism planned for today, I thought we’d be laughing our heads off.

But we’re not. The young man I was set to baptize isn’t here. On Friday night, a tumor was found on his brain and now he lies in a hospital bed, waiting for surgery. Our laughter has been turned to sorrow.

Sorrow is wasted on some people. When they hear bad news, they put on a sad face for a few minutes and then go on their merry way. Or they use the bad news to justify their unbelief and confirm their grudge against God. The Bible has a word for these people: they’re fools. When given the choice of going to a hospital or going to a party, they take the party every time! And why not? Parties don’t make you think.

But hospitals do.

The wise want to think; they want to know the world as it really is. Life under the sun is the Preacher’s way of describing the Real World—a world created good, but fallen into sin, and under the Lordship of a God whose "judgments are unsearchable and ways past finding out".

You won’t find this wisdom at parties! So look for it in the darker places of the world. Find it in voices choked with grief and in eyes that are all cried out. In these places "the heart is made better".

What wisdom can be found in the house of mourning? Much can be said here, but I won’t be long today. Five things occurred to me, I’ll touch on them lightly and let you develop them on your own time.

First we have the horror of sin. Our brother is not in the hospital for some particular wrong he did, but because sin is in the world--and with it has come every sorrow, pain, disease, fear, and death.

I will not be lurid, but think of the awful things you’ve seen in life: the broken bodies, the broken minds, the broken hearts, the broken families, the broken churches, the broken neighborhoods. Every one of them was broken by one thing: sin!

If sin brings all misery into the world, it must be far worse than we think it is. Not just sin in general, but your sin and mine. And not just big sins like murder and rape, but the little ones too—things like a bit of gossip now and then. What unleashed the power of death? It was not genocide or nuclear blackmail; it was one bite of the forbidden fruit!

"Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindles!"

The horrors of sickness and death recall the horror of horrors: sin. If you’re not offended and grieved by your sins, go to the hospital this afternoon or take a stroll across the cemetery. This is what sin does because of what sin is!

Sickness and death are for old people! We all know this is not true, but the knowledge we have in our heads has a way of staying there: in our heads only. We know it but we don’t believe it and it has no effect on how we live or the choices we make.

But the sickness of a young man startles us out of our complacency and makes us remember how uncertain life can be. The Bible plainly teaches that everyone is destined to sickness and death, but it gives no clue as to when these things will occur. Only that they will. Sooner or later. And more often sooner than we think.

If life is uncertain, you cannot waste the life you now have. For it may be all the life you have. The man in the Bible who said he had goods stored up for many years—and plenty of time to think about his mortality—goes by what name? The Fool!

I wish he were the last one. But he wasn’t. Millions of his kind are with us this day. And some of them are sitting in this building! Don’t be one of them! Remember the Word of God:

You know this in your head. Get it into your heart. If I cannot persuade you, let the Bible do it. If it cannot, let the hospital turn the trick!

Sickness has a way of putting things into perspective. Several years ago, my wife and I had a big fight. She went out to do something and was gone for three or four hours. During that time the phone rang and my mother told me that Dad had had a heart attack! Thankfully, he hadn’t had one, it was his gall bladder, but I didn’t know that at the time.

What I did know, however, is the petty, silly little thing we argued over was not worth arguing over! Dad was in the hospital and that made me see how stupid and selfish and blind I was to the big picture.

You cannot do everything. Some things have to be chosen over other things. Because your health is uncertain and your life may be shorter than you think it will be, you’ve got to choose—not just the legitimate things—but the best things!

Would tracking mud into the house be a capital offense if your son was in the ICU? Would watching the game be your first priority if you knew your wife would die tonight?

Go home today and take inventory of your life: what things matter most to you? The sinful things you ought to repent of right now, of course. But what about the other things—things that are neither commanded nor forbidden by God? You’re at liberty to do them or not to do them. But you’re not at liberty to put them at the top of your list. God has put other things there—and you need to remember what they are and put them where they belong.

Now I have a word to parents in particular. Do you talk to your kids as though they are subject to death? If you knew your son and daughter could die today, would you say what you did to them? Or would you say it in the same tone of voice?

Of things on earth, nothing is more precious than our children! Yet we ignore them, we abuse them, we look down on them as though they cannot die. But they can.

If you remembered that, you’d be a better father or mother.

Thus far, I’ve tried to avoid personal comments about Nathan. But now I want to make some. He told me he could die and that he could do it without fear because he has Christ. He doesn’t think so or hope so or believe so, he knows he has Christ.

Of course Nathan has other interests! Of course he’s interested in girls and friends and school and music and hobbies and so on, but these things don’t provide the comfort he needs in these scary times. But Christ does!

Jesus Christ does not promise to take our fears and pains away, but He promises to be with us in them all. He is with our young friend. And because He is, all is well.

Is Christ everything to you? If He is now, He will be when it’s your turn to go to the hospital. How precious He will be then! Because how precious He is now!

Thus, the moral to my story is simple: The house of mourning is good for us because it reminds us of what matters most—and that is Christ!

God bless our young friend! God bless you everyone! For Christ’s sake. Amen.