It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting.
On the benefits to be derived from the house of mourning
It is evident that the wise man does not prefer sorrow, upon its own account, to mirth; or represent sadness as a state more eligible than joy. He considers it in the light of discipline only. He views it with reference to an end. The true scope of his doctrine in this passage is, that there is a certain temper and state of heart, which is of far greater consequence to real happiness, than the habitual indulgence of giddy and thoughtless mirth; that for the attainment and cultivation of this temper, frequent returns of grave reflection are necessary; that, upon this account, it is profitable to give admission to those views of human distress which tend to awaken such reflection in the mind; and that thus, from the vicissitudes of sorrow, which we either experience in our own lot, or sympathize with in the lot of others, much wisdom and improvement may be derived. I begin by observing, that the temper recommended in the text suits the present constitution of things in this world. Had man been destined for a course of undisturbed enjoyment, perpetual gaiety would then have corresponded to his state; and pensive thought have been an unnatural intrusion. But in a state where all is chequered and mixed, where there is no prosperity without a reverse, and no joy without its attending griefs, where from the house of feasting all must, at one time or other, pass into the house of mourning, it would be equally unnatural if no admission were given to grave reflection. It is proper also to observe, that as the sadness of the countenance has, in our present situation, a proper and natural place; so it is requisite to the true enjoyment of pleasure. It is only the interposal of serious and thoughtful hours that can give any lively sensations to the returns of joy. Having premised these observations, I proceed to point out the direct effects of a proper attention to the distresses of life upon our moral and religious character.
1. The house of mourning is calculated to give a proper check to our natural thoughtlessness and levity. When some affecting incident presents a strong discovery of the deceitfulness of all worldly joy, and rouses our sensibility to human woe; when we behold those with whom we had lately mingled in the house of feasting, sunk by some of the sudden vicissitudes of life into the vale of misery; or when, in sad silence, we stand by the friend whom we had loved as our own soul, stretched on the bed of death; then is the season when the world begins to appear in a new light; when the heart opens to virtuous sentiments, and is led into that train of reflection which ought to direct life. He who before knew not what it was to commune with his heart on any serious subject, now puts the question to himself, For what purpose he was sent forth into this mortal, transitory state: what his fate is likely to be when it concludes; and what judgment he ought to form of those pleasures which amuse for a little, but which, he now sees, cannot save the heart from anguish in the evil day?
2. Impressions of this nature not only produce moral seriousness, but awaken sentiments of piety, and bring men into the sanctuary of religion. Formerly we were taught, but now we see, we feel, how much we stand in need of an Almighty Protector, amidst the changes of this vain world. Our soul cleaves to Him who despises not, nor abhors the affliction of the afflicted. Prayer flows forth of its own accord from the relenting heart, that He may be our God, and the God of our friends in distress; that He may never forsake us while we are sojourning in this land of pilgrimage; may strengthen us under its calamities. The discoveries of His mercy, which He has made in the Gospel of Christ, are viewed with joy, as so many rays of light sent down from above to dispel, in some degree, the surrounding gloom. A Mediator and Intercessor with the Sovereign of the universe, appear comfortable names; and the resurrection of the just becomes the powerful cordial of grief.
3. Such serious sentiments produce the happiest effect upon our disposition towards our fellow-creatures, as well as towards God. It is a common and just observation, that they who have lived always in affluence and ease, strangers to the miseries of life, are liable to contract hardness of heart with respect to all the concerns of others. By the experience of distress, this arrogant insensibility of temper is most effectually corrected; as the remembrance of our own sufferings naturally prompts us to feel for others when they suffer. But if Providence has been so kind as not to subject us to much of this discipline in our own lot, let us draw improvement from the harder lot of others. Let us sometimes step aside from the smooth and flowery paths in which we are permitted be walk, in order to view the toilsome march of our fellows through the thorny desert. By voluntarily going into the house of mourning; by yielding to the sentiments which it excites, and mingling our tears with those of the afflicted, we shall acquire that humane sensibility which is one of the highest ornaments of the nature of man.
4. The disposition recommended in the text, not only improves us in piety and humanity, but likewise assists us in self-government, and the due moderation of our desires. The house of mourning is the school of temperance and sobriety. Thou who wouldst act like a wise man, and build thy house on the rock, and not on the sand, contemplate human life not only in the sunshine, but in the shade. Frequent the house of mourning, as well as the house of mirth. Study the nature of that state in which thou art placed; and balance its joys with its sorrows. Thou seest that the cup which is held forth to the whole human race, is mixed. Of its bitter ingredients, expect that thou art to drink thy portion. Thou seest the storm hovering everywhere in the clouds around thee. Be not surprised if on thy head it shall break. Lower, therefore, thy sails. Dismiss thy florid hopes; and come forth prepared either to act or to suffer, according as Heaven shall decree. Thus shalt thou be excited to take the properest measures for defence, by endeavouring to secure an interest in His favour, who, in the time of trouble, can hide thee in His pavilion. Thy mind shall adjust itself to follow the order of His providence. Thou shalt be enabled, with equanimity and steadiness, to hold thy course through life.
5. By accustoming ourselves to such serious views of life, our excessive fondness for life itself will be moderated, and our minds gradually formed to wish and to long for a better world. If we know that our continuance here is to be short, and that we are intended by our Maker for a more lasting state, and for employments of a nature altogether different from those which now occupy the busy, or amuse the vain, we must surely be convinced that it is of the highest consequence to prepare ourselves for so important a change. This view of our duty is frequently held up to us in the sacred writings; and hence religion becomes, though not a morose, yet a grave and solemn principle, calling off the attention of men from light pursuits to those which are of eternal moment. (H. Blair, D. D.)
The house of mourning
Jesus, our Almighty Saviour, authoritative Teacher and perfect Exemplar, attended houses of feasting sometimes, but ever seemed more ready to go to, and more at home in, houses of mourning. His example suggests that while it may be good to visit the former, it is better to visit the latter.
I. It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to the house of feasting, because we can get more good there. We may get less good for the body, but we shall get more good for the soul. We may get less to minister to our present pleasure, but we shall get more that will minister to our future well-being. It is a schoolroom in which great moral and spiritual lessons are very lucidly and very impressively taught.
1. There we may thoroughly learn the terrible evil of sin.
2. There we best learn the vanity of the creature.
3. There we may best learn the value of time.
4. There we may learn the present blessedness of true personal religion.
II. It is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting, because we can do more good there. Every man should be as much concerned about doing good as about getting good. In fact, doing good is one of the most certain ways of getting good. But, even apart from that, the man who has received great good from God should endeavour to dispense good to his fellow-men, and we can generally do more good in the house of mourning than we can in the house of feasting. For in the latter men are so given over to the business of pampering their bodies that they are usually little disposed to heed anything you may venture to say about the salvation of their souls. But in the house of mourning, where poverty, sickness or death has been busy, if you have shown an unmistakable interest in the family’s temporal welfare, you will usually find them disposed to listen to what you may have to say about their spiritual and eternal welfare. Thus shall you scatter much sorrow and let in much peace and comfort. Thus shall you benefit your fellow-creatures, enrich your own souls, and glorify that Christ who died for your salvation. (John Morgan.)
On the dangers of pleasure
Sensual pleasures are among the most dangerous enemies of virtue. But, ardent and prone to excess, they require to be subjected to a prudent and holy vigilance, and to be indulged with caution and circumspection.
I. Much indulgence in pleasure tends to weaken that watchfulness and guard, which a wise and good man will find it necessary always to maintain over himself. Pleasure seldom admits wisdom of her party. The wand of truth which she carries, would destroy all those unreal images and airy visions with which the deluded voluptuary is surrounded. There the heart is thrown loose from restraint, and laid open to the lively and warm impression of every seducing idea. Men abandon themselves without suspicion to the sweet neglect, and through the unguarded avenues enter a multitude of enemies, who were only lying in wait for this decisive moment.
II. Pleasure not only impairs the guard which a wise man should constantly maintain over his heart, but often lays it open to too strong temptations. Of this David affords us an instructive and affecting example. How much more certainly will pleasure corrupt those, who enter its purlieus without circumspection, and expose themselves unguarded to all the dangerous force of its temptations in the house of feasting! Here example, and sympathy, all the arts of seduction, all the allurements of ingenuity, all the decorations that wit can give to vice, unite their influence to betray the heart.
III. Scenes of pleasure and indulgence tend to impair the sentiments of piety towards God. A continual succession of pleasures is apt to efface from the mind that sentiment of dependence upon the Creator, so becoming the state of man. The mind, humbled by suffering, enjoys the smallest mercy with gratitude; while the greatest, by proud prosperity, is first abused and then forgotten.
IV. High and constant pleasures are unfriendly to the exercise of the benevolent affections. They tend to contract and harden the heart. The importunities of want, the sighs of wretchedness, are unwelcome intruders on the joyous festival. Who are disposed to seek out the retreats of sorrow and distress, and to administer there those consolations which the afflicted require? Are they not those who have themselves been educated in the school of misfortune, and who have been taught, by their own feelings, the claims of suffering humanity? Are they not those who often turn aside from the prosperous course, which Providence permits them to bold through life, to visit the receptacles of human wretchedness, and to carry comfort into the habitations of penury and disease? Who learn there to feel what is due to human nature? Pleasure is selfish. Attracting everything into its own centre, it loosens the bonds of society. Hence it is that luxury hastens the ruin of nations in proportion as it makes the love of pleasure the reigning character of their manners.
V. Pleasures tend to enfeeble the principle of self-government. Self-denial is necessary to self-command. In the midst of moderate enjoyments and corrected appetites, the sentiments of duty have opportunity firmly to root themselves, and to acquire ascendancy among the other principles of the heart, unrestrained indulgence corrupts them. And the passions, growing inflamed and ungovernable, hurry away their weak captives over all the fences of prudence as well as of piety. Moderation and self-denial are necessary to restore the tone of nature, and to create the highest relish even of the pleasures of sense.
VI. Pleasure is unfavourable to those serious reflections upon our mortal condition, and the instability of all human things, so useful to prepare the soul for her immortal destination. It is only when we recollect that we are united to this world by a momentary tie, and to the next by eternal relations, that we shall despise, as reasonable beings ought to do, the fantastic occupations of the dissipated and the idle, and cultivate the solid and immortal hopes of piety. These are lessons not taught in the house of seating. (S. S. Smith, D. D.)