Ecclesiastes Chapter Three, Celebration & Mourning

 Ecclesiastes 3:4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

We had discussed earlier in this book how the preacher eschewed the house of mirth and opted instead for the house of mourning. Why? Because grief and tragedy brought sobriety of mind to understand the nature of life. Life isn’t about frivolity and joviality. The human penchant, or perhaps I should say the western penchant, for seeking entertainment above all things has thrown human perception out of balance.

Everything is funny. Everything must be belittled and denigrated and made a mockery of. Humor itself has fallen into disrepute, being typically made vulgar in every sense of the word. Adult humor is synonymous with mocking or making light of sex, marriage, religion, or anything in life that was meant to possess gravity and taken seriously. Yet the preacher informs his readership that there is a time to laugh; but that laughter should not be an all consuming affair that shuts out the sobering and life reflecting value that weeping brings. Sorrow helps to bring our thoughts into alignment with reality, whereas humor elevates the mind out of what is real into parody. Humor is escapism as much as religion is claimed to be. I do subscribe to the notion that everyone needs a good laugh now and again. But life is about more than laughing, especially about subjects that really ought to be taboo when it comes to poking fun at them, which seems to be the very subjects comedy and comedians go after with a strange exclusivity.

Escapism can be good. People had told myths, fables and legends for thousands of years to entertain the audience. A gripping novel or movie can be not only very averting but highly impactful, and if it can also make us laugh a little, so much the better. But there is a distinct aversion to the idea of sorrow. I understand that sorrow is unpleasant to put it lightly, but sorrow is sometimes the norm for too many people in our world. Grief from life circumstances abound, death and injury surround us. People lose their homes, lose their jobs, lose their innocence, and in a culture obsessed with laughter it might make it difficult to commiserate with such people. Their perspective is always sober, always grave, always dark. Perhaps this is one reason why the preacher commended the house of mourning to visit rather than the house of mirth; he understood that by nature we will seek humor over sorrow and wants to caution us that mirth is frivolous and only momentarily masks reality, while grief helps us come to terms with the finiteness of life. It will make us sympathetic with those suffering. The Apostle Paul wrote, stating, “Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep,” Romans 12:15.

Yes, the preacher certainly concedes that while there is a time to weep and mourn, there is also a time to laugh and dance. The first part contends with the process of grief and enduring loss, while the next deals with man’s response to absurdity and the outward expression of celebration. Of course the dancing the preacher refers to here hardly corresponds to what modernity constitutes as dancing, which can often look more erotic than celebratory. The difference being is that the preacher was a man in a theocracy governed by a holy God, and when the people of Israel celebrated, He was at its heart. Now man celebrates himself and expresses his desires through music. Israel’s desire was nearness to God and to worship in the beauty of holiness, Psalm 29:2, 2 Chronicles 20:21.

So while the preacher eschews the notion of venturing into the house of mirth, he acknowledges the reality that there is a time given under heaven, a season for laughter and dancing. The Apostle Paul wrote, “I know and am convinced by the Lord Jesus that there is nothing unclean of itself,” Romans 14:14. Elsewhere the apostle writes, “All things are lawful for me, but not all things are helpful; all things are lawful for me, but not all things edify,” 1 Corinthians 10:23. Dancing can be used for fitness or catharsis or celebration, but the conscientious Christian must be aware that if dancing slips into the licentiousness, we are as God’s saints to “abstain from every form of evil,” (1 Thessalonians 5:22) or, “stay away from every kind of evil,” HCSB. Just as the saints may drink alcohol but are commanded not to be drunk with wine, we may dance to celebrate, but not to sexually entice.