Enjoying Life in Light of Death

Introduction:

I’m not supposed to be at this funeral. You’re not supposed to be at this funeral. Brad was certainly not supposed to be at this funeral. He was supposed to have a quick surgery, spend one night in the hospital, and then go home to recover.

But then there were complications— then more complications— then an infection— and then, death.

Which is why we are here…

You might be surprised to learn that the Bible speaks often—and honestly—about death, even though we tend to shy away from those passages. But days like today don’t give us that option. They force us to pause and reflect on the reality we’d rather avoid.

Listen to Salomon, a wise, ancient Hebrew writer who under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit wrote the following in the book of Ecclesiastes 9:1–10 “1 But all this I laid to heart, examining it all, how the righteous and the wise and their deeds are in the hand of God. Whether it is love or hate, man does not know; both are before him. 2 It is the same for all, since the same event happens to the righteous and the wicked, to the good and the evil, to the clean and the unclean, to him who sacrifices and him who does not sacrifice. As the good one is, so is the sinner, and he who swears is as he who shuns an oath. 3 This is an evil in all that is done under the sun, that the same event happens to all. Also, the hearts of the children of man are full of evil, and madness is in their hearts while they live, and after that they go to the dead. 4 But he who is joined with all the living has hope, for a living dog is better than a dead lion. 5 For the living know that they will die, but the dead know nothing, and they have no more reward, for the memory of them is forgotten. 6 Their love and their hate and their envy have already perished, and forever they have no more share in all that is done under the sun. 7 Go, eat your bread with joy, and drink your wine with a merry heart, for God has already approved what you do. 8 Let your garments be always white. Let not oil be lacking on your head. 9 Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life that he has given you under the sun, because that is your portion in life and in your toil at which you toil under the sun. 10 Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might, for there is no work or thought or knowledge or wisdom in Sheol, to which you are going.”

This passage offers us four realities about death:

1. Death was not part of God’s original design

Salomon speaks of death in v.3 as an evil. How did this evil entered our world?

You see, death was not part of God’s original design. Genesis 1-2 describes life on earth as whole: healthy relationships among humans and God and among each other. There is no sin and no death.

But then sin and death entered the world in Genesis 3 due to humanity’s rebellion against God.

Humans rebelled against God.

Creation was cursed. God tells Adam in Genesis 3:17-19, “Cursed is the ground because of you - pain and death entered the world.

The apostle Paul puts it like this in Romans 5:12, “Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin…

2. God has our lives in his hands (v.1)

Ecclesiastes 9:1 says, “But all this I laid to heart, examining it all, how the righteous and the wise and their deeds are in the hand of God. Whether it is love or hate, man does not know; both are before him.”

Theologians refer to this reality as the sovereignty of God. A sovereign is a king and Scripture often refers to God as the one who rules over all including life and death.

God decides when I’m born and he decides when I die. You will not die one minute before your time.

3. We all have an appointment with death (v.2)

Ecclesiastes 9:2, It is the same for all, since the same event happens to the righteous and the wicked.

Translation: we are all going to die someday. Death is the great equalizer no matter who you are or what you have done. We will face death regardless of your race, gender, financial status, religious beliefs, age, etc.

It is the same for all, since the same event happens to everyone.

Hebrews 9:27, And just as it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment,

We only have one life to live - there are no do overs.

4. There is reason to hope!

Ecclesiastes 9:4–6 (NLT)

4There is hope only for the living. As they say, “It’s better to be a live dog than a dead lion!”

5The living at least know they will die, but the dead know nothing. They have no further reward, nor are they remembered.

6Whatever they did in their lifetime—loving, hating, envying—is all long gone. They no longer play a part in anything here on earth.

The point is clear: if we are alive, we have hope.

David Gibson put it this way,

the point is simple: to be alive is to have the day of opportunity in our hands in a way that we do not have when we’re dead.

Main Idea: Death reminds us that life is short, but in God’s hands, it can be lived with joy, purpose, and hope.

How to enjoy temporary life on earth in light of eternity.

Repent and believe the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Enjoy the little things in life today

Ecclesiastes 9:7 says, “Go, eat your bread with joy, and drink your wine with a merry heart, for God has already approved what you do.”

Enjoy life with the people you love

Ecclesiastes 9:9, “Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life that he has given you under the sun.

Invest in relationships. Nobody on their deathbed has ever said, “I wish I had spent more time at the office’.

David Gibson, Living Life Backward: How Ecclesiastes Teaches Us to Live in Light of the End

This is just the way a wise, old man speaks to a younger man. “Ah,” he says, “if I knew then what I know now, I’d do things differently. I’d slow down. I’d enjoy my kids. Only yesterday they were knee-high, and now they’re gone. I’d take time to listen more than I speak.”

You can get a lot of things back or replace them: money, house, car or a job. But you cannot get time back. Those days and hours are gone. This is why you cannot go wrong with investing in people.

No wonder Moses prayed to God, “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12)

Only One Life by C.T. Studd

Only one life, yes only one, Now let me say, “Thy will be done”; And when at last I’ll hear the call, I know I’ll say ’twas worth it all”; Only one life,’ twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Main Idea: Death reminds us that life is short, but in God’s hands, it can be lived with joy, purpose, and hope.

A letter from Rick Foss to his dad.

Good morning, everyone. First off, I want to thank each and every one of you for being here today. It means so much to our family to look around this room and see so many faces who loved and respected my dad — Brad Foss. Your presence here is a reflection of the kind of man he was — someone who showed up for people, someone who made a lasting impact, someone who mattered. When I think about how to describe my dad, it’s hard to know where to start, because he was so many things to so many people. But if I had to choose just a few words, I’d say this: he was someone who loved to make people happy. He loved to make people laugh — often with a joke that came out of nowhere, maybe even at his own expense, and usually followed by his signature grin. He was the ultimate lead-by-example kind of guy. He didn’t need a podium or a spotlight. He lived his values every day — as a husband, a father, a grandfather, a co-worker, and a friend. He never preached anything he didn’t live himself. He showed us what it meant to be consistent, to be respectful, to take care of what you’ve been given, and to always treat people with kindness. He was a kind of quiet rock in our lives. He had this calm, steady presence — the kind that made you feel safe, the kind that reminded you to do better without ever saying a word. And while he wasn’t the type to raise his voice or make demands, I can say from experience that you definitely didn’t want to disappoint him. Even as an adult, even as I got older and started my own life, I always had this voice in the back of my mind — my dad’s voice — reminding me to stay grounded, to do the right thing, to think twice. One of my favorite memories of my dad was one morning out fishing on Lake Minnewaska. Now, anyone who knew my dad knows how particular he was about his things. That morning we were headed out fishing, and there was just one little rain cloud in the sky — nothing serious. We launched the boat, started heading across the lake, and he turned to me and said — with complete seriousness —“If it starts raining hard, I want you to head back to shore. I don’t want my boat to get wet.” Now, I know how that sounds. And you might think it was a joke.But no — he meant it. 100% serious.And I remember laughing so hard and asking him “do you realize what you just said” and telling him at the time — this story will be told at your funeral! And here we are. That story always makes me laugh, but it also says a lot about him. He took pride in what he owned. He took care of things. He valued the little things. It wasn’t about being flashy — it was about respect. Respect for the things he worked so hard for. Respect for the people around him. Respect for life in general. Some of the best times we ever had together were spent outdoors — hunting deer and pheasants, fishing, cruising around in the truck. Just the two of us, talking about life. I’d pick his brain and try to soak up as much of his wisdom as I could. And even if he didn’t always give me direct answers, he’d guide me to think differently, to slow down, to look at things from a better perspective. I used to call my dad all the time — often for no reason at all, sometimes multiple times a day, especially in these last few years. I’d even joke and ask him if I was annoying him yet, and even if I was he would never admit it. But the truth is, I started to cherish those moments more and more. So often I’d call just to say hi, with nothing in particular to talk about — just because I could. Because I knew that one day, I wouldn’t be able to. And I’d tell him that all the time.  And man, did he love to work. At 74 years old, he was still working at Superior, and it wasn’t because he liked to get up early.  I’d ask him — “Dad, why don’t you retire? You’ve earned it.” And every single time, he’d say,“Because I love the people I work with.” He wasn’t working for just the paycheck. He was working because it gave him purpose. Because it gave him connection. Because he loved being part of something bigger than himself. That was who he was. He showed up for people. He gave people his time, his effort, his presence — all without expecting anything in return. There was something so solid and unwavering about my dad. You always knew where he stood. You always knew he was going to do the right thing. And if you ever forgot that, he’d remind you — not with words, but by doing it himself. He had a saying that he lived by — “Attitude is huge.” It’s such a simple idea, but it meant everything to him. Your attitude was your responsibility. Your mindset was something you could control — even when life felt out of control. And you know what? He lived that out to the very end. Even in the hospital, even when he was in pain, even when things were uncertain — he kept his head up. I tried to remind him of his own advice: that attitude matters. And not once did he push back. He just kept showing up, one moment at a time, with grace, with patience, with strength. He was known for a few other things, too — like that black truck. I still don’t know how it was always so clean.Or the way he could deliver a joke with such perfect timing — even if it wasn’t that funny, somehow you still laughed.Or the smile he wore so naturally, like he had this little piece of joy inside him that just never ran out.And if you really knew him, you knew that his love language was acts of kindness. He didn’t always say it out loud, but he showed it — in the way he’d quietly tip a bag boy at the grocery store, or cover the bill for someone’s meal without saying a word. That’s just who he was — someone who led with generosity, and gave love through action. But more than anything, he was known for how he loved. The way he showed up as a father, as a grandfather, as a partner, and as a friend — that’s what defined him. That’s what made him unforgettable. And lastly, I want to take a moment to say thank you — to someone who was everything to him, and everything we could have hoped he’d find in life: Linda. You were never just a stepmom — that word doesn’t do justice to the role you played in all of our lives. You were a blessing. A constant, steady presence who was always there when we needed you, but never overpowering. You gave your love freely, quietly, and with incredible grace. Your relationship with Dad was something rare and beautiful. After 23 years of marriage, you still looked at each other like you had just fallen in love. You never stopped dating. You never stopped choosing each other first. The love and respect you shared was evident to anyone who saw you together — it was the kind of bond that made us all believe in lasting love. Thank you for taking care of my best friend. Thank you for the way you loved him — fully and faithfully. Thank you for standing beside him through every joy and every challenge. For being his partner in every sense of the word. You brought out the best in him, and we are so deeply thankful for the way you cared for him and for us. You were — and are — such an important part of this family, and we love you dearly. So today, as we say goodbye for now, I want to leave you with this: If you ever wondered what a good life looks like — you don’t need to look any further than my father.He lived with intention. He loved without limits. He laughed often. He worked hard. He showed up.He was kind. He was real. He was steady.And if each of us can take even a small part of how he lived and carry it forward — in how we treat others, in how we love our families, in how we live our days — then his legacy lives on. So here’s to Brad.To the man who kept his truck spotless.To the man who didn’t want his boat to get wet.To the man who gave his heart to all of us. We love you, Dad.We’ll miss you every day.But we’ll do our best to live the way you showed us how —with strength, with gratitude, and with kindness. Thank You Rick Foss