Better than this… - Ecclesiastes 4-5
Read: Ecclesiastes 4-5
Listen: A Song - “Vapor” by The Liturgists
Listen: A Meditation – “Vapor Meditation” by The Liturgists
I still remember sitting in my partner teacher’s classroom when a parent came raging into the room, screaming her head off at me. As my heart started racing, I’m fairly certain my mouth fell open in shock as she reamed me for an offense that I actually did not commit. I tend to actively avoid conflict, and this incident was years before I had any measure of confidence even to attempt to stand up for myself. I caught myself thinking; I didn’t sign up for this…surely there is something better than this.
In that same school year, one of my students was removed from foster care, and his biological mom regained custody. While I fully appreciate the desire for reunification, this situation was hands down the worst solution for this child and his siblings. Within weeks, any progress his foster parents and I had seen that year was destroyed as his home life rapidly deteriorated; he was more out of control than ever. He only got worse the following year. The injustice of the situation burned my gut. There must be something better than this.
A few years after these incidents, I had another student of whom I was terrified. He had threatened to stab his pregnant first-grade teacher with scissors, so I was more than a little on edge around him. The same class had another student who had also experienced extreme abuse. He was the sweetest boy in the world, and I had the privilege of teaching both him and his older brother. He would quack like a duck and hide in his locker whenever his meds quit working for him, and it was never funny. Another child, another abuse story – I had to keep him in from recess because he did not know how to play with others, and he would quickly get overstimulated on the playground. His response was to choke anyone who tried to play with him. It broke my heart when I realized that the hug he eventually granted me every day was a sign of his trust. Surely there must be something better for these children.
There was the little girl I held for a full 20 minutes at the end of a school day because every time I let her go, she would attack another little girl. I called for help, but no one could come because of all the other problems at the same time. When we finally got her to the bus, I realized I had sweated through my shirt as it stuck to my back. I'm pretty sure I cried that day. Surely there must be something better than this.
Then there are the students that were lost at far too young of an age – ATV accidents, work accidents, new driver accidents, and illnesses. Even one was too many, and there have been more than that. Surely there must be something better than this.
Sit down with me sometime, and I could tell you a hundred more stories in this same vein. It is perhaps not all that surprising that I have fought depression for the past decade. I do not have to look far to know the truth of the Preacher’s words:
Again, I observed all the acts of oppression being done under the sun. Look at the tears of those who are oppressed; they have no one to comfort them. Power is with those who oppress them; they have no one to comfort them. So I commended the dead, who have already died, more than the living, who are still alive. But better than either of them is the one who has not yet existed, who has not seen the evil activity that is done under the sun. (Ecc. 4:1-3)
Ecclesiastes is not an easy book to read; the author does not pull his punches when addressing the problems in our reality. He faces the world head-on and wrestles with the futility and injustice he sees. The Preacher is at the point in chapter 4 where he says the dead are better than the living because the dead no longer have to experience oppression in the world. Better than that are those who have not even been born because they have never had to experience the brokenness in our world. I mean, I get it, and that reality gets harder to stand all the time.
In chapters 4-5, the Preacher outlines the tragedy of oppression in the world. In chapter 5, he even says not to be surprised at the oppression of others and the perversion of justice and righteousness. It is reality. The poor, the lonely, the marginalized, the vulnerable experience the abuse and cruelty of those corrupted by power, of systems that are as broken as the individuals who think they are in power. Turn on the news or read a newspaper, and you’ll find ample evidence of daily oppression.
At this point, you’re likely asking yourself why you decided to read this post today. Sorry, kind of. We need to realize though, that like every other chapter in Ecclesiastes that we have delved into over these past weeks, this isn’t the end of the story. There is yet more to the puzzle than this strange and, at times, depressing book.
The author wraps up his commentary on oppression with these thoughts:
Here is what I have seen to be good: It is appropriate to eat, drink, and experience good in all the labor one does under the sun during the few days of his life God has given him, because that is his reward…This is a gift of God, for he does not often consider the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with the joy of his heart. (Ecc. 5:18-20)
To be honest, I felt like this was a poor response in light of the oppression discussed in most of the previous verses. It feels like a band-aid rather than a cure. But I was missing the pieces that make this answer more than a band-aid.
Not just anyone is going to receive the gifts of God. Those who have not committed themselves to God, willfully deny Him, or ignorantly assume their authority – the individuals who have not humbled themselves before God, will not have full access to God. Harsh? Actually, no, God is the Sovereign Creator, the King of kings, and the Lord of lords, the Alpha and the Omega, the Holy One, the Self-Existent and Eternal One. Why should just anyone have access to Him? His pure holiness and righteousness are enough to knock us flat on our faces if we know what’s good for us. We are, after all, far from being perfectly holy or righteous.
So, what do we do? How do we get access to God? How do we receive these gifts that He is more than pleased to offer us? How do we find meaning in a world that seems increasingly futile? God, in his endless mercy, does not leave us floundering. “He made the one who did not know sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). In the brokenness of the world, God offered His own perfect Son to be broken for us. And when we give our loyalty to Jesus, we are justified by faith and reconciled with God. “We…obtain access through [Jesus] by faith into this grace in which we stand…” (Rom. 5:2). Then the trials of life we will inevitably face will produce hope, and “[t]his hope will not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us” (Rom 5:5). We have access to God through Jesus Christ and the gift of the Holy Spirit dwelling in us.
Now, and only now, do the Preacher’s words at the end of Ecclesiastes 5 start to feel like more than a band-aid. They start to feel like hope. Eat, drink, and enjoy the work you’re given. God has given us an inexpressible joy that will bring light to our days and ease the burden accompanying us in this life. Does this mean that we will no longer face oppression or injustice? Not at all. We still live in a fallen world filled with broken people. There are consequences for this evil. But we have Jesus, and He is better than anything in this world.
