We get the point! - Ecclesiastes 6-7
Read: Ecclesiastes 6-7
Listen: A Song – “Matter” by for KING & COUNTRY
Listen: A Song - “Vapor” by The Liturgists
Listen: A Meditation – “Vapor Meditation” by The Liturgists
One question that my counselor often circles back around to is – what is something you are looking forward to?
Sometimes I can whip out my calendar that I have prepared just for that purpose (seriously, I have done this) and can point out a few things – a vacation maybe or a movie I really want to see in theaters perhaps. Other times I stare at my counselor and struggle to come up with anything. During some moments, I scrape the bottom of the barrel to come up with something like the hot tea from the coffee shop I plan to pick up or the hot shower I use to destress after a long day. These are little things, luxurious even for many people, but still little, typically meaningless, things.
These past few years my calendar has seen many events like engagement parties, bridal showers, weddings, baby showers, etc. Big moments, life-changing moments, moments I am more than happy to share with my loved ones. But then I go home to sit and stare at nothing and think, “Will it ever be my turn to have my family celebrate with me? What I am doing wrong that I’m not experiencing these things, and it’s nowhere near happening in my life? Am I even accomplishing anything worthwhile with my life?” The negative thoughts spiral on from there.
It's all too easy to get caught up in the negativity that spawns discontentment. I tend to start questioning my worth and God’s timing while pinpointing every little flaw I can possibly find in myself and my life. I tell myself in my lowest moments that I am simply not worth it, while in my harsher moments. I tell myself to suck it up and deal with it since these dreams will likely not occur for me. That pessimism really likes to hang on. However, in my kinder, more gracious moments, I remind myself that God knows what He’s doing with my life, and He knew what He was doing when He created me, and I can trust Him to hold me even when the world does not make sense.
As we journey into the middle of Ecclesiastes, I find myself struggling with chapters 6-7. We are deep into the Preacher’s thoughts on life and his endless repetition that everything is meaningless and futile. Seriously, how many times can a person say that something is futile? I don’t even want to count that one up. I circle the word every time I come across it while reading the book – I have lots of circles. So, I think we can safely say, WE GET THE POINT! Everything is meaningless. The Preacher tells us his main theme in Ecclesiastes 1:1, so we really have no excuse for not remembering, “Absolute futility. Everything is futile.”
I circle back around to all the things I feel that I am missing out on, all the things that, by missing out on them, make me less. I fear I am somehow messing things up just by being who I am. And I am reminded, somewhat harshly, it’s all meaningless anyway. Say what? Getting married, moving into a new home, raising a child – how can that be meaningless? Yet that is the message that we seem to be getting. Nothing matters because we all die eventually anyways, and while alive, we work so hard to have the good life that we don’t actually enjoy the life we’re living. We ignore the good God has already given us; we are never satisfied and thus keep striving after the wind.
If I let pessimism take the lead, I would throw up my hands, say something nasty, and self-soothe with Netflix and cookies. But I can’t do that because I have responded in just such a way and always to my detriment.
Ecclesiastes takes a rather dim view of life and the world we live in, and the Preacher effectively uses his endless repetition of futility to drive the point home – we cannot make meaning out of our lives and we will not find meaning in this broken world. So, where does that leave us?
We dream of something “better” and long to be thought worthy and significant. We try to prove true the adage, “The grass is always greener on the other side.” Yet we fail. Our dreams are not all they appear on the surface, or we keep striving, always thinking that by doing just one more thing then finally, we can be found indispensable.
When I finally choose to remember God, the narrative starts to change. You see, in Genesis 1, we are told that God gives purpose to humanity, “Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it.” Psalm 139 reminds us that God wove us together, knows us better than we know ourselves, and stays by our sides all our lives. And Romans 5 tells us that Christ died for us while we were still sinners, a problem we could never overcome on our own.
When I put the message of Ecclesiastes into the context of the metanarrative of Scripture, a different story begins to unfold. Yes, we are sinful humans living in a very broken world. Everything we seek and strive for in this world is ultimately meaningless. Our desires, accomplishments, failures – all of it truly is meaningless. Nothing we do will add even one more second to the life God has designed for us. Nothing we do can even renew a relationship with God because we can never be perfect or holy enough on our own. The best part of this truly awful news is that God knows.
God knows we cannot save ourselves, and God knows we’ll try (and fail). Thus, in Ecclesiastes 6-7, we find our next piece of the puzzle. Yes, life is meaningless – all of our dreams and achievements will not alter this fact. However, the utter futility we find in Ecclesiastes drives us forward in our search for meaning and purpose until we finally align ourselves with Christ. The story is not over yet, not in Ecclesiastes nor in our lives.
