The pop icon with the most remarkable lip-to-face ratio, Mick Jagger, encapsulated the sine qua non of Ecclesiastes with the characteristic pithiness of enduring poetry: “I can’t get no [obligatory guitar lead interlude] satisfaction.” And in one of the most elastically generous half-rhymes in the Presley corpus, “A little less conversation, a little more action / All this aggravation ain’t satisfaction in me.” I am half way through preaching Solomon’s pensive, apparently cynical magnum opus, and I’m resolute in my determination to not slit my wrists. Last night’s sermon was the mid-term review—chapter 6 of 12. Basically our emo author is waxing glumly about life, the universe, and everything and how nothing in this sunburned existence brings happiness or fulfillment.
The whole thing is reminiscent of my undergrad studies in existentialism. If you asked Ernest Hemingway why the chicken crosses the
road, he’d reply starkly, “To die. In the rain. Alone.” Then he’d turn a shotgun on himself. If you asked Jean-Paul Sartre, he’d offer, “The chicken is attempting to escape the company he finds himself in, and will try this ad nauseum until he resigns himself to the inevitable truism that hell is other chickens.” And then he’d outrun the specter of a giant lobster hallucination he spent most of his paranoid twilight years avoiding before offing himself too. It seems that suicide is de rigueur among existentialists, and you can see why. Who wants to live in a purposeless world? But Solomon’s incipient existentialism is the result of neither dithering senility nor morbid pessimism. He knows where joy can be located, and it’s not in this life.
Ecclesiastes unearths this insight: God (the Giver) lays a trail of breadcrumbs (his gifts) to lead us to the joy to be found only in him. We spend our lives frustrated that the breadcrumbs don’t fill us, while we miss the point; they are leading us to a banquet of satisfaction in God alone. I know this sounds very Piper-esque, “We are most satisfied in God when he is most glorified in us.” But Piper confessed to nabbing that gem from Jonathan Edwards who boosted it from the Apostle Paul who apparently picked it dexterously from Solomon’s pocket. It passed through Augustine’s hands at some point too, “Thou hast made us for Thyself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless til they find their rest in Thee.” Now every youth pastor does the bit about a God-shaped hole in our hearts, and we all act like this insight is passé. But think about it. It is only Christians who have access to this insight through faith. If you don’t believe in God, you have no banquet, just a trail of crumbs. Unbelievers imbibe their fill of saltwater but their thirst burns unabated.
Continue Reading…