On Tuesday evenings, I'm leading a men's study of Ecclesiastes. Ecclesiastes (go to Proverbs and turn right; there you'll find it) was the first book of the Bible that got my attention as I came out of the wilderness of my youthful unbelief. It rang true to one like myself who had been swamped with the vain things the world had to offer. I remember my utter surprise at finding such simply stated and austere wisdom, even all these years later. As Eugene Peterson has so aptly stated, reading Ecclesiastes is not a feast, it's a bath.
We all live in a culture of consumerist glitz and fleshly glamour. Here the promises are lavish, seductive, and untrue. What is promised is rarely delivered. Thanks be to God for that, for the things that are promised are nothing but vain and empty illusions of meaning.
The main question of Ecclesiastes is: "How can I live a meaningful life?" The writer sets out on a quest to discover the answer. He looks in every conceivable direction. He keeps coming up empty, or as he says, chasing the wind. His conclusion? All is vanity. Love God and keep his commandments. That sounds simple enough, until you try to do it. We Christians have discovered the painful truth that we are incapable of truly loving God on our own . We love because he first loved us. In matters of love and of the heart, grace must come first. And we've also made the humbling discovery that we are incapable of keeping the commandments without divine help. Even with God's help, we all often stumble and fall and need forgiveness.
How comforting to realize that our spiritual poverty comes as no surprise to God. Jesus even goes so far as to say, "Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Blessed perhaps because we are finally ready to receive what only God can give and we can never earn: right standing before God's holy presence.
The season of Lent is fast approaching. It's a wonderful opportunity to bathe in the waters of God's gracious truth. I commend Ecclesiastes to you as cleansing water.
Suffering and sorrow seem to always throw us into the maw of a paradox. The things we would so much rather avoid yield, nevertheless, some amazing treasures if we will hold our hearts open to the mysteries of God's grace, the gifts of his kindness and love.
That is the theme of my book, Gold Mining in the Pit of Sorrow: a journey through child loss and grief. You can find it on Amazon.com. When life gets hard, may you learn to find God in the midst of your trials.
