In
vain!” says the Preacher. In vain! All is that is done is done in vain. What
does man gain from all his labor in which he labors under the
sun? One generation goes, and another generation comes; but the
earth remains forever. The sun also rises, and the sun goes down,
and hurries to its place where it rises. The wind goes toward the
south, and turns around to the north. It turns around continually as it goes,
and the wind returns again to its courses. All the rivers run into
the sea, yet the sea is not full. To the place where the rivers flow, there
they flow again. All things are full of weariness beyond uttering. The eye
is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. That which
has been is that which shall be; and that which has been done is that which
shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun. Is there a thing
of which it may be said, “Behold, this is new?” It has been long ago, in
the ages which were before us. There is no memory of the former; neither
shall there be any memory of the latter that are to come, among those that
shall come after.
I,
the Preacher, was king over Israel in Jerusalem. I applied my heart
to seek and to search out by wisdom concerning all that is done under the sky.
It is a heavy burden that God has given to the sons of men to be afflicted
with. I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and
behold, all is done in vain and a chasing after wind. That which is
crooked can’t be made straight; and that which is lacking can’t be
counted. I said to myself, “Behold, I have obtained for myself great
wisdom above all who were before me in Jerusalem. Yes, my heart has had great
experience of wisdom and knowledge.” I applied my heart to know
wisdom, and to know madness and folly. I perceived that this also was a chasing
after wind. For in much wisdom is much grief; and he who increases
knowledge increases sorrow.
Ecclesiastes
1:2-18
The
typical interpretation of this passage uses the term, “vanity,” which distracts
from the true meaning and suggests this is a passage about humility.
In
fact, this passage and all of Ecclesiastes is an extraordinary study in
existentialism. The Preacher notes that
everything we can accomplish in our lifetimes will inescapably be erased. Even the pursuit of wisdom is, ultimately,
not worth anything. Nature itself
reflects this – the sun goes up, but its progress in the sky is reversed as it
goes down; the winds blow one way and then another; the rivers labor to fill
the ocean to capacity but it never happens.
Most
of us define ourselves by our accomplishments – whether it is building a
business, building a family, promoting good, filling our eyes with memorable
sights, or filling our minds with memorable experiences (e.g.: the recently
minted term, ‘bucket list’). If we are
asked to say a little about ourselves, we inevitably start with career,
vocation, family or something else that identifies us with a group or an
interest. At life’s crossroads,
especially at the end of earthly life, this can all seem like an exercise in
futility. And it is.
Fortunately,
our relationships to each other are not about what purpose we serve for each
other. Our relationships transcend what we can accomplish for one another. This is especially, transcendentally true of
our relationship to God. We are not what
we can accomplish for God, and God is not what He can accomplish for us. We
stand is an existential relationship – He loves us regardless of our
accomplishments on our résumés and regardless of our wisdom, experiences or
goodness.
It
is said that faith provides us with meaning and purpose. I don’t think that’s
entirely true. Faith confirms we need
not serve any purpose and still be the beloved of God. And that
infuses our lives with extraordinary meaning.
Image: Earth seen from the surface of Mars.
Image: Earth seen from the surface of Mars.
