Meaningless!?
He was a teacher, we know that. That's the way he identifies himself. And not just "a teacher," but The Teacher. We don't know if he taught a subject in school or if he was a rabbi (a religious teacher), because the only writing we have of his is a brief piece of wisdom writing, a book we call "Ecclesiastes." (That's a word that refers to a speech or something given to "the assembly," so this was composed for a gathering of important people. Think of it as a keynote speech.)
He is also a "son of David," and so for much of history we have assumed this book was written by Solomon, because he also self-identifies as a "king in Jerusalem." "Son," however, could refer not just to David's immediate offspring but to even a great-great-great-great (or more) grandchild. Someone from David's family. Jesus was called a "son of David." And whether this was Solomon or not really doesn't affect how we read this book in the twenty-first century.
A teacher. A preacher of wisdom. A son of David, a king. Someone to whom every privilege had been extended. Someone for whom doors would open, and cost was not an obstacle. He could have anything in the world he wanted (and, if it was Solomon who wrote this, history says he did have most everything).
So why does he begin his teaching of wisdom with these rather depressing words?
Had something happened in his life that had brought him to this place? Had a loved one died? Had he lost direction in life? We don't know the direct circumstances, but we do know this: he was a king who likely had tried all the pleasures of life (or at least could have) and still found that there was a hole in his soul. Whatever he thought would bring him meaning, purpose and satisfaction had failed. Everything, he concluded, was meaningless.
And that's part of why I want to take some time to walk through this book, because I believe Ecclesiastes may have more to say to our time and our culture than we think. A lot of folks avoid this book because it's seen as depressing or hopeless or not nearly as fun to read as the stories. But we live in a world where every pleasure is available. Every luxury is attainable (for a price). We have 500 channels on TV (and nothing to watch). We have unlimited internet possibilities on the phones in our pockets. We can "friend" nearly every person in the world (or so it seems). We can "reach out and touch someone" at any moment. We can go anywhere, do most anything and still we are discontent.
If life is so good, why are the leading causes of death self-inflicted? Not just suicide, but through other means as well—drugs, alcohol, and the like. Life is good, and yet so many (even those who don't harm themselves) have concluded that it is meaningless.
"Everything is meaningless."
But the Gospel screams that it is not. No action is meaningless! No life is worthless! No situation is without hope! So how can we hear that message and live that message in the midst of an Ecclesiastes world?
That's the question I want to look at over the next few weeks. Because life is not meaningless. Life is a gift of God, and it is a wonder. The Teacher is wrong on this point. Stick with me and perhaps we'll see how.
He is also a "son of David," and so for much of history we have assumed this book was written by Solomon, because he also self-identifies as a "king in Jerusalem." "Son," however, could refer not just to David's immediate offspring but to even a great-great-great-great (or more) grandchild. Someone from David's family. Jesus was called a "son of David." And whether this was Solomon or not really doesn't affect how we read this book in the twenty-first century.
A teacher. A preacher of wisdom. A son of David, a king. Someone to whom every privilege had been extended. Someone for whom doors would open, and cost was not an obstacle. He could have anything in the world he wanted (and, if it was Solomon who wrote this, history says he did have most everything).
So why does he begin his teaching of wisdom with these rather depressing words?
“Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher.
“Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless.” (Ecclesiastes 1:2)
Had something happened in his life that had brought him to this place? Had a loved one died? Had he lost direction in life? We don't know the direct circumstances, but we do know this: he was a king who likely had tried all the pleasures of life (or at least could have) and still found that there was a hole in his soul. Whatever he thought would bring him meaning, purpose and satisfaction had failed. Everything, he concluded, was meaningless.
And that's part of why I want to take some time to walk through this book, because I believe Ecclesiastes may have more to say to our time and our culture than we think. A lot of folks avoid this book because it's seen as depressing or hopeless or not nearly as fun to read as the stories. But we live in a world where every pleasure is available. Every luxury is attainable (for a price). We have 500 channels on TV (and nothing to watch). We have unlimited internet possibilities on the phones in our pockets. We can "friend" nearly every person in the world (or so it seems). We can "reach out and touch someone" at any moment. We can go anywhere, do most anything and still we are discontent.
If life is so good, why are the leading causes of death self-inflicted? Not just suicide, but through other means as well—drugs, alcohol, and the like. Life is good, and yet so many (even those who don't harm themselves) have concluded that it is meaningless.
"Everything is meaningless."
But the Gospel screams that it is not. No action is meaningless! No life is worthless! No situation is without hope! So how can we hear that message and live that message in the midst of an Ecclesiastes world?
That's the question I want to look at over the next few weeks. Because life is not meaningless. Life is a gift of God, and it is a wonder. The Teacher is wrong on this point. Stick with me and perhaps we'll see how.
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