Ecclesiastes

Scriptural Sermons

Old Testament: Ecclesiastes

By Rebecca Clancy August 21, 2020
Getting my three daughters off to Middle School last week was no mean feat. In fact, it was a back breaker. Getting them off year by year is tough enough. Normally, it requires a complicated and lengthy registration process involving the school district; school supplies lists that inevitably include hard-to-find items such as purple, one inch, three ring binders or royal blue jumbo book covers; new backpacks, lunch boxes, shoes, and clothes; and medical, dental, and vision forms. Middle School added to all that the so-called "genre" project. Some sadistic Middle School teachers thought it would be a good idea to give all incoming Middle Schoolers summer homework. My daughters each had to read three books of a given genre, summarize them in ten bullet points, and state their assessments of the genre using textual examples. This is the kind of work I give to my college students, so naturally my daughters felt the assignment to be over their heads. Bottom line -- to adequately assist them I had to read the nine books. But the real kicker turned out to be the medical, dental, and vision forms. For me that meant, here's that number again, nine separate appointments. I soldiered through them, but at the end of the ninth appointment, one of the girls was referred by the pediatrician to a specialist. "It's just one more appointment," I told myself. "Ten is a nice round number." When we got to the specialist's office, the receptionist gave us a grim look. "Doctor's running an hour behind," she stated flatly. "Doctor's running an hour behind?" I repeated weakly. I felt at this point I had neared the finish line only to be told I had ten more miles to go. "Oh well," I said to my daughter trying to put a positive spin on the thing, "at least there are lots of good magazines to read." To tell the truth I hadn't read a magazine in ages. How could I, with all the Middle School preparation I was wrestling with? I had no time for such luxuries. I opened the magazine, slipping into relaxation mode. That mode lasted until I began to peruse the first article. It was entitled “Fighting Aging”. It was an informational piece featuring a chart. On the far-left side of the chart was a list of various indicators of aging – frown lines, laugh lines, worry lines, marionette lines, dark spots, turkey neck, bags, etc. Next to the list were two columns -- one that listed the over the counter way to eradicate these indicators of aging, and another that listed the way involving medical procedures. Interspersed in the margins were graphic photos of faces diagrammed for surgery and hypodermic needles being stuck into wrinkles. I have to admit that I found the article horrifying. Aging naturally wasn’t even considered an option. Come on now, I thought. Laugh lines? Frown lines? Worry lines? Are these things really so intolerable? Can I just leave mine alone? Didn’t I earn them? Haven’t I the right to wear them? I flipped the page only to be confronted with the headline, "Celebrities Unphotoshopped" which showcased photographs of celebrities who actually looked their ages. This was being presenting as some kind of an expose, some kind of a scandal. I tossed the magazine aside, though it caused me to realize something: It take tremendous moral courage to age in this culture. But why? Why is this the case? It is, I think, that our culture exploits the vanity and insecurity that lurks, to varying degrees, in us all. Our culture does so by advancing a false, but inviolable premise – namely, that youth is good, and maturity is bad. We are inundated by this premise, and we have internalized it. Hence we seek to appear young. Case in point: If we are told we look ten years younger than we are, we are delighted; but if we would ever happened to be told that we look ten years older than we are, we would carry the insult to the grave. And to make matters worse, our culture advances this false but inviolable premise only so that it can make money off of us; so it can sell us goods and services. But we could go deeper. It’s not just our vanity and insecurity that are being preyed upon. It’s our mortality. Let’s face it. We evade our mortality. We don’t want to be bound to the circle of life, especially as that circle cycles downward. We don’t want to grow old -- to slow down, to suffer physical limitations and ailments, to experience loss, to become marginalized, and finally to die. And our culture, in marketing youth to us, aids us in this evasion of our mortality. As I said, it takes tremendous moral courage to age in this culture. But that moral courage the Bible provides. It provides it throughout its unfolding. The Bible has a whole different take on aging than our culture. Consider the book of Ecclesiastes. The book of Ecclesiastes acknowledges that there are inexorable stages of life -- “a time to be born and a time to die” -- but here’s the key thing. It describes these stages of life as, “matters under heaven.” The book of Ecclesiastes recognizes that it is God who has ordained these stages of life. And as the Bible unfolds further it helps us to understand why God has ordained these stages of life. Paul hints at it – “Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day.” God has ordained these stages of life as the means to ready us for consummation in God’s eternity. And aging, if by God’s providence we reach that stage of life, is the stage God has ordained for us to wind down, to let go, to say farewell, to look back and discern the ways in which we bore God’s image in our lifetimes, and to look forward to the glory that will be revealed. And if this were not enough evidence of the Bible’s take on aging, we need only look to the Bible’s culmination, to the Christ event. God sent Christ precisely to demonstrate -- to teach us and to show us -- that at all stages of life, and in all that these stages may hand us, God is with us, bestowing upon us the way of his eternity. The Bible then, needless to say, would not approve of our culture’s take on aging. In fact, the Bible would repudiate it. It would contend that our culture’s take on aging is a human concoction that denies God’s very providence for us. And this much is undeniable: there is no sense in contending with God’s providence for us. God created us as his, and God is God. So to contend with God’s providence for us is in the last analysis self-denying. It’s self-defeating. It’s downright suicide. Maturity, friends, means to be fully developed. Maturity then is a good thing. Let us strive then to embrace maturity as it comes, and to be, whatever our age, mature Christians who fear not life and fear not death. Amen.
By Rebecca Clancy May 18, 2020
“There is nothing new under the sun.” This is the contention of the book of Ecclesiastes. “There’s nothing new under the sun.” But is this good news or bad news? You could certainly make the case that it’s good news. If there’s nothing new under the sun, then whatever befalls us has befallen others. Others have shared our successes and failures. Others have known our joys and sorrows. That’s not bad news– that the realities of life play upon us all. It leads to the conclusion that we’re in good company, that we’re all in it together. I’d say that’s good news. However, this is not the case the book of Ecclesiastes makes. The book of Ecclesiastes makes the case that it’s bad news. It makes the case it’s bad news because its author, known enigmatically as Qoheleth, has taken a long hard look at life and has seen that the wicked people prosper at the expense of the righteous, that fools decline to let their words be few, that oppressors prey upon the vulnerable, that achievements are dismantled by their inheritors, that one’s memory is quickly forgotten; and there’s nothing new under the sun. Just that, again and again and again. So it’s bad news. And so, given that its bad news, the only positive advice Qoheleth has to give, if you can call it positive advice, is this. If you can derive any enjoyment from anything in this life then by all means do so, for that’s all life will ever afford you. But, no sooner does he give, and give meagerly, with one hand than he takes away with the other, for he documents in painful detail his own failed attempt to derive any enjoyment from this life. First, he documents, he sought to derive enjoyment from wisdom, from a wise understanding of life over against his own dismal sense of it. And indeed he pursued wisdom, surpassing, in his words “all who were over Jerusalem before him.” But wisdom only confirmed the bad news. “In much wisdom,” he wrote, “is much vexation, and those who increase wisdom increase sorrow.” After wisdom, he sought to derive enjoyment from pleasure, from all the diversions that make for laughter, but found that there is only, under the circumstances, the laughter of fools. After pleasure, he sought to derive enjoyment from wine, not so much to “make merry the heart” but to dull the senses and nerves. But wine only underscored the need for escapism. After wine, he sought to derive pleasure from productivity. He built houses, vineyards, gardens, parks, orchards, and pools. After productivity, it was possessions. He acquired slaves, herds, flocks, gold, silver, and other treasure. After possessions, it was concubines. Ironically, in these pursuits, he became the greatest man of his time. But all to no avail. There was no enjoyment to be had in any of it. There is nothing new under the sun. According to Qoheleth, very bad news indeed. I doubt many of us hold Qoheleth’s position quite as staunchly as he does. If we did, we’d be curled up in fetal balls. But don’t we all, from our own vantage points, at least have some sense of what he is talking about? I must admit I do. Having spent most of my life studying ancient thought systems, I’m here to tell you there’s nothing new under the sun. There have been no new thought systems to come down the pike since ancient times. But what, you may say skeptically, of humanism, the belief that took root at close of theological age that humanity is capable of mastering its own destiny, of achieving its own fulfillment? Humanism is just a secularized version of Pelagianism, the fourth century belief that humanity can earn its own salvation. Well then you may say, what about Marxism, the belief that an inevitable clash will end the problems of history and usher in utopia? But Marxism is just a secularized version of apocalypticism, the 2 nd century BCE belief that God will destroy history in a cataclysm and usher in his reign. Well then, what about the entire advent of science? Science is not per se, a thought system. Science, rather, endeavors to understand physical reality, but once it goes beyond that to the belief that understanding physical reality can disclose ultimate reality, that’s just pantheism, the belief that “God” is the sum total of the cosmos, which in its rudiments predated the Old Testament period. There are no new thought systems, only the resurrection and rehashing of old ones. And so, I have sometimes wondered, what’s the point? What’s the point of thought systems if the ancient ones are obsolete and the new ones derivative? Who cares what they all have to say anyway? What’s it all been for? All our thinking hasn’t improved us much, or at all. The twentieth century was the bloodiest century in human history, unless the twenty-first beats it. And from your own vantage points, you probably have a sense of what he’s talking about too. Maybe you always hoped that you’d rise a bit higher in your career, but from whatever glass ceiling you’re trapped under -- the ceiling of gender, the ceiling of age, the ceiling of politics, the ceiling of talent – you come to realize you’re just one ox in the herd in the workaday world. Soon you’ll retire and someone much like you when you first started out will take your place. After your retirement party, you’ll be forgotten, so what was the point of all your exertions? Or maybe you’re already retired and you find there was some small point of all your exertions -- your nest egg. But then, before you’ve even begun to go blue in the gills, the kids eye your nest egg. One seeks to borrow against it and that makes the other nervous and mistrustful. They get to feuding over it, and both end up blaming you. So what was the point of the kids? Whatever your vantage point, you probably have at least a sense of what he’s talking about. There’s nothing new under the sun. So what’s the point? At this juncture you may be wondering, why all this bad news at church? Don’t I come here for the good news? There’s enough bad news out there right now. Where are the wonderful words of life we were just singing about? Well, friends, they’re not in the book of Ecclesiastes. In fact, many biblical scholars have questioned, why was the book of Ecclesiastes even canonized? And the question remains an open one. It’s been raised but has never answered. Some scholars have offered the theory that the canonizers believed it to have been written by Solomon, but that theory is seems rather weak. Even if the canonizers did believe it to have been written by Solomon, which is dubious, that wouldn’t necessitate that it be canonized. The canonizers would have realized that the canon shouldn’t include every word written by every biblical player. What next, David’s love letters to Bathsheba? I have my own theory as to why the book of Ecclesiastes was canonized, but it’s not a critical theory like scholars offer. It’s more a faithful theory, like pastors offer. Maybe the canonizers realized that the book of Ecclesiastes documented a legitimate problem of existence, a problem that at some point in God’s salvation history that God would answer. It’s kind of like when the book of Hebrews declares of Abel and Enoch and Noah and Abraham that they “died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them.” The book of Ecclesiastes was canonized because it documented a legitimate problem of existence and, in faith, from a distance, saw and greeted an answer to it. Because look how it all played out. Something new finally came -- the God/Man Jesus Christ. He seemed to think that there was a point, and that point was his love – his limitless, uncompromising, universal, self-sacrificing love. And his love has made a certain point in history, to my mind the only point in history. And when we ourselves practice his love, it will make a point in our lives. It will make us new. “The old will pass away; everything will become new.” There is now something new under the sun. It is the Son of God. All praise be unto him! Amen. Holy Lord God, In the light of your son, each day holds for us the possibility to speak the truth, to act justly, to forgive, to witness, to love, and so to bring newness of life to a weary world. Help us each to find our own direction and path, our own way of following him..
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