Nothing Novel

Start here: http://biblehub.com/nasb/ecclesiastes/2.htm

Most people outside of the upper Midwest seem to have never heard of Faygo. Then, all at once it began to show up at the convenience store a town over from home. I had never seen it outside of Michigan and Ohio, so the last time we were in Michigan we stocked up before we came home. At first this was super exciting. I’d grab a can from the fridge and sit and think about being a kid, and fishing with my dad, and other happy associations. I think that red pop tastes awesome. But, when it was so easily within reach, the novelty expired.

For Solomon, there is nothing beyond his reach. But in the quiet moments; or perhaps even in the midst of the party, where every man thinks he would be most at peace with himself and with the world everything comes into perfect focus.

Those who take to psychoanalyzing Solomon say he has a classic case of depression, perhaps a bit of anxiety. He’s just overthinking. He should just relax and enjoy what he has. But those of us who have had similar experiences know this is not true. Solomon is on to something.

Ironically, pleasure can be like guilt. It is transitory. One day you are the life of the party, not long after, people are checking the list for your name because they don’t recognize you.

I think it is important to note too that Solomon is not simply speaking about his old
“party days”, he is clear in stating that he carefully tested the limits. Furthermore, it was not only pleasure that he tested, but also prestige, and plenty. In the end, all came up short. They added nothing to his life here under the sun.

So then, what matters? We have to wait a while before we find that out, so stay tuned, and in the meantime, don’t spend your life on that which is temporary, instead invest it in the eternal.

The Cost of Knowledge

Start here: http://biblehub.com/nasb/ecclesiastes/1.htm

For in much wisdom is much vexation, and he who increases knowledge increases sorrow. Ecc 1:18 ESV

Is ignorance bliss? The Preacher warns us about the dangers and limitations of wisdom and knowledge (12:12, 1:12-13&18; 2:12-15, 7:16-17, etc.). Knowing can be a burden. One symptom of our connected society is an exponentiated level of “awareness”. A few years ago many of us experienced the #Kony2012 phenomenon. Sam Sanders of NPR reported this week that Kony2012 was the video heard around the world with nearly 120,000,000 views within one week or nearly 600,000 views per day. 

Let that sink in. 

It can be overwhelming, wars, rumors of wars, earthquakes, famines… and noble as the causes may be so much of it seems out of reach. It doesn’t help that most of these initiatives are built on guilt. “Hey you! How can you just sit there playing Angry Birds when there is someone dying of bird flu!”

While we recognize that if we are unaware, we are unable to effect change, we must also recognize that awareness is not understanding. Knowledge can bring with it a sense of dysphoria, and even a sense of helplessness. What can I really do to help? I can’t catch Kony, I cannot dig enough wells, or buy enough of Tom’s shoes, mosquito nets, retroviral drugs, and so on. Sure, I can help a bit, but there is so much more to be done.

The truth is most often in the tension between truths. If we were unaware of starving children, and civil wars, life could go on in monotonous bliss; but in time, the darkness would creep over us and destroy us as well. So then, maybe we know too much? And even then, perhaps are not 

able to adequately process what we are informed about.

Go look at your kids’ soccer ball. Some years ago while in an economics class we learned that in upwards of 90% of all soccer balls come from Pakistan. No real problem there for me, global village and all. But what stuck was the news that the majority of those making these soccer balls were children, and young ones at that. Kids who from our vantage point should have been in school, reading, playing, etc. Our class was enraged. “I’m never buying a soccer ball from Pakistan again until they stop child labor!” Then, the other cleat dropped. Turns out that in Pakistan, the economy is such that all members of the household have to contribute in some way financially to survive. If these children were in school and not making soccer balls they may not have enough to eat. This naturally leads into a plethora of discussions about our unwillingness as consumers to pay more for goods, which drives prices down, which drives production costs down, which drives wages down, etc. etc. all of which is enough to keep  you up at night thinking, “How can we get these kids to school, and get cheap soccer gear?”

Perhaps it was better not to know at all?

Well, Solomon didn’t say it was better to know nothing now, did he? But we should realize that there is cost associated with knowledge. There is a spiritual cost in that if we know that good that we ought to do and do not do it, we are sinning (Jas 4:17). There is an emotional cost, in my case, it comes on me every time I step into a sporting goods store, or nearly any department store for that matter. And then, there is the cost of ignorance. Perhaps the question is this, “Which costs more in the end, knowing, or not knowing?” And for now, my answer is, “I don’t know” and Solomon’s answer seems to be not so much “do not know”, but “know that with knowledge comes sorrow.” This is the economy of knowledge. 

Good Morning, Everything is Meaningless. . .

Everything is Meaningless: Ecc 1:1-11 

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Vanity of vanities… All is vanity.

Imagine opening a new piece of exercise equipment and seeing a note from the manufacturer which says, “Suggested garage sale price…”So begins the book of Ecclesiastes, easily the most misunderstood and under-appreciated volume of the Wisdom literature.

At best, what drives us today is a romantic, “carpe diem” approach to life, a Hawthornean mandate to “suck the marrow” out of life. At a more mundane level, there is the desire to pay the bills, to simply survive. This can manifest itself more selfishly as raw materialism, as conspicuous consumption (perhaps the great open sin of the Western church). From the first time we tell our preschool teacher that we want to be an astronaut, we want to “be somebody”.

Yet, instead of starting with “big dreams” or “vision casting”, Quoheleth (“the preacher”, traditionally king Solomon) gives what is arguably the most de-motivational speech of all time. “Your life? It will be hard. At times it will seem to drag on forever and when you die it will feel too short. And in the end it is extremely likely that no one will even know you were here.”

Is he trying to clip our wings? Let’s get this straight; life was never about making ourselves great. It is about making God’s name great. Stated another way, we are not here to make a name for ourselves, but to make great the name of God. Life is filled with joy and wonder; but also has a droning back beat of monotony that will not be overcome until the clock ticks for us from time in to eternity.

Some cannot receive this message and so simply refuse to read Ecclesiastes, asserting it is too bleak. Yet it was written to be read. If we turn to the Bible only hoping to sip some chicken soup for our soul, we will miss the soup for the noodle. Scripture is a wonderfully diverse library delving into the spectrum of human experience. Ecclesiastes, serves as a grand leveler, admonishing us to snap out of it, to see life in all its transience, see ourselves through that lens, and ultimately see ourselves in light of the intransient and eternal God who not only gives meaning, but perhaps is best understood as meaning.

But now we are getting ahead of ourselves.

For now, get your head out of the clouds, and your feet on the ground. And if we can read this right, knowing that we are not likely to be the link between epochs, it can actually take a bit of the pressure off.