Thoughts on Ecclesiastes

The following is a note posted by my good buddy, Lucas, about his feelings in regards to Ecclesiastes.  The book is in the old testament of the Bible, written by King Solomon.  It’s pretty much the most emo piece of literature ever written.  Enjoy.

Thoughts on Ecclesiastes

I don’t usually write, but if you guys like this I may write more… Sorry if there are grammar or other errors in this, it was a first draft written in a flow of consciousness style.  Please let me know what you think…

Ecclesiastes 1:

8 All things are wearisome, 

   more than one can say.

All things are wearisome… Forever working toward an unachievable goal, happiness. The best the earth has to offer cannot satisfy my bones. The most exciting experience, the most desirable woman, the most clever man. My heart aches for the creator, and without his touch… this life is but a tired blur. An emotion I feel now but forget tomorrow.  I was not made for this world, I feel, this must just be a stoping place. I feel it likened to a journey, where one must stop in an unknown and strange town. I find it odd that we use earthly analogies to attempt to describe heavenly things. It would be like trying to describe the sunset to a blind man, and perhaps this is what Solomon means by “more than one can say.”

11 No one remembers the former generations,

   and even those yet to come

will not be remembered

   by those who follow them.

I think of all of the people of the earth, of the past. All of the men who worked tirelessly for decades to provide for their families or to make themselves feel worth something, longing for and striving toward power in an effort to gain self-worth. Do any of us remember their names? Do any of us remember their efforts? I hate this thought. All of my efforts will go on through time without meaning unless I give it meaning — and the meaning I give it is ultimately meaningless, objectively. What is what without objectivity? I can give my life all the meaning that my mind can muster, but if my actions are not remembered by future generations, was there any true meaning to them, then?

14 I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

When I read this I feel that I must imagine myself in ancient times, before Christ. I must imagine what Solomon sees, when he says “I have seen all things that are done under the sun…” Solomon sees the vain and self-serving life that seem humanity’s only pursuit. The meaninglessness of every action… and then i realize something. Solomon had no understanding of Christ. Solomon’s only context in this passage is a world before God’s physical incarnation of love entered it. A self-serving life is the only one that existed. Christ, as a human, INVENTED the idea of a life devoted to serving others.  A life that gained a purpose by the simple drive to save someone else’s life. To lessen someone else’s pain. To lighten someone else’s burden. This idea did not occur to Solomon because it is not an earthly idea. It is not earthly wisdom. This idea is much grander, a heavenly idea. This is heavenly wisdom. This wisdom flowed from a fountain that Solomon did not have access to.

18 For with much wisdom comes much sorrow;

the more knowledge, the more grief.

The more I learn about the world the more I learn how much is truly wrong in it. The world is fallen and broken. I wrestle with how God let it get this way. In his all-powerful-ness, he decided, instead of using his unlimited power to enforce his desires for us, to allow us to chose which way to behave, and in a world inhabited by darkness, none the less! I And now the responsibility falls on us to eradicate it. What a daunting challenge the Lord has trusted us with, and yet ,I am grieved by humanity’s inability to act on it. The desire is in our hearts to cleanse the world of darkness, after all, our hearts are crafted after His. I am deeply saddened by our lack of will to pursue this desire. With the knowledge of injustice how can one then justify inaction? It is with sorrow that I acknowledge this is the growing fault in the human condition. We have become too comfortable with injustice in the world, we have grown content with pain all around us, and in us, for recognizing it and doing nothing. We have accepted this pain as “awkwardness” That feeling we have when a tattered man asks us for spare change. The emotions we feel when the infomercial comes on, and there are children crying from starvation. “Though I know this needs to be dealt with, someone else will deal with it, anyone but me.” We do not feel that feeling by accident, we’ve merely learned to minimize it and then ignore it. We may even channel it into angry words, but rarely into any sort of loving action. This fills me with an incredible sorrow, but I, admittedly, have also learned to ignore it, I have learned to allow the world to influence me, while I sit back and refuse to influence the world.


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