At the end of Ecclesiastes, the Teacher concludes that the purpose of human life is to “fear God and keep his commandments (Ecc. 12:13b).” I understood his explorations of meaninglessness in a life without God, but I felt like his conclusion never promised a pleasurable life. A content life, yes; but the description seems dispassionate to me, and as such difficult to understand as meaningful.
When I finish reading the book I immediately envision myself waking up, drinking some coffee, stepping out into the world and walking on my two feet to FearandObedienceWorks, to my unending job, where my occupation is loving God and my neighbors, and not coveting, etc. And the Teacher leaves me without answers to my questions: “Why work here? To what end? What is the meaning here that is lacking elsewhere?” I guess I have to wait for the meaning, to trust that obeying this duty is the best way to conduct my life.
Realistically, currently, I don’t do this job very well. I have a feeling no one honors this duty perfectly, but in my own lazy, distracted attempts, I wonder about why I need to keep at this day in and day out. It’s difficult, tiresome labor. I sacrifice each day on this Earth that I give to this job. I can’t see for certain how much good my work is doing for other people. I cannot see how I’m getting paid, or if I’m getting paid. Or if I need to get paid; if I deserve it.
The job begins at daybreak and ends when I crash on my pillow for another evening of sleep. There’s zero off-time. I wonder what I’m missing by taking this job. Then I remember that I do this job poorly. Maybe I barely do it at all. If I trusted its meaningfulness, if I cast off all my discontentment and envy and gave myself to God and his commands of love and surrender, day in, day out; perhaps then I’d see that I am perfectly content—and thus pleased—to do the right things of God and see the joy in this. I’ve had brief glimpses register in my spiritual senses and whisper to me that this way is Truth, but I have never fully given in, never pursued this affirmation for any consistent time. I don’t trust it entirely, that it is good to relinquish myself to God and his commands.
I think it would be best to acknowledge my discontentment, but to dive in and immerse myself in hope in God, to trust that He can lead me in ways that can redeem truly unsatisfactory aspects of our world, and that He can also lead me away from the immediate, glittery, enticing things in front of my human eyes that only seem meaningful in and of themselves.
I’m afraid and supsicious, forever hesitant, so I cannot reaffirm that the Teacher tells the truth. But maybe someone else could hollar out an “Amen” in response to the Ecclesiastes Author’s conclusion? Has anyone here seen that this is The good Way?
In addition, I ask this: Can we stand solidly on an understanding that fearing and obeying God is beautiful and perfect and ultimately meaningful? Or do we take a leap of faith from the meaningless rocks we cling to when we obey the Teacher, and only hear an occasional, Truthful whisper of affirmation in the gusts of wind that sweep us as we fly or fall to our ends?
CaptainBako
Sep 29 2002
07:52 pm
At the end of Ecclesiastes, the Teacher concludes that the purpose of human life is to “fear God and keep his commandments (Ecc. 12:13b).” I understood his explorations of meaninglessness in a life without God, but I felt like his conclusion never promised a pleasurable life. A content life, yes; but the description seems dispassionate to me, and as such difficult to understand as meaningful.
When I finish reading the book I immediately envision myself waking up, drinking some coffee, stepping out into the world and walking on my two feet to FearandObedienceWorks, to my unending job, where my occupation is loving God and my neighbors, and not coveting, etc. And the Teacher leaves me without answers to my questions: “Why work here? To what end? What is the meaning here that is lacking elsewhere?” I guess I have to wait for the meaning, to trust that obeying this duty is the best way to conduct my life.
Realistically, currently, I don’t do this job very well. I have a feeling no one honors this duty perfectly, but in my own lazy, distracted attempts, I wonder about why I need to keep at this day in and day out. It’s difficult, tiresome labor. I sacrifice each day on this Earth that I give to this job. I can’t see for certain how much good my work is doing for other people. I cannot see how I’m getting paid, or if I’m getting paid. Or if I need to get paid; if I deserve it.
The job begins at daybreak and ends when I crash on my pillow for another evening of sleep. There’s zero off-time. I wonder what I’m missing by taking this job. Then I remember that I do this job poorly. Maybe I barely do it at all. If I trusted its meaningfulness, if I cast off all my discontentment and envy and gave myself to God and his commands of love and surrender, day in, day out; perhaps then I’d see that I am perfectly content—and thus pleased—to do the right things of God and see the joy in this. I’ve had brief glimpses register in my spiritual senses and whisper to me that this way is Truth, but I have never fully given in, never pursued this affirmation for any consistent time. I don’t trust it entirely, that it is good to relinquish myself to God and his commands.
I think it would be best to acknowledge my discontentment, but to dive in and immerse myself in hope in God, to trust that He can lead me in ways that can redeem truly unsatisfactory aspects of our world, and that He can also lead me away from the immediate, glittery, enticing things in front of my human eyes that only seem meaningful in and of themselves.
I’m afraid and supsicious, forever hesitant, so I cannot reaffirm that the Teacher tells the truth. But maybe someone else could hollar out an “Amen” in response to the Ecclesiastes Author’s conclusion? Has anyone here seen that this is The good Way?
In addition, I ask this: Can we stand solidly on an understanding that fearing and obeying God is beautiful and perfect and ultimately meaningful? Or do we take a leap of faith from the meaningless rocks we cling to when we obey the Teacher, and only hear an occasional, Truthful whisper of affirmation in the gusts of wind that sweep us as we fly or fall to our ends?