Not only are we given songs to sing and nuggets of wisdom to help guide our way, but we also find that the narrative of God contains some ideas about meaning and purpose. I have to be able to know why I’m on this journey and exactly what I’m up to. Knowing these things is just another one of those tools that helps me hang on, walk the good path, and follow the ancient ways.
At our recent All-Staff Conference, Impact Campus Ministries watched a TED Talk by Simon Sinek about why certain organizations do so well. You can watch the presentation here.
Knowing the “why” is important. It not only keeps us tied to the straight and narrow, but it also inspires us to get up in the morning and be a part of God’s great project. In a lot of ways, knowing God’s “big story” is the whole reason I teach the classes I teach, serve in the world of campus ministry, and write these blogs. To understand the meta-narrative — God’s big story — is to have a huge head start on understanding meaning and purpose.
Ecclesiastes has long been known for it’s interesting approach to talking about meaning. On the surface, the book appears to be hauling off in never-ending pessimism, calling everything into question and then reigning down the verdict of “VANITY!” in every direction. I have often heard Bible teachers teach that the main thrust of Ecclesiastes is subversive; the author spends time showing how everything is meaningless and then inductively surprises the reader with his point: God gives meaning to everything.
I don’t think this take on Ecclesiastes is incorrect by any means. As is the case with almost all ancient Eastern writing, there are many different levels on which to read the Text. As the reader continues to study the intricacies of the Text, they notice clues and hints that pull them deeper and deeper into what the author is really trying to pull off. I believe there is much of this taking place in the book of Ecclesiastes and I think it is important because there is much debate that surrounds whether Solomon actually wrote the book, and even whether the beginning and ending of the book were added at some later time. (I’m not going to wade into that one here. Sorry.)
It’s my belief that this book is loaded with buried wisdom underneath all the talk of meaninglessness. I will use one example in order to make my point. At the beginning of chapter 7, we read the following words:
A good name is better than fine perfume,
and the day of death better than the day of birth.
it is better to go to a house of mourning
than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of everyone;
the living should take this to heart.
Seems a little heavy-handed, don’t you think? Is this really what we’re supposed to understand from the great Teacher here?
First we need to remember that the chapter breaks didn’t exist; so the reader needs to ignore that big number seven in their Bible. Being reminded of that, I would invite you to go and read the context surrounding chapter 7 (like Ecclesiastes 6–7 or so).
In the middle of this diatribe (and no, I haven’t necessarily found a chiasm — yet) the writer says “a good name is better than fine perfume.” This remark comes in the middle of the author trying to decide what will be left after he is gone.
What really matters in this life? What will have an eternal ring to it and ripple throughout the ages?
Try to look through the surface and hear the author’s wrestling match, not just be depressed by the pessimism.
A good name is better than fine perfume,
and the day of death better than the day of birth.
it is better to go to a house of mourning
than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of everyone;
the living should take this to heart.
There is much wisdom buried in there. Do you see it? I don’t often quote Charles Spurgeon, but I ran into this earlier this morning:
“A good character is the best tombstone. … Carve your name on hearts, not marble.”
I hate to break it to Mr. Spurgeon, but the writer of Ecclesiastes beat him to the punch: “A good name is better than fine perfume, … it is better to go to a house of mourning than a house of feasting.”
Make your life about something that matters. Make a difference in the life of other people. If you have the chance to go and sit with those in mourning or go to a great party — go to the house of mourning. When this life is over and people share at your funeral, they will not remember the parties. They will remember how you laid your life down to help put the world back together.
Is this just a book about depressing pessimism? Or is it a book about what really matters — about what really lives on after you’re gone?
We all need a reason to get out of bed in the morning. And perhaps the last book of the Bible you’d ever expect to find the answer is the very place where that kind of purpose and meaning is buried.
A good name is better than fine perfume,
and the day of death better than the day of birth.
it is better to go to a house of mourning
than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of everyone;
the living should take this to heart.
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