sermon notes from the Vineyard Church of Milan 01/12/2014
video available at www.sundaystreams.com/go/MilanVineyard
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5Fools fold their hands
and ruin themselves.
6Better one handful with tranquility
than two handfuls with toil
and chasing after the wind
Ecclesiastes 4v5,6
Fear drives so much of destructive human activity. In our struggle to survive, we see two great enemies. The enemy “futility” or “failure” that threatens to frustrate all of our efforts if we take action in our lives. The other enemy is “scarcity” or “not enough.” It drives us like a slavemaster, never letting us rest in the quest to stay one step ahead of it.
One enemy says, give up!, satisfaction is available to no one. The other enemy says fight!, satisfaction is only available to a few, the ones at the top.
If we fear futility and failure, we never actually live. We stay back, in hiding, from the wild world where life happens. We try to satisfy ourselves with comfort, with what pleasures we can, with escapism or numbing agents to dull the pain from the marks futility has left on us. We waste away. We live in a world of make believe, where we convince ourselves we’ve made the best choices, but somewhere deep down, we know there was meant to be more to us than this.
And we end up in the same condition as if we’d never gotten started in the first place.
We’ve got our hands folded, consuming our own flesh.
If we fear scarcity, we strive and chase and run and fight and claw to get to the top. Or at least high enough that it slows down to feast on those below us, buying us some time. The big problem is that no matter how high we climb, satisfaction proves elusive. Always just around the corner.
A little more money. One more promotion. A little thinner. A little more beautiful. A little more success. Respect. Fame. More obedient kids. A better spouse. More caring friends.
We’ve got two fists full of labor and striving after the wind.
But we never ever catch it.
“Meaningless! Meaningless!”
says the Teacher.
“Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless!”
Listen to this conversation between two partners on HBO’s new drama, True Detectives…
[show video clip…you can view it by watching the stream from www.sundaystreams.com/go/MilanVineyard on January 19th, starting at about the 17:50 mark]]
I’ve got an idea. Let’s make the car a place of silent reflection from now on.
Which maybe isn’t such a bad idea, is it? Because if we go on what we can observe about life – which is what the Teacher in Ecclesiastes is forcing us to do – it would be easy to come to the conclusion that suicide is really the best way out. Unless, like Matthew McConaughey’s character suggests, we just don’t have the constitution for it.
What a dark view! But like Woody Harrelson’s character realized, it’s hard to argue with it. Echoing the same observations as Solomon, both Egyptians and Babylonians came to the conclusion that when you add it all up, everything is meaningless. In light of the meaninglessness of life, the Babylonian wisdom literature even recommended suicide as the wisest course of action.
But doesn’t something in you resist? Doesn’t something in you say, no, wait, there has to be more to the story?
As we began to see last week, the writer of Ecclesiastes agrees with that something in you that resists. Because the sense of life’s meaning can’t come from what is seen – what is “under the sun,” in the language of Ecclesiastes – but rather from what God makes known.
In other words, there is more going on in the world than meets the eye. There is an uncreated One above the sun who inhabits our vapor filled world and gives it substance and meaning through his love. There is a way to not seek satisfaction from the vapor – the fleeting, insubstantial pleasures and successes and things and activities under the sun – but instead to receive every thing, every present moment, every person, every task set before us, every joy and even every hardship as a gift from God’s hand. And in so doing to discover a true and lasting satisfaction in the God who is the giver of every good and perfect gift. And along the way to discover that all that is “under the sun,” – our own selves and lives included – exists to be an expression of and container for God’s love.
Purpose of Ecclesiastes is to teach that there is no basis for confidence in ourselves; our only confidence is in what God will do for us.
This is why the teacher begins with disruption. He disrupts our confidence that we can ever achieve satisfaction for ourselves. Because as long as we buy the lie that we can eventually have or achieve enough to be satisfied, we will keep chasing after the wind, and discover that everything is vapor. Fleeting. Insubstantial. Unsatisfying.
[This is one of the fundamental flaws of the prosperity gospel – its appeal rests in advertising itself as the best vapor management scheme. It says the way to get enough is to be obedient to God’s instructions, and then we will have enough to be satisfied, nay, more than enough – we will be truly, abundantly, prosperous. Its flaw is that it peddles the lie that vapor – prosperity, money, wealth, good things – matters at all on its own. It doesn’t! It’s meaningless. It will be gone someday. It will be given to others who will mismanage it. Until what little we have is received as an expression of and container of God’s love, as a gift, then getting more doesn’t do anything for us.
Here’s the truth that the prosperity gospel twists. Once we receive what we have as gift from God’s hand, why then it’s filled with joy for us, such that we have no lust for more. And then finally, perhaps, we can be good stewards of it, and then God may entrust us with more.
But the more that God gives us will never be our source of satisfaction, and as long as that’s what we want, it won’t matter how much we have. It will all be vapor, a chasing after the wind. And so it will be taken from us, so that it can be transformed again into an expression of and container of God’s love, to be received by another who can receive it as gift.]
So if you read all the way through Ecclesiastes, you will come to Solomon’s conclusion, right at the end of the book, in chapter 12.
3Now all has been heard;
here is the conclusion of the matter:
Fear God and keep his commandments,
for this is the ⌈duty⌉ of every human being.
Fear God and keep his commandments.
The word Fear here comes from a Hebrew word meaning fear.
Huh? So our problems stem from the fact that we are afraid, and how we either cower in response to that fear or strive and claw in response to that fear. And now the solution to our fear is just another fear?
Well, yes.
Of course.
Except that this fear has a very, very different outcome.
Scarcity and futility are lies. They are the perversion of reality into unreality. They are smoke and shadow. They are less than vapor, less than meaningless. Why would we bend our ear to them? Why would we build our lives in response to them? Why would we pay them our attention? Why would we account for them in the equations of our actions. The fear of scarcity and the fear of futility drives us to death.
But God is reality’s deepest foundation. He is the Truth that undergirds all truth. He is substance. Fire and light. He is the one to whom we should bend our ear. Build our life in response to. Pay attention to. He is the one to factor into all our actions equations. The fear of Elohim – the creator of the universe – leads us to life.
Where then does wisdom come from?...It is hidden from the eyes of every living thing…God understands the way to it and he alone knows where it dwells…And he said to the human race, “The fear of the Lord – that is wisdom, and to shun evil is understanding.”
Job 28
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.
Proverbs 9:10
When we human beings are afraid, our amygdalas, the more primitive parts of our brain, hijack our frontal cortex and bend it towards the amygdala’s primitive, fear-driven purposes. [For what it’s worth, this is part of why the politics of fear are so effective …if you can make someone afraid of something, you can get them do almost anything you want, even if it’s not in their best interests.] We lose our sense of humor when we are afraid. We can’t think straight. Our memory doesn’t work very well. We have a hard time learning.
So what is God to do if he wants to rescue us fearful human beings, enslaved in fear to slave masters who are bent on our destruction?
He turns our misplaced fear towards himself, the one who loves us. So that he can arrest our attention, and begin to lead us to joy and hope. The condition in which we thrive.
Think about Jesus’ disciples out in the boat, in the storm, rowing hard and getting nowhere. Isn’t that the human condition? Surrounded by fearful things, in the dark of night. Straining so hard to get to the shore, pinning our hopes on the shore. But not getting any closer no matter how hard we try. Thinking, the problem is the storm, this wind, and these waves. If I just try a little harder, I can overcome them. I can get there, and then I can rest. Or maybe thinking, I should just give up. What’s the point? It’s all futility, failure. Let me enjoy my last moments before the waves swallow me up, at least.
And then they see Jesus out on the water, and they are frightened.
“Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”
The disciples’ attention is turned from the wind and waves to Jesus – they are still afraid, perhaps even more so, or at least they are conscious of their fear for the first time, so much so that they cry out. And this is exactly what Jesus needs from them to give them life. Now he can engage with them. Show them who he really is. Invite them into a life without fear, walking on the water with him. Calming the wind and waves. Getting in their boat. Being worshipped by them – because now they are experiencing life as gift, and sure enough he gets them to the other side (immediately!), but that’s not what they care about. They just care about the fact that the Son of God is with them in their boat. That’s enough for them. They’ve got nothing to fear anymore.
All wisdom literature is designed to strengthen our trust in Yahweh. To get us to fix our eyes on him and realize that he is good. That he loves us. That he is going to provide for us. That there is no scarcity to worry about. That futility and failure aren’t valid concerns because his love isn’t conditioned on our performance. That all he wants from us is that we would trust him, depend on him, wait for him, so that he can bless us. That all he wants is for us to be free of fear so that we can enter into his love, his perfect love that drives out fear.
This is the goal of Ecclesiastes, as we see in its last verses. And yet, it spends all its energy on immersing us in an experience of meaninglessness. What’s going on?
What if the Christian life really begins by following Jesus to the cross and participating in the loss that we find there? The doubt that cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” What if that’s true faith? What if that’s where life is found? In that kind of death?
I entered 2014 unsatisfied,
and without any particular expectations of satisfaction on the horizon.
Unsatisfied with the results of my life to date.
Unsatisfied with my prospects for the future.
Unsatisfied with many of the things that felt like they mattered.
Not a pleasant place to be.
Don’t get me wrong.
I had hope in the existential sense. I knew God was good. That he delights in doing good. That he has good ahead for us. For me.
I knew I was surrounded by all sorts of good.
Good things. Good people. Good goings on.
But I didn’t know what I was supposed to be going after.
What the point of anything was, really.
It all felt pretty meaningless.
Which was strange, a bit, because I know, that basically, I’ve done as God has asked me to do. I know I’ve followed his leading, more or less, but surely on the whole, I’ve followed to this place where I found myself.
It wasn’t clear what I was supposed to be doing, now.
I mean, I know that what I am doing is a good thing.
But as I looked at my life, at God’s promises, at the things I care about
And I looked at what I could see on the horizon
The prospects for satisfaction looked bleak to me
Nothing was adding up to any form of satisfaction in the foreseeable future.
What I wanted was rescue. A particular kind of rescue. I wanted God to miraculously re-arrange the vapor in a way that looked more satisfying to me.
Have you ever been there? I can’t imagine I’m the only one.
But I think what God wants for me – and may I be so bold as to suggest, us – is true rescue. The kind that begins as we follow him to the cross. A journey that we can’t take if we are responding to the fear of scarcity. Nor one that we can take if we are responding to the fear of futility. A journey that we can only take if we are responding to the fear of the Lord. Because if we have the fear of the Lord, we won’t be afraid to stand to toe to toe with Scarcity, as Jesus did on the cross. To stand toe to toe with Futility, as Jesus did in the tomb.
This is what the teacher in Ecclesiastes is inviting us into. Into an experience where we come face to face with the loss of everything we’ve been chasing after. Dying to it. Dying to the idea that money or relationships or success or stuff or fame or people (a spouse, a child, a friend) or respect or good health or even holiness or ministry effectiveness is anything more than vapor, a chasing after the wind.
What if the only way we’ll ever be freed to receive everything as a gift from God, encountering him moment by moment with fear that gives way to peace and joy, is if we first experience the fullness of meaninglessness. If we first experience the cross of Christ that is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.
Everything under the sun is meaningless, says the Teacher.
But not the sun.
The sun itself has meaning, gives meaning.
The sun bathes the world in light.
Everything under the sun that can receive its light and reflect its radiance can receive meaning from it, and become meaningful because of it.
Jesus rises from the dead just before dawn on the first day of a new week. Just before the sun has had a chance to shine and give meaning to world that is now about to be filled with the living presence of God.
God is light.
God is love.
Love is meaning.
Love brings all real things into existence.
Love bathes the world in light.
Love is that which illuminates others, not herself.
Like the wind, she can be received and felt and delighted in, but never grasped.
Practical Suggestions:
1. Write down two things and bring them to communion to leave at the cross.
One thing you have not done out of fear of failure or futility. Something you really wanted to do or felt God calling you to do at some point in your life.
One thing you have chased after out of fear of scarcity, hoping that if you got enough you’d be satisfied. Money. A person. A job. Success. Popularity. Appearance. Etc.
At communion, say, “I’m done being afraid of you. God, help me to fear you instead.” Do that every day until you encounter God in that fear and feel what it is to be afraid of him.
2. Pray for one person you know locally – that you interact with monthly at least, and preferably weekly – and that isn’t, so far as you know, aware of God’s love for them. Pray that they would experience everything in their life, in an increasing way, as God’s gift to them, an expression of and container of his love.
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