Finding the Meaning in Meaningless

When I was in middle school, our class had to choose a "theme verse" for the year, and somebody (not me) suggested Ecclesiastes 1:2.

Our teacher called a few of us up to the chalkboard to write suggestions across its green surface, and when I was called, I took the chalk the teacher handed me. When I heard the Ecclesiastes suggestion, I flipped to the middle of my Bible and found the book. With all the relish gained from hearing a good joke, I wrote: "'Meaningless! Meaningless!' says the Teacher. 'Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless!'" 

All eyes turned to our teacher, who took it -- rather disappointingly -- in stride. I put down the chalk and returned to my seat amid the tittering laughter of my classmates. As I recall, another class had already chosen that verse for their year's theme (never underestimate the popularity of Ecclesiastes at the beginning of a school year when a class is required to choose a theme Bible verse), so we went with something different -- which, sadly, I don't remember what it was.

Yesterday, I finished up Jonah (I haven't decided which book I'll start on next yet. I'll get there). I admit, it's not a book in which I've spent a great deal of time, so digging a bit deeper into the prophet's character, I found some spotlights that shone through some of the layers around my heart. I love how the Word does that. "For the Word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart" (Hebrews 4:12). 

My attitude has too often been cynical. 2020 seems to have made it even more so. I've watched the destruction of my most optimistic thoughts about leaders and role models, people I've admired or at least thought were decent, tumble into a cloud of dust over the months. Many pedestals have tilted and been shaken this past year, and my thoughts and expressions collapsed to the ground with their reputations.

The double-edged sword known as Scripture has been doing heart surgery on me this year. Precise as a scalpel, rock solid as a surgeon's steady hand, it has laid open my heart and shone me what the Lord sees when He looks at me. Not everything is pretty. Conversely, not everything is ugly, either. But all of it is His. "Let us hold unswervingly (with tenacity) to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful" (Hebrews 10:23). 

There's something to be said for stubbornness. Y'all, I'm stubborn as the day is long. There's something about being challenged that makes me dig my roots in, cross my arms, lock my jaw, and hold on. I'm not proud of it. This tendency has been a fatal flaw for me in many ways.

Except in the way that counts. 

"Meaningless! Meaningless! Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless" (Ecclesiastes 1:2). Labor? Meaningless (Ecclesiastes 1:3). Life? Same deal (Ecclesiastes 1:4). Time? Weather? Nature? "All  streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full. To the place the streams come from, there they return again." Over and over and over, times without end, from the day it began until the day it ends -- the longest Groundhog Day movie ever created.

2 Peter 3:4 says: "They will say, 'Where is this 'coming' He promised? Ever since our fathers died, everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation.'

Can you feel the tiredness? The discouragement? The disappointing lack of purpose and drive that seems to fill these phrases? Can you identify it? 

I can. It's like resting beneath one of those weighted blankets. The heaviness holds you to the mattress like a cord, and while it's restrictive, it's also... comforting in some ways. You want to close your eyes, let sleep claim you. It's easy to let go of purpose and meaning under the weight of apathy.

Y'all discouraged yet? Lol. Don't be! There's some great news!

2 Peter 3:9 goes on: "The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare. Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming!"

There's a reason we're still struggling through our time here. There is a purpose, and it's not a meaningless purpose.

He doesn't want anyone to perish; He wants everyone to come to repentance. Will everyone? Nope. But He's going to freely give the chance.

I love that phrase: "Speed its coming." You and I know that there's not a solitary thing we can do to make that day come any faster. It's a set date, it's on the Kingdom Calendar, and only the Father knows what that day is. But like a sprinter rounding the last curve of the track, we lean forward toward the finish line with exuberance and abandon, leaving every hindrance behind us. We lean toward our salvation, with our eyes fixed on the Author and Perfecter of our faith. The Writer and the Editor. 

The other day as I was praying, I stopped short when I heard the phrase: "To the nines." I knew the Holy Spirit was speaking, so I asked for clarification. Looking up the phrase, "to the nines" means: "To perfection." If you dress "to the nines," you dress to perfection. Your outfit is perfect, resplendent, without flaws. 

That evening, I was watching the movie Remember the Titans with my family. There's a scene in the locker room where the football team is facing imminent defeat. The coach tells the players they've played their best, and that's all they can do. But one of the players speaks up. "No it ain't, Coach. With all due respect, you demanded more of us. You demanded perfection. Now I ain't saying that I'm perfect, 'cause I'm not. And I ain't never gonna be. None of us are. But we have won every single game we have played till now. So this team is perfect."

The team... well, it carries the players. It's made up of the players. The players aren't perfect, but in this case, the team is perfect.

The church... well, it's made up of sinners, saved by grace. "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us..." making us perfect. The Lord is in the business of making perfect. It's what He does. He's the greatest Author and Editor; He's still writing our stories.

Every detail. Even those seemingly meaningless details like the adverbs, the speech tags, the red herrings, and the plot devices.

Meaningless? Not your story. Not mine. Not even close.
Perfection? Yes, absolutely.

The writer of Ecclesiastes closes his book with this: "Now all has been heard, here is the conclusion of the matter. Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil" (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14).

You have got a purpose; I have got a purpose, whether we feel like it or not, whether its hidden or not. And your purpose is perfect. You aren't, I'm not, but our purpose is. Don't sit on the sidelines and let it pass you by. Get off the bench, get in the race. Round that last curve of the track and lean toward the finish line. It'll come more quickly than we realize.