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Preacher: Ross Macdonald
Scripture: Ecclesiastes 3:12-15
Well this morning we continue on in Ecclesiastes chapter 3. A few weeks ago we began this chapter with the poem on time in verses 1 -8. Last week we looked at verses 9 -11. We returned to the great question that began this whole book that the king in Jerusalem has been pursuing up to this point in chapter 3.
And he repeated that question in his own way in chapter 3 verse 9. What profit has the worker from that in which he labors? And then he also reminded us of this task that in chapter 1 he called a great evil.
This task of restless labor that could find no lasting endurance, no lasting value under the sun. But he no longer calls it evil because at the very end of chapter 2 he began to apply his mind to understand that not seizing or obtaining things through his work under the sun was the key to actually opening his hands and receiving from his labors under the sun the very gift of God.
That there was indeed nothing better for him than to enjoy eating and drinking and working because this is a gift from God. And we see in verse 11 he's made everything beautiful, everything fitting in its time.
And then we came to one of the more profound statements in the whole book against the poem of time, this twist that eternity is put in the heart of man by God. And so this tension exists between the forever we were made to reflect and the temporality under the sun in which we exist.
And we recognize our limitations, our bounds as God's creatures. And indeed as we saw at the end of verse 11, no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end. So this morning we want to continue in this flow from verses 9 through 11 looking at verses 12 through 15.
Verse 16 will begin a new section and a new theme that's going to run through the rest of chapters 3 and 4. And as we look at verses 12 through 15, we're going to see the focus continues to be not on the king's work, not on mankind's work, but on God's work.
As we've seen really from the beginning of chapter 3, the focus has been on what God has done, what God is doing, the work that God does. And that focus continues even this morning. Notice we have it just in verse 11 and verses 12 through 15 carry this forward.
The work that God does, no one can know. And we'll continue, as we'll see in a moment, focusing on the work that God does. The king's emphasis has strongly shifted from the absence of God, largely in chapters 1 and 2, when he began this quest, when he sought to seize and understand and obtain, and he got frustrated and vexed and found it a great evil and hung his head low in misery.
And we didn't find a lot of references to God, a lot of references to God as maker, as sustainer, as giver, until the very end of chapter 2. And now almost all of the focus has shifted to God. Now there's a constant focus upon God.
And so with that, we want to continue looking at God's work, but also learn about our response. And that's the question we have before us in verses 12 through 15. How do we respond to God's work? Ecclesiastes 3, beginning in verse 12.
I know that nothing is better for them than to rejoice and to do good in their lives, and also that every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good of all his labor. It is a gift of God. I know that whatever God does, it shall be forever.
Nothing can be added to it, nothing can be taken from it. God does it so that men should fear before Him. That which has already been and what is to be has already been, and God requires an account of what is past.
So first, let's look at responding to what God gives. If you've looked at titles over the past three weeks, it had been God Gives, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3. God gives a gift of labor, a gift to enjoy. God gives a time and a purpose.
God gives a task to man. All the focus is on what God has given, and in verses 12 and 13, we return to what God has given. Notice this repetition. I know. Remember, He began in chapter 1 with the quest to know.
I wanted to know. I sought to know. I wanted to get it. I wanted to understand. What we've seen in these last few verses is He does know now. He does acknowledge. He does understand. That's going to be repeated in verse 14.
I know that nothing is better. That should be familiar to us from the end of chapter 2. Nothing is better. I know that nothing is better for them than to rejoice and to do good in their lives, and also that every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good of all his labor.
It is the gift of God. So we have repetition between rejoicing and enjoying and doing good, but also receiving or enjoying the good. And this is all the gift, that is, that which is given by God. So we are to respond to what God gives.
Again, we've left the tension of time. We've left that poem from verses 1 through 8. We've left the fact that there's this tension because of eternity in our hearts. And now we return to these so-called carpe diem statements.
The first time we saw it was 2, 24 through 26. This is now the second time we've seen this carpe diem refrain, this call to enjoy life as a gift. Some reminder about these statements. We're going to see another one in chapter 3, and then three more, chapter 5, chapters 8 and 9.
Six altogether, and as we said, when we encountered the first one at the end of chapter 2, this forms the beginning of an answer to the question that drives the book. What profit has a man for all the toil with which he toils under the sun?
The end of chapter 2 framed that beginning of an answer like this. Nothing is better for a man than that he should eat and drink, that his soul should enjoy good in his labor. This also I saw was from the hand of God.
The hand of God we saw as signifying favor or blessing, but also providential control, and that carried us into God's control over time, and the gift that He gives in every season of life for those who have an eye and understanding to His sovereign purpose.
And as we've seen all along, Ecclesiastes is acting like a practical commentary on Genesis 1 through 3, beginning at creation and then coming down to the effects of the fall. We saw that eating and drinking and labor are at the very heart of what it means to be creatures in God's world.
This was how Adam and Eve were planted in Eden, and this is what the curse affected. Cursed is the ground for your sake. In toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life. In the sweat of your face you shall eat bread till you return to the ground.
So we see that man's work has been affected by the curse as a result of sin. Man's ability to eat and enjoy the fruit of his labor has been profoundly corrupted by the effects of the fall. But even still, God's creational purpose has not changed.
God's redemption of creation is toward this end. God has given man work to do, work to enjoy, and fruit to see as a result of that work. And so as we said, that Edenic calling has not changed. Our environment has changed.
Our nature, as a result of corruption, has changed. But God still upholds the Edenic calling, and that's the way redemption is working through our life under the sun. This is the path to wisdom and life and joy.
Grace restores nature. So once more we come to this acknowledgment. It's a repetition. Nothing is better. The king would remind you. Nothing is better. Just pause there for a moment. Are you living, even yet, like nothing is better than that?
We already had it about four weeks ago. Has it actually sunk into your life at all? Are you living like nothing is better than to enjoy the work that God has called you to? To be able to eat and drink from it?
To be able to enter into the rhythm of rest and season in your life? Are you living like nothing is better than that? No wonder he gives it to us six times. We need maybe 60 times for it to actually make a dent in the way that we live.
And so he repeats, and he says it with a strong affirmation. I know, I have found, and now I am convicted, nothing is better than that we, than that human beings, can rejoice. And notice that this experience of life as a gift, as a foreshadowing of what's to come in later chapters, is not something that's hoarded.
It's not, yes, I see that life is a gift, and I want more and more and more. No. Somehow, experiencing life as a gift has turned toward generosity. Nothing is better for them than to rejoice and to do good.
That's almost always a way of describing sharing good with others, being charitable or generous with others. That's certainly something that's coming in this book. So we find that the king now knows nothing is better than to enjoy what God has given, to share the good of God's gifts with others, and that one can eat and drink and enjoy the good of all his labor.
That all should include all the labor of all the seasons of his life, of all the times that God both gives and takes away. That in these seasons, whether they're seasons of blessing or seasons of trial, man finds a unique gift of God's purpose and God's blessing.
He recognizes in every season and in all labor, there's a gift to be found. There's a gift to be received. As Eric Ortland points out, this does not unlock life's mysteries or give us control over the seasons of our lives, but not even the echoing eternity in the human heart changes our creaturely position of needing to accept each day and its labors from the hand of God.
We do not sovereignly create or guide our own lives. We only receive. And I've said from the beginning, I don't like this scholarly phrase, carpe diem, that famous Latin phrase, seize the day. It's receive the day.
Accipe diem. Let's make a coffee mug out of that. Receive the day, not seize the day. Receive the day because it comes from God's hand. It's not for us to seize. It's not for us to obtain. It's not for us to control or manipulate or secure.
We receive it in the season it's given. We bless it when it's here. We appreciate it when it's gone. We recognize all these things correspond to the purpose and control of God. So that's the question.
How do you respond to God's gift? It's the second time we've encountered a statement like this. What practical difference has it made in your life? There's the song. Some of our children know it. Count your many blessings.
Count your many blessings. Count them one by one. Count your many blessings. See what God has done. There's a lot of wisdom in that second verse. Count your many blessings. See what God has done. It's not the blessings I have wrought, I have secured.
It's the work of God. It's what comes from the hand of God. And I'd go as far as to say you will not be counting your blessings one by one unless you're already understanding that they come from the hand of God.
This is what God has done. Look what God has given. You never appreciate things more than when they come undeserved. When you receive a gift, you know how different your response is than when you've worked for or earned something.
There's no response in the Christian's life that ought to level out at, pay me what I'm owed. That's just not the way that Christians are to respond to their experience of life. Life is a gift that comes from God's hand.
It's wholly undeserved. Thank you that I can eat. What do we do with our children? We teach them to be thankful. Usually we do that by reminding them how fortunate they are. You know, there's many other children in the world that don't have meals as frequently as you.
They don't have comfort and security like you do. They aren't surrounded with freedoms and loved ones like you are. You are more blessed than you could possibly understand. If that's true to the children that we try to reinforce that truth to, how much more true is it for us?
But we usually say it to our children and then go on without any thought about the experience of blessedness and gifts that we receive from God's hand. We want our children to count their blessings while we are not counting our own.
Because we think we're doing it. We're controlling it. We're seeking. We're obtaining. We're not counting what the Lord has done. You see the freedom of these statements. This is the grand wisdom and insight from the King.
I know that nothing is better than this. So again I ask, do you know that nothing is better than this? Do you live as if this were true? Is there a contentment and an appreciation that is like an umbrella over the changing seasons of your life?
Well part of this appreciation can be gauged just in how we view life. Do we view life? Do we view every day? Do we view the work that we've been given and what flows out of that work as a gift to be received from God?
I don't deserve any of it. It's all gift to me. It's all gain to be thankful for. Have we learned to be content in these ways? Have we learned to be joyful in these ways? We had an aunt that lived up in Maine.
She died from cancer. She was a fervent believer. I wonder sometimes if it's answers to her faithful prayers which she often recorded on tape cassettes that the Lord was pleased to do work in my family, in my parents' lives, in my young life.
She was a fervent believer and she knew she was dying. We were too young to understand that she was dying. So whenever we went up to visit her, she would make that time as special as she could. And she would do these little scavenger hunts with gifts everywhere.
All around her property in the most obtuse crevices there'd be some little gift, some little present, some little note or clue. We used to love, we'd burst out of the Ford Aerostar and go on this hunt and it would take up half the day.
And every little gift, every little note was so invigorating, so exciting. And I think of that. Every day is like that if we have eyes to see it. But so often there's these little gifts, these little presents and they're surrounding us at different turns and in different ways throughout the day.
And it would be like a child walking by, half of them, opening one, just throwing it to the side, never acknowledging it as a gift. Never seeing it for what it is. Do we experience life as a gift? Do we pause?
Do we appreciate? Does this turn over into devotion or worship in our hearts? Again, how do we respond to the work of God? How do we count the blessings that come from the work that He alone can do? This is the difference between seizing the day and receiving the day.
It's the difference between trying to muster or manufacture joy versus simply acknowledging the joy that there is to be had. We don't have to go seeking joy. We just have to receive it. We just have to see it for what it is, where it is.
And of course, joy has a central place in the life of a Christian. There's so much in the Gospels that pertain to the place of joy in the Christian's life that we are to find that rejoicing, not merely in eating and drinking and laboring, but to find the fullness of all of these things in redemption.
And all of those things come to their apex in the person and work of Christ. We'll spell this out as weeks and months go by. But these carpe diem statements, these accipe diem statements, they're going somewhere.
This creational impulse and eternity in our hearts, it's all going somewhere. We're to have a joy and a rejoicing that is tracing the rhythms and patterns and gifts of God that brings us to the ultimate source of it all.
That as seasons of life go by and as we mature in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ, we slowly turn from the gift to the giver. If this can be this good, what must He be like? If life is this wondrous, what must the life to come be like?
And soon our temporal gaze is brought to a gaze eternal. Soon these light beams that, as C .S. Lewis described, pierce through the dark sheds of our life, draw us back to that immortal source. We spoke about this last week as a joy that is set before us.
Jesus seeking a joy that could not be found in the distance between Bethlehem and Golgotha because He had a cross to bear. And the joy that was set before Him was on the other side of that cross indeed, on the other side of death.
This was a resurrection hope. And so it is for the Christian life. We enter into the joy of our Master. That's a day yet to come, and yet joys from our Master surround our lives daily. Brothers and sisters, do you see them?
Do you see them? I know that a lot of our experience of the full revelation of what God has done for and in and through our lives will be filled with regret and remorse. And I think so much of that remorse is not simply remorse over sin.
I think a lot of it is remorse over neglect. Lord, I was so thankless, so tunnel-visioned, so selfish and urgent and knee-jerk reactive to the little things in life. Please forgive me for not having open eyes and a soft heart.
You surrounded me with a thousand mercies every day of my life, and I spurned almost all of them in my toddler tantrum. Listen, when you're meeting someone on the street or the sidewalk, or you watch these videos where they're doing street evangelism and you have that sort of rough customer that comes up and he's got a gripe against God, so much pride is seething in that sinful heart that he thinks somehow he could go toe-to-toe against God.
Well, yeah, if there is a God and there is a judgment day, I'm actually looking forward to giving a piece of my mind. I know he won't be able to judge me. And we're almost aghast at that kind of attitude, such a small, distant view of God, such an inflated sense of self, this God-like selfishness.
And the first thing we almost want to do is just say, open your eyes. Whose air are you breathing? Whose food do you eat? Who's maintaining the very health of your body, giving you the grace to even blaspheme by upholding your life?
It's like, open your eyes. You have this gripe against God, but it's a toddler tantrum. You're missing everything that is surrounding you, calling you. It's the kindness of God to you that is leading you to repentance.
Is that not true for you and I, brothers and sisters? Christians all too often seek joy in the world, and then we just want to serve God out of duty. There has to be joy here somehow, greener grass somewhere, if I can just obtain or seize this, and along the way I better serve God because I know I'm supposed to, and so I'll go to church and I'll pay my vows and I'll try to do better.
We want our joy in the world, and we serve God out of duty. That's entirely opposite of how it's meant to be. We should be seeking God for joy and serving the world. It's the other way around. It's the heart of discontentment in our lives.
It's why Paul has to tell the Philippians, rejoice in the Lord. I say, again rejoice, and I'm going to keep saying rejoice because it's the one thing that Philippians tend not to do. It's the one thing that Hubbardstonites or Hubbardtonians or whatever it would be tend not to do.
We don't rejoice and again rejoice and again rejoice, but Ecclesiastes says there's nothing better than for us to rejoice. But you won't be rejoicing unless you see the things you ought to rejoice in.
Unless you have eyes to see the gift that comes from God's hands. And this gives you a strength to serve God. A strength to serve God in the most pressing seasons of life. But when your strength is dried up like a potsherd, you still bless His holy name.
That's not someone who's never experienced joy. That's someone who's had such a fullness of joy that there's still a residue even when it's drained almost to empty. That was George Mueller who had the souls of at any given time five or six thousand orphans on his shoulders in Bristol.
And he said in one of his letters, I saw more clearly than ever that the first and great primary business to which I attend every day was to have my soul rejoicing in the Lord. The first thing to be concerned about was not how much I might serve, but rather to get my soul in that joyful state that my inner life would be nourished.
Why is he doing that? So he would have strength to serve. We seek our joy in the Lord. We rejoice in the gifts that come from Him and it frees us to do good. It frees us to serve. It's the joy of seeing life through the lens of gift.
Seeing life through the lens of Gospel that frees us from selfishness and hatred of one another. Allows us to serve freely and fully. Do you want a test to know whether you're living life as a gift? Whether your eyes are open and your heart is soft?
You'll know it based on how you serve. Without joy in the Lord, without joy that comes from realizing that there's nothing better, service is always strength-zapping, unrewarding, monotonous. Something that you groan and grumble about and murmur against.
It's a test that you're not looking at things in the right way. That's not what I'm seeking. That's not what I want. I need to avoid it and get past it and put up with it because I'm actually hunting and looking for the joy somewhere else.
That means I have to focus more on myself and more on my circumstances and more on my season and more on others that are making it harder for me. You see what Mueller's saying? You see what the king in Jerusalem knows?
There's nothing better than to rejoice. It's a gift from God. It's a freedom to do good. There's a strength that comes with joy. That was the great insight of the temple builders under the direction of Nehemiah.
The joy of the Lord is your strength. Are you weak this morning? Joy is a profound part of the reason you're weak. Joy is something that is cultivated by the Spirit. What happens when you're reading the Gospel accounts or you're reading the book of Acts?
What happens when the Spirit descends and does that invisible work that the wind does and opens the eyes and warms the heart, removes the veil and lydia, causes the scales to fall from Paul's eyes? What happens?
Their life becomes flooded with joy. As Peter would say, joy inexpressible, full of glory. They go forth rejoicing. What happens with the Samaritan woman? She goes back with great joy. She can't help but burst to tell what this man has done.
When we have eyes to see what the Lord is doing, we count our blessings one by one. We serve in the strength that God supplies. We serve with joy. But as we've said all along, Ecclesiastes is such a profound wisdom book because it's never an either or.
It's always a both and. It's framed by the simultaneity of life. I think I butchered that. Simultaneity of life. The bothness of life. And that's the beauty of Christian joy. Christian joy is not the polar opposite to worldly sorrow, but rather Christian joy can even inhabit and flourish within worldly sorrow.
Sorrow is not actually taken away. Sorrow is from one degree of glory to the next transformed to joy. John 16, 20, You shall be sorrowful. No servants above the master. This is a man of sorrows and he's telling it like it is.
He's as frank and blunt and honest as the king. You will be sorrowful. In this world you will have trouble. But your sorrow will be turned to joy. Do you want your worldly trouble to be sanctified to you?
You need to recognize the source of your joy, the call of joy, the fact that their day is coming when they'll be every tear wiped from your face. Live for the joy that is yet to be revealed and recognize as you do so, your sorrows in this life will gradually turn to joy.
This is something that the king has found now. I'm actually able to enjoy. How ironic. By grasping and seizing and trying to control and create, I became more and more miserable. But when I opened my hands to receive what God had given, when I bowed and blessed His name and trusted by faith His purpose, I began to enjoy.
I began to have joy. I began to have strength. Rather than soaking in and seeking to pull everything toward me, I began to distribute and share and open up not only my hands but my life. Is this how we respond to God's gift?
When you get a good gift, you can't keep it to yourself. Over the years I've given away boxes of chocolates because one of the first horn tours to Europe, we went to Belgium, got to get a box of chocolate and found this incredible chocolatier and Costco every end of the year usually has boxes and I've given those boxes out.
When you get a box of chocolates, you don't keep it to yourself unless you're notoriously Scrooge-like. You've got to try this. You've got to have one. Please have one. You enjoy the fact. Isn't this good?
Isn't this great? I'm happy to share. I'm joyful to share. This was just a gift that I received. In some ways, that attitude, that response is meant to characterize our entire life as Christians. Who should know that life is a gift more than we who confess the Creator?
More than we who know the source of singing birds and lilies in the valley? Who know that there's a faithful and wise purpose in every thorn that's pressed into our side? Who should be more joyful than we?
Who should see life in every breath as a gift more than we? So that was the first point. How do we respond to what God gives? How do we respond to God's gift? Secondly, responding to what God does. This is verse 14.
I know, there's the repetition, I know that whatever God does, it shall be forever. Nothing can be added to it. Nothing can be taken from it. God does it so that men should fear before Him. Notice the repetition of God doing, God making.
I know that whatever God does will last forever. God does it so that men would have fear before Him. This is the great contrast from the first two chapters. It was all what the king was working, what the king was seeking, how the king was pursuing.
Here, in between these carpe diem statements, it's all about what God is doing, what God is seeking, what God is creating. I know that what God does will last forever. Nothing can be added to what God does.
Nothing can be taken from what God does. God does it, and He does it in this way so that men would have fear before Him. You see the great contrast between the first two chapters? The king was a go-getter.
He was a builder. He was a mover. He was a shaker. He created and established and sought. He pursued many things, more than anyone who had come before him had sought. And he recognizes now, my limitations, my vain, Hevel-like life, what is that compared to the eternality of my Maker who works like the Lord's work?
The work He does can't be found out. You can measure and weigh and survey. You can assess the state of my work over time. You can watch it crumble. But what God does endures forever. God's work is inscrutable and perfect.
No one can add to it. The king is almost confessing. Who's going to lay her on top of my gardens? I remember when Alicia and I were first married, we were looking for apartments to live in. And we went to this one apartment that was a few blocks away from where our parents live, and it was this gorgeous old Victorian house.
They had converted a carriage house in the back as an apartment, and the first floor they wanted to turn into an apartment. And it was gorgeous. It was like something out of Downton Abbey. And our hearts were fluttering as we walked in.
I was thinking of being like Carson the butler, you know. But as this woman who grew up in this home was showing us around, we realized how peculiar she was about the state of the home. She pointed out, like, you see this wallpaper here on the top?
Well, it's a little deteriorated, but we've actually, we hired a graphic design firm to redesign the elements that were missing, and then we had it printed and put onto a linen transfer. And so that's all original to what my mom had put there back in the 40s.
We're like, oof, okay. And she's like, it has to be white wicker if there's anything on the patio, and it can only be these colors. And we realized, this woman's trying to create a museum of her childhood, not rent an apartment.
There was this fear of who's going to tear down and lay her over? Who's going to wash away the things that I built? That's the king in Jerusalem. People can add to it. People can take it away. I don't like these hanging gardens.
I don't like these walls. I'm going to expand and change and alter. That's what happens to man's work under the sun. God's work isn't like that. Nothing is added to God's work. Nothing gets taken away from God's work.
Man's work is temporary. It's as fleeting as man's life, but God's work is forever. The works of God never decay, corrupt, or crumble. You see, the whole contrast now, in wisdom, the king has turned his eyes to the king of creation.
There's no king like that. No work like that. And that's the source of real joy in life under the sun. No one can frustrate God's work. Not only can you not change it, you can't find it out. As we saw in verse 11, it's hidden.
It's a mystery to us. This is something that in the Protestant tradition, generally speaking, we don't have enough place for. The mystery of God. The mystery of God. I appreciate what we do have compared to other traditions that lack the things we do have, but I would say we need to somehow restore the transcendence and devotional perception of God that comes from recognizing his mystery.
He himself is veiled. His purpose is veiled. His work is veiled. There's a mystery that accords to our faith. Unlike man's work, God is entirely free from frustration or limitation. He does whatever he pleases.
No king in Jerusalem can act like that. Elon Musk has profound limitations on his ability. Only God is entirely free from any hindrance, any limit, any frustration upon His work. And yet, He places limits and hindrances and frustrations upon His creatures under the sun.
Why? Verse 14 tells us the answer. Think of the poem of time. We cannot change what God does. We can't even fully understand it. We can't affect the seasons that God alone makes beautiful in their time.
We won't see them as beautiful in their time because we don't have all time before us as God does. He's time full. He's alpha and omega. And we've recognized He has a purpose in each season that's often veiled to us.
So why does He introduce limitations, frustrations, corruptions, temporality on our work and on our labor under the sun? Again, verse 14 tells us. So that we'll fear Him. I know that whatever God does, it will be forever.
It won't be like my work. It won't be like my breath under the sun. I can't add to it. I can't take away from it. No one can. Why does God do it like that? So that men would fear Him. This is a vital thread that will carry us to the very end of the book.
And it's the beginning here in chapter 3. In other words, God sets bounds and limits and frustrates and troubles man's work and man's time under the sun so that man can never seize and man can never settle.
So that that eternity in our hearts that makes us restless will actually carry us all the way through life and all of life's changing seasons until we find rest in Him. That is having a reverence of fear for God.
The idea is that the one who recognizes this will reverence the eternal God whose work is perfect, whose work is unknowable, and will live in a humble, appreciative faith and recognize every little thing as I receive it is to be enjoyed from His hand because I don't know what tomorrow will bring.
I don't know what gifts will be taken away or what thorns will be added. I can't know the work of God. I just know it's perfect. And it endures forever. And so I walk in fear of Him. I walk in fear of Him.
It's certainly not terror as we've said over the years. But reverence is almost hardly the term. God is a consuming fire. Jesus would say on the one hand, do not be afraid. Your Heavenly Father knows the things that you need.
Jesus often encourages His people, don't be afraid. But He also says, fear Him who can destroy both body and soul in hell. Reverence doesn't quite stretch far enough to hold that all together. It's an uncomfortable reverence even as it's a comfortable fear.
God is a consuming fire. We recognize how different He is than us. Who is like the Lord? And what are we to you? What are my days? What are my times? I'm just a breath. What's my life before you? The eternal, uncreated one.
So this fear is not something that causes us to cower. But it is a very humbling, a very sobering kind of fear. We're not frenzied with anxiety. And we're not manufacturing religious devotion to try to keep a buffer between us and the God that we fear.
This is actually something that brings us close to God. It's a reverence and a recognition that the Holy One is so lofty and high and above that He's nevertheless pleased to dwell with the meek and the lowly.
So we trust Him. We obey Him. This is the major discovery of the King up to this point. The reason that life is vanity is so that we would never secure and obtain life under the sun. The reason that life is vanity is so that this life would bring us to God.
That's the point. He imposes Hevel. He imposes vanity. He brings limitations and scarcity and decay on our work so that we're driven to Him. And to Him we must return. Everything in every season gets stripped away until as naked as we came into this world, we return to Him.
And dust returns to dust. If you've understood this insight coming under the roof of the receive life as a gift statement, you recognize this is a severe mercy of God. That's what it is. God troubles and frustrates and hollows out seasons of your life as a severe mercy so that every season of your life would bring you closer and closer to Him.
So that the forever He's placed within your heart may find its yes and amen in a joy that is set before you. How easy it would be if God did not frustrate or empty or put a thorn in the different seasons and labors of our life.
How easy it would be to marginalize God. To manipulate God. God, can you just get with my program? I had a good thing going and this is how it's supposed to work out. Don't you bless God who crumples that up like a piece of paper and says no.
It brings us away from His presence, from our hope and from our glory. It's a gracious intent. Even if it's difficult to bear. It's a goodness and kindness of God. Even if it's a heavy cross at times on our shoulder.
He's keeping us from settling and so destroying ourselves in the way that He's made us. And again, if we have eyes to see life as a gift, this too is a picture of God's mercy. This is the work that God does.
That's what He says here in verse 14. God does it. God did it. There's two ways a Christian says that. One way is the exuberant joy. Joy. Some prayer. Some need answered in a surprising way. And what's your reaction?
God did it! God did it! He did it! It's the joy. It's the rejoicing of faith in God. But there's another way Christians say God did it. When loss comes. When unexpected difficulty. When something is torn away.
And what do we say? God did it. He gives and He takes away. God does it. How do you respond to the work that God does? Both attitudes, though they couldn't be farther apart, they're actually responses of faith.
God has done it. Let Him do what is fit for Him. God has done it. That is a response of faith. That's not despair. That's not resignation to fate. That's faith. God did it. Let me humble myself before Him.
God has done it. He's seen fit to blast the gourd. God has done it. It was Job's faith triumphing when he confessed. God's done it. Blessed be His name. These weren't mine to seize. These weren't mine to own.
This wasn't what I deserved. It was a gift. I always held it in that way. Listen, you don't, as I said, you don't get there by adding joy on later on. You have that kind of faith triumphing because you had been full of joy in the Lord before.
How does Job begin? The book of Job begins in chapter 1 with him worshiping joyfully in the Lord. Every morning and evening he makes sacrifice and he blesses God for the gifts that he's received. Thank you, Lord.
You have blessed me abundantly beyond all my needs. You've ever been true and faithful to me. I don't deserve these things. And God takes them away. And you know what? His tune doesn't change. I already said I don't deserve these things.
So why would I stop worshiping? Why would I stop blessing? I already knew I didn't deserve them. I already viewed them as a gift. So why would I hold that against my God now? How dare I curse Him and die?
Too often in the Christian life, we say the right thing. I don't deserve it. It's a gift. Until that thing that's not deserved is taken and then we have our tantrum. I don't deserve this. I deserve more than this.
I want more. I need more than this. Do you see where this attitude is coming from? Eyes of faith look above and beyond and say, Lord, You're wise to strip me from these things and cause me to seek after You.
More humbly, more sorrowful, but Lord, by faith I know even this sorrow will be turned to joy. There's a work that You do that I can't know beginning to end. There's a work that will glorify You and so fulfill my life.
There's a joy in that work that is set before me. That is a picture of what the King has discovered. Again, how do you respond to what God does? I know that whatever God does, it will be forever. Nothing can be added.
Nothing can be taken. God does it. Do you fear Him? Do you walk reverently before Him? If you haven't read Ecclesiastes before, that's going to be the conclusion of the whole matter and that fear has effects as we'll see at the end of chapter 12.
But as we know for all of wisdom literature, this fear is the beginning of wisdom. No wonder this is such a profound answer. Now we understand the glory of Proverbs 1 -7 or Psalms 2 -11 or everywhere that the literature holds out that wisdom is actually origined in the fear of God.
Because it's recognizing that only God is God. Only God's work is sure. And therefore, in humility, I simply trust God and receive whatever He sees fit to give, blessing Him always for gifts undeserved and trials that are faithful.
Are you struggling with believing that the difficulty you're facing is designed to sanctify you? It's a variation of the same point. He's doing things in your life that will bring you closer to Him. I'm sure I've shared this before, but in case there's a soul that hasn't heard it, it's worth bearing again.
There was a missionary who was observing a ringmaker who was purging gold in order to fashion this ring. And she spent some time observing this man's work and he would turn up the heat until this gold began to bubble and then the dross would slowly rise to the top and she would skim away the dross and pour it out and let it cool and begin this whole process again.
And she watched this precious gold being plunged into the flame time after time again and she began to be confused because it seemed like the purity was about as good as it could be, but this experienced jeweler knew no, there's still more dross to consume.
There's still more refining fires to purge. And so at some point, she's watching all of this work and as all of this dross is finally consumed, she now watches this ring being polished. And as it's being polished and rubbed and all these wheels are going over, she's saying, well, now that's just perfection.
But it goes back to the polishing wheels, back under this faithful turning and rubbing and every time he pulls it out, he's looking intently at it and she's thinking, this is about as good as it gets and it goes back under the wheel.
And so she finally, Vex said, when do you know to stop? What are you looking for? And the jeweler said, until I can see my face in it clearly. And she recognized that that's a picture of sanctification of trial.
How long will God keep taking this precious gold and putting it under the polishing wheels until we reflect Him? Until we are made like Him? Until we are Christ-like? We want to be Christ-like, we have to be men and women of sorrow as well as men and women of rejoicing.
Men and women who lament in worship over what God takes, but rejoice with joy inexpressible over what God gives and what will never be taken away. This is what it means to walk in the fear of God. There's many aspects to fearing God and we'll, of course, have occasion to explore these.
The fear of the Lord really is the beginning of a wise walk in life and there's things that accompany that. Keeping His commandments, delighting in His Word, trusting in Him at all times of life, hoping in mercy, even when everyone else is hopeless around you, delighting in the company of His people.
As David said, my companions are those who fear You. I'm not looking for people that don't fear You to be my bosom friends. I want people that fear You and revere You, that hate evil and seek to do good.
We see the fear of God in the life of Joseph, that reverence that was true whether he was under Pharaoh as second-in-command over Egypt or in the very lowest pit of the dungeon. His reverence for God, whether he was seen by tens of thousands or by no human eyes, he had a fear of God.
That is a reverence for God. It's not performative Christianity. It's a consistency. It's a fear. It's a manner of life that's true whether you're before many or before none. And the life of the fool is described as one who walks with no fear of God in his eyes.
If there's no fear of God in his eyes, there's no hope, there's just the obsession to obtain and seize in this life and what comes this way, you're not going to be counting blessings. You don't notice the work that God does.
It's about your work, what you're doing and what you need and why other people are messing that all up for you, why things could have gone better if only this had happened and things will be better when this happens.
That's someone who has no fear of God in their eyes. Someone who doesn't know how to count blessings because they're not attentive to the work that God is doing. You want to receive life as a gift, you have to have your hands open.
You want to see every day as a gift, you need to have your heart soft. And the last bit, v. 15, responding to what God seeks, that which has already been and what is to be has already been. And God requires an account of what has passed.
This is a very difficult verse. If you have a different translation, you're probably very confused right now because the words here are very difficult to make out. Most likely, there's some sort of ambiguity there that's intentional.
Again, this is wisdom literature, this is high grammar, this is intricacy and parallelisms and I think sometimes the ambiguity or difficulty is actually intentional because at least the ancient interpretations, the Septuagint, as well as the Targums, the rabbinic writings, they all understand this verse to be speaking about those who are persecuted.
So they read it something like this, that which has already been and what is to be has already been and God pursues those that are driven away or those that are pursued. God pursues those that are pursued.
The idea is those that are persecuted, those that are treated unjustly, God is seeking them. God's going to pursue them and keep them. And they're reading that in line with the passage to come which begins to focus on injustice and oppression.
The Latin goes in a different direction and the King James in some ways follows after that. God requires that which is past. Or you have it in our version here, God requires an account of what is past.
Like he's the creator and all time is before him and by the way, he's going to call accounts at the end. And so you better recognize this wisdom of living life as a gift. That's certainly thematic to Ecclesiastes and the idea of accountability before God will return but other translations I think do a better job holding the ambiguity.
So I think rather than God requires an account, that's too much of an interpretation. The idea of seeking or pursuing is clearly at base value what the verb is saying. God pursues, God seeks. And the question is what does God seek?
What does God pursue? I'll give you some other translations here. God summons what is past or God seeks again what is passed away or God pursues what is passing by or God seeks what is driven away. You get the idea here.
The king has been pursuing and seeking and trying to secure, but he can't do it. He's bound by time and his life is a breath. God stands outside of time. God's work endures forever. So when God's pursuing something, when God's seeking something, He'll actually obtain.
Everything that man is striving for with eternity in the heart, but he can never obtain is actually the thing that God is bringing about. Man's trying to work to return to God's creational purpose because of sin and all the wrong ways.
God too has a purpose in redemption. He's seeking what is passing by. He's seeking what is driven out. And He will obtain it. And that's the idea. The king doesn't tell us what's being pursued, but rather puts the emphasis on the fact that God is pursuing.
I worked, I sought, I tried to obtain. I can't. God works. God seeks. God will obtain. That's the conclusion. David Gibson in his book favors this. And I think he says it well. He says, is it not a glory that one day God Himself will call back and seek out the parts of my life that I could not understand?
Broken relationships. Tragic interruptions. Unexpected joys. Relationships unresolved. Tensions and difficulties unexplained. And somehow all of that, though it's lost to me as a breath under the sun, it's not lost to God.
It's all before Him and will be retained. I'm trying to secure it. I'm trying to keep it. I can't, but God will. Nothing's lost to Him. I think that's exactly right. We can't hold on to the things that we pursue, but God will.
What do ancient peoples do with jars? If you read archaeological reports from time to time like I do, jars for us are something you buy at Hobby Lobby for decoration. Jars in antiquity were storage. So you bury them in the ground and they're full of all sorts of things.
What does God do with our tears? He stores them. Why would God store them? Who's He storing them for? Why is He jarring up my sorrow? Why? Because He has a purpose for it. One day He's going to open those jars and He's going to explain every drop.
He's going to show me the perfection of His work in high contrast to the foolishness and vanity of mine. And there will be a yes and amen for every fiber of the tapestry of His providence in my life. And that's the prelude to an eternity of worship and joy everlasting.
My favorite composer bar none. Some of you know me well enough to know Gustav Mahler, the great. And it was his second symphony. He was a Jewish man by birth, but I'm wholly convinced he had a conversion.
And was a devout believer in his second symphony, which was early. Late enough in life as a young man who had heart trouble that he knew he wouldn't live past his mid-fifties. And often found his heart struggling within his chest.
And had experienced loss earlier than he began this symphony, but not before it was done when he lost his daughter Anne-Marie. And so much of his life was struck with awe over the phenomenon of funerals.
And he remembered funeral songs that were sung even funeral songs that were sung by little Austrian children. And these little pieces he would deconstruct and put into his music. And so they're called Kindertotenlieder, children's funeral songs.
And he would employ these at different places in his symphony. Not just a glimpse of nostalgia, but almost like he's thinking and reflecting about the brevity of life, even wrestling with his own life.
And his magnum opus is his second symphony, which is titled The Resurrection. And he wrote the lyrics, which he struggled with for several years not knowing how to complete this symphony. And it wasn't until he went to a beloved friend's funeral who was a mentor in his life.
And at that funeral a poem was shared about the hope of the resurrection. And it hit him like a ton of bricks. I know how to finish my symphony now. And the last chorus that is sung before everything is broken out, it's known as a symphony of a thousand voices.
He wrote these lyrics to be sung. And you can see how autobiographical his struggle is. And this is the most Ecclesiastes-like reflection I think in all of classical repertoire. He says, believe, my heart believe, nothing will be lost to you.
And all that he's amassing and all the loved ones he's already seen, it's like, I'm losing everything and I'm going to lose it all sooner than most. And here's the confession. Nothing is lost. Everything is yours that you've desired.
Yours, what you've loved, what you've struggled for. You were not born in vain. You've not lived in vain. You've not struggled in vain. Isn't that Ecclesiastes? I saw all of life was in vain. I can't endure.
I can't preserve. I can't keep it. It's all lost. But he recognizes, no, wait. There's one who works as well. There's one who seeks as well. His work is perfect. Nothing can be added or taken from it.
Therefore, if he's seeking me, my work won't be lost. What I've sought, what I need, won't be lost. I haven't lived in vain. I haven't longed in vain. My eternity beating heart hasn't beat in vain. I haven't suffered and faced thorns in vain.
He goes on. What was created must perish. Of course I have to die. What has perished must rise again. And so he charges himself. Stop trembling. Prepare yourself to live. You're not dying. You're preparing for everlasting life.
Prepare yourself not to die. Prepare yourself to live. And then he turns against sorrow. Oh, sorrow. All penetrating. I've now been pulled away from you. Oh, death. All conquering. Now you are conquered.
Arise. Yes, I will arise from the dead. My heart, in an instant, what I have wrestled with will bear me to God. That's Ecclesiastes 3 .15 in a nutshell. The very things that I'm yearning for and struggling and don't want to lose but can't secure, these are the things that bring me to the Eternal One, to my Maker, to my Redeemer.
And I will arise and I will dwell in the land of the living. I will eat the fat and enjoy the milk and the honey. Indeed, my heart will be satisfied. Prepare to live. How do you respond to what God seeks?
I don't have to secure it. I couldn't if I tried. I don't have to obtain it. I couldn't if I tried. I don't need to find the good life, as we saw last week. We're always planning to be happy, which is why we're never happy.
We're always planning to be, but it never arrives. And then the answer is, today, open your eyes. It's a gift. Exope Deum. Receive it. Receive it every day. This is responding to what God seeks, to what God pursues.
I'm just a breath. I can't do it. He must do it. He is the one whose work is inscrutable. I can't know it. I just have to be meek and faithful before Him. I have to, like my Father in faith, Abraham, dwell in the corner of the land and live as if I were a tent.
I can't see this land being full. I can't see His promise being revealed. But He said it, and His Word is sure. His work is perfect. His yes is amen. How do you respond to what God seeks? Abraham, go.
I'm seeking to give you an inheritance. I'm seeking to give you a seed that will outnumber the stars of the heavens and the sand of the sea. How does Abraham die? Just a few drops of that promise taking form.
What does Jesus say in John 8? Abraham saw my day and rejoiced. He rejoiced because there was a joy set far beyond the land. Abraham by faith knew the joy to come wouldn't be found in Canaan. It would be found in Christ, in the fullness of Christ and the glory to come.
How do you respond to what God seeks? Jesus prays for you in this way. Father, my desire is that the joy I have in You would be in them and that that joy would be fulfilled. Can we not approximate every day something of that joy?
The man of sorrows did. The man on Golgotha crying out in agony did. Every day of his life he did more than George Mueller ever could dream to saturate his heart in the joy of his Father and the joy of an everlasting calling.
Are you doing that, brothers and sisters? How do you respond to the things that God is seeking? Each one turns aside. Each one to their own way. Haggai says, why is the seed still in the barn? You're seeking your own things.
No one seeks after my house. What does the psalmist say? I was glad when they told me, let's go to the house of the Lord. How many of you this morning were glad to come to the house of the Lord? That's going to tell you a lot about your heart and your joy and your ability to see life as a gift with a joy set before you.
Are you glad to be here? Is it a gift to be here? We think of our brothers and sisters in Iran or in North Korea or in Beijing or in Sudan. What joy to be with the people of God, to worship the true and living God.
They have joy. They respond to what the Lord seeks. So again, I ask the questions, how do you respond to God's gift? How do you respond to God's work? How do you respond to what God seeks? I know nothing is better for us than to rejoice, to do good in our lives, and that every one of us should eat and drink and enjoy the good of our labor.
This is the gift of God. And we know that whatever God does, it will be forever. Nothing gets added to it. Nothing gets taken away from it. Nothing is lost to us. God does this so that we will walk in fear.
Amen? Let's pray. Father, we thank you for your word. Lord, forgive me. My heart is far more callous than it ought to be. My eyes too dim to see the gifts that you surround me with. My mind too preoccupied.
My desires too carnal to lift my gaze consistently and often to your dwelling place and to the hope of glory. Lord, forgive me. Help me. Help my brothers and sisters, Lord. We would walk meekly and lowly with humility and contentment and even joy in the gifts that you give us every day.
In the gift of time, in the gift of place, in the gift of purpose, in the gift of relationship. Forgive us, Lord, for putting them to the side. For deep within our hearts, souring with discontentment, for having perhaps in our inner thoughts and inclinations worse toddler tantrums than any unbeliever we've met on the sidewalk.
Woe is us, Lord. We are a people of unclean lips. Give us a glimpse of You in Your glory. Give us a foretaste of that joy yet to come. Lift our hearts up to You. And let the ceiling panels and walls of this life and this world begin to drop away.
Let us not stare down at what the light points to as gift, but trace the beam back to You, the Giver. And as we gaze upon You to be made more like You, whether bearing crosses or eating and drinking the good, may it all glorify You, whose work alone is perfect and complete, whose work alone will satisfy us.
Do that work, we pray. In Jesus' name and for His sake. Amen.