pleasure and toil

Solomon was supposed to be the wisest man on earth. If indeed he wrote Ecclesiastes, then he certainly had keen insight into the human condition.

He wrote one of the best descriptions of the spirit of this age in Ecclesiastes 2:10-11:
“I denied myself nothing my eyes desired;
I refused my heart no pleasure.
My heart took delight in all my labor,
and this was the reward for all my toil.
Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done
and what I had toiled to achieve,
everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind;
nothing was gained under the sun.”

A decade or more ago, Chuck Colson in his book “How Now Shall We Live” documented in case after case the unhappiness and hopelessness that was prevalent among celebrities and superstar athletes. He cites case after famous case of how pleasure, wealth and accomplishment produced despair and depression.

It becomes harder and harder to deny ourselves the things we want, and we continue to take pride in our promotions and big offices. In the end, though, we’re always left wondering, along with the author of Ecclesiastes, what’s the point? Is this all there is?

There’s one project that never fails to produce joy and satisfaction, that never feels meaningless. That’s my work on my own sanctification, my struggle to be more like Jesus. It’s not as self-centered as it sounds. In fact, it’s the only thing that pushes me to think of others, to love them like I love myself, and to serve them.

There are a lot of miserable people right now, and they seem always to spit and hiss like angry cats. When I’m tempted to join them, or to fight them, I try to remember this lesson from Ecclesiastes, that they’re trying all the things the Father of Lies tells them will make them happy. And they’re finding them all meaningless. Who can find joy that way?