God, the Bringer of Justice
“When all has been heard, the conclusion of the matter is this: fear God and keep his commands, because this is for all humanity. For God will bring every act to judgment, including every hidden thing, whether good or evil.” (Ecc 12:13–14, CSB)
Ecclesiastes is a beautiful book, one that is often overlooked or misunderstood. To some, it might reek of nihilism dressed in pious language. For others, the closing may sound like, “Man’s purpose is just to be born, do what he’s supposed to do, and die, so do what you’re supposed to do.” (I’ll confess this was the basic gist I had as a teenager.) For others still, it could even read like a distillation of what commonly gets called stoicism (rightly or otherwise). With that said, I think that a key phrase gets overlooked, one that I didn’t give much though to until reading Zack Eswine’s Recoverig Eden: the Gospel According to Ecclesiastes.
Two Key Concepts
“Under the sun,” occurs around 20 times in the book of Ecclesiastes, compared to the roughly 28 occurrences of futile and futility (or vanity, for those who prefer older translations). Few people wrestle with the idea of futility, or at the very least, they get where Solomon is coming from. It certainly would seem pointless to build a kingdom, for example, if you knew that, eventually, your descendants would squander every good decision you made. Other applications could be made, but immediately we see a twisting of what I think Solomon’s argument actually is. My main evidence for this, other than Ecclesiastes ending with an injunction to do what is good and right, is that Solomon still built a kingdom and a legacy, however dubious we may find aspects of it to be. If the main takeaway of the book were in fact, “You’re going to die anyway, so it really doesn’t matter,” it seems at odds with the way Solomon actually lived his life, wrongdoings aside.
Some might note this tension and take the more scholarly route of doubting that Solomon is in fact the author (though this is scarcely the only reason some scholars doubt it, though that’s not the point right now). Let me offer a counter-proposal: the notion of futility only makes sense in tandem with the language of life “under the sun.” If indeed all there is is what can be seen under the sun, then futility is all there is. However, Solomon knows this isn’t the case, which is why he can make his closing appeal in good faith.
Under the Sun and Beyond
If one looks under the sun, they’ll see pain, misery, and death, complete with what seem to be pointless struggles against all of that. They may conclude that it is indeed pointless to struggle or do anything difficult because it won’t matter anyway. If one directs their eyes beyond the sun, however, to the God of heaven, things suddenly look different. If indeed there is a God who does all that he pleases and is infinitely good and just, suddenly, things start to matter again. It makes sense for Solomon, and for us, to build a legacy, because we will answer to a God who sees all and judges rightly. It makes sense for us to pursue good, true, and beautiful things, not because we’re guaranteed to succeed, but because God sees our pursuits and has a plan for them. The God of Ecclesiastes 12 is the same God of Romans 8, who ensures that all things work together for good for those who love him and are called according to his purposes and as such, we can trust him to do what is right and use even failure and futility to draw us closer to him.
Even Today, This Rings True
Knowing that, indeed, the Lord, the judge of all the earth, will do what is right, (Gen 18:25; Deut 32:4) is a source of immense comfort, even today. Rather than despairing at injustice unanswered, even after our best efforts, we can say, “God will make this right.” We can look at God’s character and know he is just and look to the cross and see God’s commitment to justice and mercy. Rather than needing to respond to every slight, we can let our jaw loosen and know that we don’t have to win every fight right now. Perhaps more pointedly, however, the reality of God’s justice incentivizes our own pursuit of the same, not on the terms the world might find acceptable, but rather by the standards that God sets. We can pursue justice not because we have the power in and of ourselves to make the world right, but rather because we serve a just God who will make our pursuits worthwhile after everyone looks beyond the sun. So take heart, dear reader. Even the small things you do today matter and our success is guaranteed, not because of our skill and acuity but because our God will do what is good and right.