Reflections with Andy - Ecclesiastes 3:16–4:8 – Cynicism and Beauty

Giving into cynicism is so easy. And even though we have moments of that, it cannot be our final place

In Ecclesiastes 3:16–4:8, the Teacher reaches perhaps his lowest point — wickedness in the place of justice, the tears of the oppressed with no one to comfort them, and the devastating conclusion that the never-born are better off than the living. The reflection uses this as an entry point into how to read Ecclesiastes responsibly: it is wisdom literature and poetry, not history, and building a theology out of isolated verses here would lead somewhere very dark very fast. But the deeper gift of this passage is that it gives us language for the times we genuinely feel this way — overwhelmed, cynical, unable to will ourselves to feel better. Toxic positivity doesn’t help anyone, and Scripture’s willingness to name the darkness honestly is one of its great gifts. The caution, though, is that we cannot stay there. Cynicism, left to take root, rots the soul. We cannot only tell the story of Good Friday — we have to tell Easter too. Name the darkness, give it to God, and then keep walking toward what is beautiful and true.

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Good morning! We’re pressing through Ecclesiastes today, and I do want to try to finish it before I take June off — so we may combine some sections toward the end to get there. Today we’re reading a long stretch: chapter 3, verse 16 through chapter 4, verse 8.

Before we read — a quick word about the writer. Most scholars think this is Solomon, based on the context and tone, though he never names himself. What I can tell you is that as someone who graduated in 1994 and spent a large portion of his teenage years riding the back roads of Pike and Lincoln counties with a cassette of Nevermind by Nirvana playing until it literally broke — and then moving on to Pearl Jam and Soundgarden — I recognize this voice. The author of Ecclesiastes would have fit in perfectly with the grunge movement. Cynical, heavy, asking all the hard questions, not satisfied with any of the answers. Flannel optional. Our guy is really feeling it today. Let’s read:

“Moreover I saw under the sun that in the place of justice, wickedness was there, and in the place of righteousness, wickedness was there as well. I said in my heart, God will judge the righteous and the wicked, for he has appointed a time for every matter and for every work. I said in my heart with regard to human beings that God is testing them to show that they are but animals. For the fate of humans and the fate of animals is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. They all have the same breath, and humans have no advantage over the animals; for all is vanity. All go to one place; all are from the dust, and all turn to dust again. Who knows whether the human spirit goes upward and the spirit of animals goes downward to the earth? So I saw that there is nothing better than that all should enjoy their work, for that is their lot; who can bring them to see what will be after them?

Again I saw all the oppressions that are practiced under the sun. Look, the tears of the oppressed — with no one to comfort them! On the side of their oppressors there was power — with no one to comfort them. And I thought the dead, who have already died, more fortunate than the living, who are still alive; but better than both is the one who has not yet been, and has not seen the evil deeds that are done under the sun.

Then I saw that all toil and all skill in work come from one person’s envy of another. This also is vanity and a chasing after wind. Fools fold their hands and consume their own flesh. Better is a handful with quiet than two handfuls with toil and a chasing after wind.

Again I saw vanity under the sun: the case of solitary individuals, without sons or brothers; yet there is no end to all their toil, and their eyes are never satisfied with riches. ‘For whom am I toiling,’ they ask, ‘and depriving myself of pleasure?’ This also is vanity and an unhappy business.”

Our guy needs to talk to somebody. I say that with full affection.

But I think passages like today’s — and honestly, all of Ecclesiastes — point to something really powerful about how we should approach Scripture. I had lunch with someone yesterday and I said: I take the Bible too seriously to take it all literally. What I mean by that is this: you have to understand the context of what you’re reading. What kind of literature is it? What is its purpose? Because if you just pull verses out of context, you can say some pretty alarming things. Take today’s passage — the fate of humans and the fate of animals is the same, they all go to one place, all turn to dust. Or: better than both the living and the dead is the one who has never been born. If you built your theology on those verses in isolation, you’d end up somewhere very dark very fast.

But Ecclesiastes isn’t a history book like First or Second Kings. It’s wisdom literature. It’s poetry. It’s a book that speaks to the deep longings and pains of the human heart — and it doesn’t always offer tidy answers. It just names what it feels like to be alive and searching and not finding what you’re looking for.

And I want to say something directly: there are times when we all feel exactly the way the Teacher feels right now. You look at the world — wickedness in the place of justice, oppression everywhere, the tears of those who have no one to comfort them — and you think, what does any of it matter? I have an Eeyore mug somewhere over here, and sometimes Eeyore is my spirit animal. Life is hard. You can’t just will yourself to feel better. Toxic positivity — the pressure to always be happy, always be grateful, always look on the bright side — doesn’t actually help anyone.

Ecclesiastes gives us language for the dark places. And that’s a gift. The Psalms do the same thing — psalms of grief and anger and abandonment sit right next to psalms of praise and joy, because the human experience contains all of it. Being able to name what you’re feeling — to say God, I see injustice and I don’t understand it, I’m overwhelmed and I don’t have answers — that is not faithlessness. That’s honesty. And you can’t receive healing for what you won’t name.

But here’s where I have to be equally honest: we cannot stay there. We cannot only tell the story of Good Friday. We have to tell Easter too.

Cynicism, if we let it take up permanent residence in our souls, will rot us. It will drain us of joy and hope until there’s nothing left. The Teacher has lost his hope right now — lost it somewhere in the exhaustion of trying everything and finding nothing. And we understand that. But Philippians 4 says whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable — think on these things. James says every good and perfect gift comes from the Father above. The Psalms praise the glory and power of God. The Transfiguration shows us Jesus in his glory. The empty tomb tells us death doesn’t win.

We need Ecclesiastes. We need language for the dark. But we also need the resurrection. We need Easter.

So today — if you’re in a dark place, if the cynicism has crept in, if you look at the world and can’t make sense of it — name it. Give it to God. But don’t stay there. Keep walking toward what is beautiful and good, because there is beauty and good, even now. Even here.

Tomorrow our guy actually has some good news. Looking forward to it. Have a great day!