Serving the High Plains
Serving the High Plains
In the Bible-reading plan I’ve designed for myself, I come to the book of Ecclesiastes about twice a year; and every time I read it, I end up thinking, “I should read this more often.”
As a brand-new believer in my 20, all those decades ago, Ecclesiastes was confusing to me and even a little depressing. Now, it’s a welcomed friend who continues, somehow, to keep reminding me of the things I’ve managed to forget since I last read it.
Young men, as designed by God, should be filled with fire, eager to conquer the world and unsatisfied until it’s done.
That was me, excited about living for God and looking for the next spiritual battle to wade into.
When that mostly foolish youngster stumbled across Ecclesiastes in his reading, it set him back on his heels a bit. He was ready to grab lions by the beard like King David, but here’s Solomon telling him that the best he can really hope for in this life is to eat, drink, and enjoy the fruits of his labor with a family at peace.
The quest for riches and glory was empty. New adventures in pleasure were vain as well. Even striving too hard to be righteous was cautioned against.
I was like the hobbit, Frodo, foolishly pining away for excitement and the thrill of exploration. Ecclesiastes was like the wizened old Gandalf, peering at me from underneath bushy eyebrows. Do not be so eager, it would say (while knowing I’d ignore it) to discard tranquility and quiet as if they were not great friends. You will find yourself missing them soon enough and longing for home again.
King Solomon, the preacher of Ecclesiastes, made the same point in Psalm 127. You have to understand, he had it all: wealth, wisdom, women, and a litany of accomplishments that made his name known across the world. He was the prototypical alpha male.
He wrote, “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain. It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep.”
We’re in a weird moment culturally, where the only two options seem to be entitlement-driven slothfulness, and soul-crushing toil that barely keeps your nose above water.
Solomon knew there was a third way, a better way.
Generations later, his heir, Jesus of Nazareth, would echo and expand on this thought.
“Consider the lilies,” he said. God clothes them, more richly than Solomon could clothe himself. Remember the birds who don’t punch in on a time clock, but God feeds them. If your heavenly father does this for them, how will he not take care of you? He knows what you need. You go on pouring out your life for the sake of food and clothing.
Does this make sense? I have it on good authority that all of the men who ever devoted themselves to making all the money in the world, died short of their goal and took none of it with them. Even if they had succeeded, Jesus would ask what it profited them, to gain the whole world and lose their souls. Seek first the kingdom and its righteousness, friends.
Gordan Runyan is pastor of Tucumcari’s Immanuel Baptist Church and author of “Radical Moses: The Amazing Civil Freedom Built into Ancient Israel.” Contact him at: