The preacher in Ecclesiastes reminds readers that life under the sun does not happen according to neat and tidy rules. This biblical author asks us to see the world around us in all its messiness. He then explores what that reveals about humanity, our world, and our God. Rather than avoiding addressing deep questions of life, he answers with an affirmation of the universality of suffering and implications regarding the finiteness of earthly existence. This commentary explores Ecclesiastes as a meditation that engages people where they are, one that draws them to the God who enters their world and who works their redemption.
“His approach makes central his humanity rather than his faith, his creatureliness rather than his redemption. Ecclesiastes starts decidedly with the truth that all of us are in the world no matter who we are and that all of us have this one thing in common: we are human and as such we must commonly navigate the same God-governed and maddening world together. The Preacher speaks, not so much as a Jewish believer, then, but as a human being. He recovers a sense of our common humanity.” (Page 11)
“In other words, the best good in the madness under the sun is found when we recover some small resemblance to what we were made for in Eden. We remember that God’s gift to humanity has not quit, even though we have and the world now groans. We remember Adam and Eve’s season prior to their fall, and we learn again to long for that recovery while we are migrants here, worn out among the shanties.” (Page 15)
“The Wisdom Literature needs Ecclesiastes then, in order to keep us from entrusting ourselves to trite formulas under the sun. It is not that Proverbs ignores exceptions. It too makes plain that rules aren’t enough and that context matters for how we apply wisdom.” (Page 7)
“Consequently, whether we believe or not, as human beings we can access Ecclesiastes and hear our questions and our culture’s answers on the Preacher’s tongue. We feel our lament in his pain. We see our own tantrums in his frustrations. We touch our own longings as he cries out with his. The Preacher gives language to our ache, poetry for our dreams, and exclamation for our search. He resists anything trite, pretentious, sentimental, or dishonest. By this means, the God who inspired this text shows us his empathy and his profound understanding of our plight in all of its confusing, emotional, tragic, and maddening forms.” (Pages 12–13)