You Were Made for More

Introduction

Last Thursday, the seniors at the school experienced their last official day. I only had one class that day, and there were presentations to be done. When the bell rang, I had three students. About fifteen minutes later, I had more students than I was supposed to, and I didn’t even know some of their names.

We got our classwork done in short order, and so we went out to the football field to play some kickball—and by we, I mean we; I played too. I learned two life lessons Thursday:

1. Age is only a number is a lie,

2. If “you’re only as old as you feel,” then I’m feeling pretty old.

I somehow just about injured the entire left side of my body on Thursday. But, my team won; and even though I’m sure I looked like an idiot, it was a great time while it lasted.

Solomon seems to understand better what I tend to forget every time I get a chance to play some sport: there comes a time when you can’t do what you used to do, even if you want to do it. Therefore, he continues on with his advice to the young, telling them to enjoy this time while they can, but to remember that they were made for more.

The ESV and most other translations have this segmented into two pericopes—sections of Scripture, but I believe that there is one main message that has two pertinent points. Mainly, as young people, you need to use your vigor and vitality to glorify God and enjoy him forever. And he gives two reasons why he is singling out young people: Firstly, giving God your leftovers is wasteful. Secondly, giving this world your best is exhausting.

Giving God Your Leftovers is Wasteful

Giving the World Your Best is Exhausting

Giving God Your Leftovers is Wasteful

I remember when I was in seminary reading a commentary in which the writer made the comments that, at times, it appears that Solomon wrote The Song of Solomon as a young man and Proverbs as an old man, and Ecclesiastes as a curmudgeony, middle-aged man going through a midlife crisis. And it can seem that way as we’ve been reading it, if we’re not reading carefully. But as we’ve been studying this book these last four months, we’ve seen that Solomon lived part of his life “under the sun,” looking for worldly wisdom and acting in worldly ways, to see if there was any value in that kind of life. And what he found was that there was none. The book has been progressing to this point in which he tells his audience, “Don’t waste your life; you were made for more! Giving God your leftovers is wasteful.”

That’s the theme of the first eight verses of Ecclesiastes 12. We won’t read all of them, but we’ll review them. For now, let’s just look at verse 1:

Ecclesiastes 12:1 ESV

Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, “I have no pleasure in them”;

The next few verses have Solomon giving metaphor after metaphor describing those evil days that are coming.

When he writes about the sun, moon, and stars that darken, he is referring to the loss of sight. The world is not as bright and beautiful as it once was. The eyes grow cloudy. In verse three, he talks about those that look through the window being dimmed. The eyes don’t sparkle like they used to.

The hands tremble, the back is bent over and weak, the teeth are brittle or gone so that chewing food is a chore. The ears close like doors, keeping the sounds out, and yet a bird’s song can wake one up so they cannot fall back asleep, long before dawn ever comes.

The hair turns white, heights are scary—even being on a stepstool because of the unsteadiness of the legs, and even the lightest load—a grasshopper—can feel heavy. The desire to do anything is gone. One just wants to wait for death to come—a silver cord is cut, a golden bowl broken, a pitcher shattered, a cistern (like a well) without a wheel to bring up the water. Today we’d say, a bucket is kicked, a farm is bought, the dust bitten, and daisy pushed up.

Reading these metaphors and idioms all in a row can make us lose track of Solomon’s point: don’t wait to glorify God. Giving God your leftovers is wasteful.

It’s not that you can’t glorify God in old age; of course you can. But Solomon’s point is that you do not have the physical abilities now that you once had when you were young.

Think about the opposites of all that Solomon just laid out: you can still read Times New Roman 12 font without bifocals, you can hold a glass filled to the brim and not worry about spilling it, you roll your eyes when we old people say, lift with your legs not with your back, you can go to concerts without earplugs—though you shouldn’t.

You can jump the stairs two or three at a time and never give it a second thought. You bring in twenty grocery bags at once—nothing is too heavy for you! You’ve got dreams and passions and desire to do something with meaning and purpose! You’re whole life is ahead of you—no bucket or farm in sight.

So here’s the question: What are you going to do with the strongest years that you will ever have? Have you thought about God’s kingdom at all? Are you remembering “also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, ‘I have no pleasure in them’”?

I’m not saying you have to give up your jobs and move to some foreign land to be a missionary—though God may be calling you to that. I’m not saying you have to become a preacher or evangelist—though God may be calling you to do that. What I am saying is forgetting your Creator—forgetting about his kingdom—is foolish. Putting off until retirement what you can do today is wasting the very years that God has blessed you with to make an impact for him.

Malachi rebukes the priests of his days because they offer him sacrifices of old, blind, sick, or lame animals. In other words, they keep the best, and give him what they don’t want. Whether or not they intended it that way, the results are the same.

God doesn’t want what’s left over. He demands what’s first.

You have the opportunity to find pleasure in your days now—before the evils of old age takes that pleasure from you. Old age tends to sneak up on people. One day you’re running around without a care in the world, the next day a simple game of kickball leaves you limping for three days.

Young people, don’t waste your youth; plan to give God what is best, not what is left.

Ecclesiastes 12:8 ESV

Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity.

Vapor of vapors; it’s all a vapor. Your time and abilities will be gone before you know it.

Giving the World Your Best is Exhausting

But it isn’t simply that giving God your leftovers is wasteful, Solomon also wants to impart the wisdom that giving the world your best is exhausting. Again, he’s not some middle-aged malcontent; he’s explored the world for what it is and is a realist.

Ecclesiastes 12:9–12 ESV

Besides being wise, the Preacher also taught the people knowledge, weighing and studying and arranging many proverbs with great care. The Preacher sought to find words of delight, and uprightly he wrote words of truth. The words of the wise are like goads, and like nails firmly fixed are the collected sayings; they are given by one Shepherd. My son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.

Solomon wrote what he has written in order to impart the wisdom of God, our one Shepherd. We are his flock and he cares enough for us that in his providence, Solomon searched the world over for wisdom, finding it empty, and so warns us against doing the same.

In our study of Ecclesiastes we have seen where worldly wisdom—the modern philosophies of people like Oscar Wilde who made pleasure his highest good, Albert Camus who believed there was no ultimate purpose in life at all, and Karl Marx who taught that life is no more than a struggle, and so many more, but Solomon says, they’re all worthless.

The world will always have its philosophers tempting us to follow: “Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.” Giving your time over to the study of this world’s ways, wisdom, and words is wearisome. He isn’t decrying learning, but he is saying that spending all your time on the study of our culture is tiring. In other words, giving your best years to to living by what this world considers wisdom will tear you down and leave you empty and exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

The world’s wisdom promises so much and delivers nothing.

Colossians 2:20–23 ESV

If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits [principles] of the world, why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations— “Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch” (referring to things that all perish as they are used)—according to human precepts and teachings? These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.

If the philosophies “under the sun” are worthless and exhausting, that leaves only one place to look: “above the sun.”

Ecclesiastes 12:13–14 ESV

The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.

At the end of the day, after every philosophy has been studied and lived, Solomon came to the conclusion that life is ultimately about fearing God and keeping his commandments—that’s what you were made for. That’s similar to what the Westminster divines understood about life: Glorify God and enjoy him forever.

God is worthy of our fear and our praise. We look on him as Lucy learns to from Mr. Beaver in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

When Lucy asked if Aslan the lion was safe, Mr. Beaver responded with, “Safe? Who said anything about being safe? ’Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you!” Lions aren’t safe toward those who are its enemies, but to its own cubs—though it be large and majestic—it is compassionate and protective.

So we fear God, we do as he commands and not as the world advises. That’s what we were made for. In our brokenness, our sin and wandering hearts, we have forgotten our purpose in life. We were made for more than existing, more than mere pleasures, more than work. We were made for our Creator.

And young people, especially, you have the opportunity to spend the rest of your days remembering that God made you for more than what the world would have you believe. You were made for more than what you have accepted as your lot in life. And you have a choice: to drift along in this world as you have been or to surrender your life as Paul would call you to do: presenting yourselves as living sacrifices, not conformed to this world, but transformed by the renewing of your mind. Solomon would say “yes and amen!”

But there is no giving your life as a living sacrifice, without Christ first having given his life as our true sacrifice. It is by his willing sacrifice of his own life that we face God, not as enemies of a great and majestic king, but as children receiving compassion and protection.

You do not live this kind of life—as a living sacrifice—on your own, but you are enlivened and empowered to it by the Spirit of Christ at work within you.

Conclusion

As we finish out the book of Ecclesiastes, we end as Solomon did, understanding that we were made for more and that giving your leftovers to God is wasteful, and giving your best to the world is exhausting. But living this life in the fear of the Lord and for the glory of God is the only way to find your purpose and lasting rest. That isn’t to say that everything will always go well, but that our Good King is with us always.

While most of this sermon has been geared toward the young, I want to assure you older adults that though you may not have as much time or energy or strength that you had in your youth, you still have time to offer your life and service to the Lord. It is never too late even if you feel too limited.

Ask God what he would have you do and then do it.