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What difference does anything in this life make if we’re all just going to die? Is there really any meaning to life? These are the questions Ecclesiastes asks, but they are also the questions that in the end Ecclesiastes finally does answer. So does that meaning exist, and if so, where do we find it? Watch this sermon as we examine the fear of the Lord as the joy-filled, life-changing sense of awe that provides meaning and fullness of life.

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    Today we will conclude our series based on the book of Ecclesiastes. This is a fascinating book that has sparked a lot of conversation among us, and for good reason. The preacher of Ecclesiastes — or as I prefer to call him, the professor — easily could have been one of our contemporaries. Ecclesiastes is perhaps the most modern, maybe the most post-modern book in the whole Bible because the professor dares to ask the big questions that many of us might be afraid to speak out loud for fear that these words might come across as being too irreverent or irreligious. But the professor shows us that God not only allows but welcomes our challenging questions.

    Just think: The professor has engaged in a quest to see if there is any meaning to anything in spite of the seeming pointlessness of it all, and rather than air-brushing out these questions, his deeply searching questions are included in the Bible as holy Scripture. What does that tell us about God? Well, as one commentator put it, it shows us that God has a chest big enough for us to beat on, and he's got shoulders big enough for us to cry on. God is not intimidated by our doubts or by our fears. He welcomes them. He can handle them all and then some. So no matter where you are in life, no matter what you might be experiencing this morning, you can come to him.

    So today I'd like us to turn to the conclusion to the book, and as we focus on Ecclesiastes 12, I'd like us to consider just two things: 1) the ultimate question and 2) the one and only answer.

    8Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity.

    9Besides being wise, the Preacher also taught the people knowledge, weighing and studying and arranging many proverbs with great care. 10The Preacher sought to find words of delight, and uprightly he wrote words of truth.

    11The words of the wise are like goads, and like nails firmly fixed are the collected sayings; they are given by one Shepherd. 12My son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.

    13The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. 14For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.

    Ecclesiastes 12:8-14

    The Ultimate Question

    First, the ultimate question. At the end of the book, the narrator repeats the professor's opening phrase, “Vanity of vanities … all is vanity,” or “meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless.” Now at first glance, it seems as if the professor is suggesting that life really is completely meaningless. But as we've seen, the Hebrew word that is used here — that’s sometimes translated as “vanity” or “meaningless” — is actually quite nuanced. It literally means mist or vapor. Life is ephemeral and fleeting, like a wisp of smoke or a puff of breath. On a cold morning like this, we might be able to see our breath in front of us, but as soon as we reach out our hand to grab it, it's gone. And life is a lot like that; we can't quite get our arms wrapped around it, and that's why a perhaps better translation of that Hebrew word is not that life is completely meaningless, but rather that life is a baffling enigma. There's so much that we just don't understand. Life just doesn't make a whole lot of sense sometimes, and that's especially true when it comes to the reality of suffering and the inevitability of death.

    So the professor is posing the ultimate question. It's the same one that Leo Tolstoy asked, which we recalled a number of weeks ago. Tolstoy asked, “Is there any meaning in my life that will not be annihilated by the inevitability of my death that awaits me?” In light of our mortality, we all try to create some kind of meaning for ourselves by throwing ourselves into various projects that all at least seem to have some point. We enjoy our relationships with those who are closest to us. We might cultivate our gifts or our abilities. Or we might commit ourselves to some cause, like the pursuit of wisdom or the pursuit of justice. But if we ever stop to ask ourselves what is the meaning of it all, sometimes we struggle to find an answer. We realize that if death brings an end to absolutely everything, then everything we do now is a little bit like building sandcastles on the seashore, because everything we have ever done and everyone we have ever loved eventually is going to be washed away by the waves of time.

    So the professor dares to ask the question: What difference does any of it really make if the same event happens to us all? What difference does any of it make if eventually we're all going to die? And yet, by posing this ultimate question, his goal is not to drive us to despair but rather to point us to the only source of hope.

    So here at the end of Ecclesiastes chapter 12, the narrator looks back on all that the professor has said in verses 9 and 10, and he approves of his teaching. He affirms the way in which the professor has applied himself to the task. The professor weighed, and he studied, and he carefully arranged his sayings. He worked hard to find all the right words. And in the final analysis, the narrator says, the professor got it right. He spoke the truth, and he imparted knowledge, real knowledge, to people. But now, before moving on, in verses 11 and 12, the narrator offers a: 1) word of encouragement and 2) word of warning.

    Word of Encouragement

    See, first he offers a word of encouragement using these two images: first the image of a goad and then the image of nails.

    Goad

    First, he says that the words of the wise are like goads. Well, what's a goad? A Goad was a wooden stick with a sharp point, and it was used by a herdsman or a shepherd. A Goad was used to prick, to prod, to push in order to steer, direct, and guide cattle and oxen in the way that they were supposed to go. And so the narrator is telling us that that's what the professor has done with his searching questions. He's goaded us — and that's exactly right. He's pushed us, he's pricked us, he's prodded us to ask the real questions, and he refuses to accept the superficial answers, the trite responses that we often give. Through his goading questions, he's deliberately been trying to polarize us. He's been eliminating all the superficial answers so that we're really left with just two: Either life is completely meaningless, or life has to be shot through with purpose. It's one or the other. There's no in between. You can't stay in the mushy middle. He's goaded us with his questions.

    Nails

    But then secondly, the narrator encourages us by telling us that these words of wisdom are like nails firmly fixed. You could think of those long iron spikes that are drilled into telephone poles. They provide a handhold, a foothold so that you can climb up. And that is what these words of wisdom are like. We can count on them. We can depend upon them. They give us a foothold in order to understand the truth.

    And so what the narrator tells us is that even though this truth sometimes hurts, it's the truth that we need to hear, because these are the words of the one shepherd. Even though these questions seem so irreverent or irreligious, these are the words of the one shepherd, meaning, these are the words that God has given us — the one who knows us and the one who loves us.

    Word of Warning

    But alongside this word of encouragement, the narrator also offers this word of warning: Beware of anything beyond these words. He's telling us that what we have in the Scriptures is sufficient for life's questions. We don't need to go looking beyond them. And see, the narrator knows that we might delay making up our minds, coming to some settled solution as to how we should think about these things. We might think to ourselves that we're not ready, that we need more time. We need more time to think or to read or to study. But the narrator tells us to stop making excuses. Of making books, there is no end, he says, and much study is a weariness. So don't hide behind that excuse. That's just a smokescreen. He says, you've got everything you need to know now. Now you have to make up your mind, and you better make up your mind now, while you still can, before it's too late.

    The One and Only Answer

    So the professor poses the ultimate question: How can I find meaning in my life despite the inevitability of death? There's only one answer, and it comes in verse 13. “The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God….” That's the answer. Fear God. Now you might say, what? That's a little weird. Why does he end the book like that? Of all the things to say, why does he say “Fear God?” Well, this is the answer, and let me show you why. Because fearing God — the fear of the Lord — is the key. The fear of God is the key to: 1) knowing God, 2) knowing yourself, and 3) knowing life.

    Knowing God

    See, first of all, it's the key to knowing God Himself, really. Now this expression “fearing God” or “the fear of the Lord” appears countless times throughout the Scriptures, and basically it's a shorthand way of referring to a believer. A believer is someone who fears God. But at first glance, it might seem as if the Bible is suggesting that we're supposed to be scared of God. What does it mean to fear the Lord? Does it mean you're supposed to be very, very afraid of the Lord? No. The fear of the Lord is not a phobia, like being afraid of snakes or spiders. And the fear of the Lord is not terror. It's not like being terror-stricken in the midst of a nightmare. No, the fear of the Lord is a joy-filled, life-changing sense of awe in light of who God is and what he's done.

    Let me give you an example. Deuteronomy 10:12 says, “What does the Lord your God require of you, but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, to love Him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul.” Now notice Deuteronomy doesn't say either fear God or love God. It's not an either/or choice. You're not supposed to choose between fear or love, because the two go together. In fact, the more you love God, the more you will fear Him. The more you fear Him, the more you will love him. They're involved with one another.

    Here's another example. In Psalm 130:3-4, the Psalmist asks, “If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared.” With you, there is forgiveness that you may be feared. Now that's a strange verse. If the fear of the Lord means to be scared of God, then we would assume that the more forgiveness we receive from God, the less scared we'd be. But the psalmist says the opposite. Because God is a God of forgiveness, we're called to fear him. So what he's showing us is that fear enhances our love of God. Fear is enhanced by love. The more that God lavishes his forgiveness, the more that God lavishes his love upon you, the more you fear him. You see that? Fear is this joy-filled, life-changing sense of awe in light of who God is and what he's done.

    Now there's a sense in which you might have such a holy reverence for God that you wouldn't want to do anything to displease him. Or like a parent or a teacher or a boss, you might have so much respect for God that you wouldn't want to do anything to dishonor him. But at its essence, the fear of the Lord is love. The fear of the Lord is based on love. And that is why it’s the key to knowing God.

    So you could think about it like this. Let me give you this analogy. What would you do if you wanted to try to figure out what really makes a person tick — if you really wanted to figure out the mainspring of all of their actions, how they're wired, what their heart is really seeking? What would you do? How would you find out? How would you find out where that person is looking for significance or for security, to know who they are or to be assured that they count? Well, the psychologist would say, if you want to know what's really driving a person's heart, figure out their greatest fear. Find out what it is that they're most afraid of losing.

    So here's an example. If you're a people-pleaser, what you most want is the acceptance and approval of other people, because that's what gives you significance and security. That's how you know who you are. That's how you know that you matter. And you might even be willing to be humiliated as long as people will accept you, because your greatest fear is rejection. But another person, by contrast, what's really driving their heart is a desire to be seen as being smart or capable, and that person is most desperate for respect. And that person wouldn't ever allow themselves to be humiliated, because that person's greatest fear is not rejection but embarrassment — being shown up to be stupid or a fraud.

    So you see, whatever it is that we most fear, whatever it is that we're afraid of losing, that thing reveals the center of our heart. And therefore to fear God means that you have so come to love God, to enjoy God, to appreciate God, to delight in God, that God is the one thing that you couldn't stand losing. God becomes the thing that you are most afraid of losing. You can't live without him.

    Now look, it's possible to believe in God intellectually, assent to his existence, and even follow his rules and yet not know him personally. But it's only when God becomes your fear — the thing that you couldn't live without, the thing that you would greatest fear losing — it's only then that God becomes real to you. Now you don't just know about God; now you know God. Now God has moved from being merely a concept to being a person. So the fear of God is the key. It's the key to knowing God.

    Knowing Yourself

    But not only that, it's the key to knowing yourself. The narrator goes on in verse 13: “Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.” But this actually has nothing to do with duty. The narrator is not talking about your duty; the narrator is talking about your identity. Because the word “duty” doesn't even appear in the Hebrew. That's an insert into our English translations. Literally what it says is, “Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole of man.” If you want to know what it means to be a human being, if you want to know what it means to be fully alive, this is it: to fear God, to know God, to love God, and to keep his commands. This is what it's all about.

    You see, when you make God your greatest fear, your greatest love, the supreme passion of your life, then he becomes not only the love of your life but the core of your identity. Now, finally, for the first time, you know who you really are. Now, finally, for the first time, you know why you're here. Now, finally, for the first time, you know what you're supposed to do. You know who you are in relationship to him. He becomes the animating force of your life. He unlocks your true personality, and the reason why you keep his commandments is because now that you know God for who he really is, you trust him.

    You trust him implicitly, unconditionally, because you know that he knows how life works best. He's the designer. He's the one that made you. He's the one that loves you. You trust him completely, and you know that no matter what he asks you, it is going to be infinitely good, it's going to be supremely wise, it's going to be perfectly right, and therefore you'll do whatever he says. You'll follow him wherever he leads, because you know that he's good. And the motivation then behind all of your thoughts, all of your words, all of your actions is not duty but delight. The reason why you want to love him, serve him, please him, obey him is not because you have to,but because you want to. And when you understand this, it will change your life.

    And that's what happened to Mary. Some of you may know that Mary di Carlo Andronaco died this past Tuesday, and we will be holding a service for her here in the sanctuary on Thursday at 4:30. But let me tell you a little bit about Mary. Mary joined the Sisters of Charity in Halifax, Nova Scotia, when she was 17 years old. She became a nun. And she taught elementary education for 15 years as a nun until she was released from her religious vows, and from there she began teaching at the Dalton school. For 49 years she was a beloved teacher within their First Program, but around 2015 she started struggling with questions. She'd been a lifelong Catholic. She'd received Catholic education from kindergarten through college. She was a nun. But now she had doubts, and she was asking searching questions because she felt like something was missing — something vital, something necessary, but she didn't know what it was. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. And then she had a conversation with a friend named Anne who invited her to come to Central to hear the gospel. But she said, I can't do that. I'm a Catholic. I've never been to a Protestant church in my life. But Anne insisted, and Mary eventually relented, and she would later say that it was the greatest concession that she ever made, because in her own words, she came to Central and she heard the gospel of grace for the very first time, and it changed her forever.

    From that day until last Sunday, she never missed a Sunday, except in the case of poor health or extreme weather. But I'll never forget when she asked to meet with me for the very first time, 10 years ago. She explained that she had been brought up in a meritorious system when it came to one's relationship with God, and so she wanted me to explain to her grace. So this was an oversimplification, but I wrote out for her three little equations that could sum up the Catholic distortion of the gospel on the one hand, the Protestant distortion of the gospel on the other, and the true gospel of grace. So I put it like this.

    I said, on the one hand, you could write “faith + good works = salvation,” but that's a distortion of the gospel, because that suggests that that faith, simple trust in Jesus, is not enough — that the life, the death, the resurrection of Jesus, the finished work of Jesus, is not enough for our salvation, that we need to add to that. We need to contribute to that with our good works in order for God to love us and accept us. I said, that's a distortion.

    And then I showed her this other equation: “faith = salvation, with no mention of works at all.” And I said, that's the Protestant distortion of the gospel, because that would suggest that our good works never come into play, and therefore it really doesn't matter how we live our lives. But that's not right either.

    But the true gospel of grace is “faith = salvation, which leads to good works.” See, we're saved by faith alone. Faith is simply empty hands that receive what God gives, and what God gives us is himself. And there's nothing that we could add to Jesus’ finished work on the cross. It's all-sufficient for our salvation. So we're saved by faith alone, but true faith is never alone. It's always accompanied by good works. It always results in a changed life.

    After that meeting, Mary wrote me an email, and she said that she found those equations to be exquisitely helpful, and she said that she would spend the rest of her life reflecting on grace. And she did.

    A couple years after that, in 2018, she shared her testimony here on Easter Sunday, and this is part of what she said. She said,

    My friend Anne brought me to Central, and I heard the gospel for the first time. I was in a Protestant church hearing things like this, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” I kept listening to the sermons. Grace is not something we earn. Grace is a gift from God to us, to you. I marveled to myself, “Grace: a gift of God to me.” I was being enveloped in the love of God. The God of the universe was speaking to me through this church, this gospel, this ministry. A deep peace and joy settled over me, and it has never left. I love this church. I have found the gospel breathtaking and powerfully transforming. It has changed my life. I need nothing else. I found this something missing: the message of the Bible, the Word of God, the gospel of grace.

    Mary experienced the fear of God: a joy-filled, life-changing sense of awe in light of who God is and what he's done for us by sheer grace. She marveled that God could envelop her in his love. And so he does. And that joy never left her.

    Grace changes everything. It changes how we keep his commands. Do you realize that Mary always kept God's commands; she was a nun, after all. But after experiencing the gospel of grace, she kept God's commands for a completely different reason. Do you realize that? That you can look at two people, and from the outside looking in, they might be living their lives the exact same way. They might be keeping the exact same commandments, but they're keeping them for completely different reasons. When you experience the fear of God, when you take the gospel of grace into your life, now you keep God's commands not because you have to but because you want to. Not out of duty, but out of delight. Not out of a sense of obligation, but out of a sense of gratitude. Not in order to try to win God's love, but because you know you already have it. And that is how Mary lived her life. She feared God, and she kept his commands.

    So do you see the difference? Has that happened to you? Do you know the difference between knowing about God and knowing God? And in knowing and loving God, have you discovered who you really are? Have you found him to be the core of your identity, the mainspring of all your actions? Do you know who you are in him, or are you still trying to figure it out for yourself, by yourself?

    Knowing Life

    See, the fear of God is not only the key to knowing God, it's also the key to knowing ourselves, and it's the key to life. It's the ultimate answer to the ultimate question. See, remember the ultimate question was, what difference does any of this make if none of us can escape death? We might answer, well, all you can do is just enjoy life as much as you can while you can. Just soak it all in. Or we might say, the best you can do is invest in your relationships with the people that you love the most, because our love relationships are what give meaning to our lives, and so we have to prioritize those relationships in the time that we have and make memories that we can cherish when we're separated from the ones that we love. Or we might say, the best we can do is add our little building blocks to the edifice of civilization, because even if we're not here to see it, at least we've done what we could to help make the world a better place, and that will be our legacy. That is how we will leave our mark on the world.

    But the professor of Ecclesiastes has pricked us and prodded us and pushed us to see that those answers are ultimately unsatisfying if everything will end in the black hole of death. If everything is eventually swallowed up by death, then everything in this life ultimately is pointless… unless there is a God who is stronger than death, who opens up a way on the other side of the grave.

    But you see, there are only two options: Either death means that nothing means anything, or God means that everything means everything. Either there's no purpose to anything, or everything is shot through with purpose. Either nothing means anything, or everything means everything. And the final verse of Ecclesiastes provides us with a little clue that everything matters. Everything means everything. Because here in verse 14, the narrator concludes the book by saying, “For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.” Now you might think, this isn't good news; this is bad news. How could this possibly be good, that God is going to judge everything, bring every deed into judgment. But you see, this verse points beyond itself. It has to.

    Just think about it: If death were the end of everything, then nothing really matters. But if God is going to judge every deed — even the secret little hidden things that we can't see with our own eyes because of our secret sins, or which we can't understand because they're inscrutable to us, we just can't get our minds wrapped around them — if God is going to judge every single little hidden thing, then that means that nothing is going to be swept under the rug. God is going to put the world to rights. He's going to put right everything that once went wrong, which means that death isn't the end of the story. There has to be something on the other side of death in order for God to make all things right.

    And therefore, that is the promise. Nothing is hidden from God. Evil is not going to get the last word. No, the promise is that God is going to judge the world, and therefore we will not see the world destroyed by sin and evil, but rather we will see it renewed in the love and the justice of God. So everything matters. Everything. Every single little hidden thought, word, and action will be judged, and that's good news. But how? How could it possibly be? If God is going to judge even our secret sins, then how will we escape the judgment? And the answer is that we have to pay attention to the wise words given to us by the one shepherd, because these are the words that will lead us to life.

    See, the wise words of the gospel are that Jesus was judged in our place on the cross so that we won't come into the judgment. Jesus died so that we might live. Jesus had it hard so that we might have it easy. What do I mean by that? The wise words of the gospel are meant to prod us like a goad, and the wise words of the gospel are like nails that we can hold on to, that we can grasp, that we can rely on, that we can depend on. But we, as a result, only get gently poked by the gospel of grace. That's all God's going to do to us. He will gently prod us with the gospel of grace, but it's only because Jesus received not a wooden goad but rather the long, sharp iron spear that was pierced into his side. And we receive the Word of God — something that we can hold on to, something that provides us with a handhold — but it's only because Jesus received those long, nine inch nails that were thrust into his wrists and into his legs. Jesus receives the spear, Jesus receives the nails, so that we might receive what? The gospel of grace. And so that we might experience that joy-filled, life-changing sense of awe in light of who God is and what He has done for us. And when you see that, when you understand that, when you appreciate that, well then you will fear God and you will keep his commandments, not because you have to, but because you want to. Not out of duty, but out of delight. Not out of a sense of obligation, but rather out of a sense of gratitude. And not in order to try to win God's love, but because you know you already have it.

    So here's the end. All has been heard. Fear the Lord and keep His commandments, because this is the whole of man. This is what it means to be human. This is what it means to be fully alive. The fear of God is the key to knowing God, to knowing yourself, and to knowing life. And this is where we find it. This is the only place we find it. So lay hold of it now, while you still can, in the time that we have.

    Let’s pray together.

    Father God, we thank you that you not only allow but you actually welcome our honest searching questions in order to figure out if there really is any meaning or purpose to our lives in light of the reality of suffering and the inevitability of death. But we thank you, Father, for the wise words of the gospel. Use them to goad us into laying hold of these firmly fixed truths that we can rely on: that you have done everything that is necessary — through the life, the death, the resurrection of Jesus, the finished work of the cross — in order to lead us into a life-giving, joy-filled relationship with you. We pray that you might help us to know you, to know ourselves, and to know life by sheer grace because of what Jesus has done for us. And we pray all this in his name. Amen.