A Dummy's Guide to Ecclesiastes & CREC in Washington
These last ten days included a host of details, but God oversaw and blessed the entire picture.
Nuntium
I am writing from Detroit Airport (DTW). My long ten-day journey is coming to an end. I have slept on five different beds, spoken at some formal level at least eight times, and have met a few hundred people. One of my strategies for preparing for the year was to make the first part of the year intense and the latter less intense. I still have a few trips coming up, but the gap between each trip will become longer.
One of the joys of my last day in Seattle this past Monday was spending a significant part of the day with pastors and elders from Washington, as well as a couple from Idaho. It was great to spend concentrated time with some of these dear brothers. We usually see each other in passing at Council or some conference, but it was a delight to sit with them in the beautiful Seattle sunshine and enjoy some of the finest ribs—my gratitude to Rev. Jerry Owens and his wife for hosting us. The ministry in Washington is radically different from what we experience in Florida, and it was good to hear first-hand accounts of their labors on the ground.
We had around 17 attendees. The agenda included some honest conversations about the challenges facing the CREC amid our explosive growth, as well as some of the ideological dangers that have tempted some of our young men. We also covered how best to steward the growth God has provided. I left with a deep sense of gratitude for the faithful labor of these brothers and their consistent petition that God would fill them with the Spirit.
A World That Appears in Control
One of the striking conversations I had while in Tokyo was with a pastor who has served in the city for almost 50 years. Japan is a nation of remarkable order—punctual, efficient, productive. I asked him, “Is the train system ever delayed?” He answered, “Never, unless someone jumps on the tracks.” Suicides are a regular occurrence on the train lines. The detail is tragic, but it reveals a more profound truth: outward excellence can coexist with inward despair.
Even in highly structured societies, the soul remains unsettled. You can have national honor and personal hopelessness in the same breath. We may believe we are the masters of our fate—but catastrophe quickly humbles us.
We are not the first to imagine ourselves in control. The kings of the earth have long set themselves against the Lord, but He laughs from heaven (Psalm 2). Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails (Proverbs 19:21).
Life as Vapor, Not Meaningless
As we consider Ecclesiastes, Solomon is not teaching us that life is meaningless, but that it is fleeting. The Hebrew word hebel, used over 30 times in the book, is not best translated as "vanity" or "emptiness," but as “vapor”—something real, but short-lived, and impossible to control.
This isn’t a call to nihilism. Solomon affirms joy, feasting, marriage, work, and reverence. He’s telling us not to idolize our labor or days, not to build life on the illusion of permanence. Ecclesiastes is not a contradiction of Genesis or the Gospels—it’s a companion to them, a wisdom book for pilgrims under the sun.
This truth appears throughout Scripture. “Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow” (Psalm 144:4). “All flesh is like grass… the grass withers, and the flower falls” (1 Peter 1:24). These are not statements of futility, but of perspective. They drive us not to despair, but to faith.
Abel the Vapor and the Fall’s Ripple
The name Abel (hebel) is no accident. The second son of Adam and Eve, Abel, lived a righteous life and died prematurely. His life was the first to vanish, violently, under the weight of sin. Adam and Eve tried to recover meaning outside Eden, but Abel’s death confronted them with the reality that life was vapor outside of God’s presence.
Abel is not forgotten. He appears in the great hall of faith (Hebrews 11). His offering was accepted by God (Genesis 4), and his blood still speaks. Perhaps Abel was even named after his death—a silent confession from his parents that they were powerless to preserve him. He was vapor.
The Only Way Forward
So, how do we live in light of this? Ecclesiastes tells us: since all is vapor, we must learn to live by trust, not control. Not by fear, but by faith.
Christ holds all things together (Colossians 1:17). God declares the end from the beginning, and His counsel stands (Isaiah 46:9–10). “You do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes” (James 4:14).
Even so, we rise each day not because we rule the future, but because Christ reigns now—risen, ascended, and interceding for us (Romans 8:34).
The End of the Matter
Ecclesiastes does not leave us wandering in confusion. Solomon concludes:
“Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man” (Ecclesiastes 12:13).
So labor on. Eat your bread with joy. Drink your wine with a glad heart. Love your children. Honor your parents. Keep the Sabbath. Offer your tithes. Delight in the good gifts of God.
Because in Christ—the greater Solomon, the true Son of David—life is not meaningless, but meaningful in Him who controls what we cannot.
[1] Douglas Wilson, Joy at the end of the Tether, pg. 10.
[2] Jeffrey Meyers, A Table in the Mist, pg. 43.
[3] Meyers, p.45.
[4] Charles Bridges, Ecclesiastes Commentary, pg. 14.