To Whom Shall We Look? (Ecclesiastes 4)

The world creaks and groans under the weight of sin.

A shattered reality is before us.

The earth shudders, as oppression and deep seated brokenness sing their tune.

To whom shall we look?

Tears mount like glass shards scarring the face of those suffering.

A cry of outrage. A longing for justice. Through suffocated breath, a lament pours out.

To whom shall we look?

It’s a searing diagnosis of our ravaged world. And yet as the diagnosis weaves its trail, not only does it look out there, but into the recesses of our hearts too. For as the preacher continues to explore the world before him, his wisdom must speak into both.

And what does he find as he excavates beyond the facade?

Toil and achievement springing from envy, and the temptation of every human heart: to serve ‘me’, not ‘we’.

There’s a dissonance to his words. Their pairing seems to jar. And yet could it be that these notions of looking out and looking in are bound by more than random musings? Both drive us to the question:

To whom shall we look?

Wisdom says look to Him. Wisdom says remember the One who came. The one who wept. The one who cried in outrage at the brokenness of his world.

And yet he is also the one who moved resolutely towards us, and not away. The one who drew near, in this sin ravaged world, with our sin-laden hearts.

The One who became the man of sorrows, bearing the jarring weight of every ‘me’ moment, so that He could serve the ‘we’.

To whom shall we look when we have no words for the shattered reality before us? We look to Him.