There are seasons when life feels like an endless loop —
work, rest, distraction, repeat.
And beneath it all, a quiet ache:
“Is any of this meaningful?”
What’s surprising is that the Bible doesn’t shy away from this. It confronts it head-on. In fact, one of Scripture’s most honest books begins not with comfort, but with a philosophical scream:
“Vanity of vanities! All is vanity.”
— Ecclesiastes 1:2
This is not a cheerful devotional line.
This is existential dread carved into sacred text.
And strangely, it echoes the cry of another thinker from a very different world — Albert Camus, the father of modern absurdism.
This post brings the two together.
The Teacher’s Cry: Life Under the Sun
Qoheleth, the “Teacher” in Ecclesiastes, looks at life with brutal honesty:
-
Work feels empty.
-
Pleasure fades.
-
Wisdom can’t save you from death.
-
Even righteousness seems to accomplish little.
It’s all “hevel”— vapor, breath, mist.
Beautiful but vanishing.
Visible but untouchable.
Qoheleth is not depressed; he is awake.
He sees the cycles:
Generations come and go.
The sun rises and sets.
People labor, enjoy a moment, and return to dust.
Nothing “under the sun” fills the inner hunger.
Camus: The Absurd Human Condition
Albert Camus saw the same structure.
He argued that life feels meaningless because humans long for clarity, justice, permanence —
while the universe offers silence.
This clash — the hunger for meaning versus the emptiness of existence — creates what he calls:
The Absurd
Camus is Ecclesiastes without God.
His solution was not faith, but lucid rebellion:
Choose to live, love, create, and resist despair even when the world offers no answers.
Qoheleth says something similar:
“Eat your bread with joy.” (Eccl. 9:7)
Find small pleasures in a fleeting world.
A tiny flame in a vast night.
In this strange moment, Ecclesiastes and Camus nod to each other.
Where They Diverge: Eternity in the Heart
The turning point in Ecclesiastes comes quietly:
“He has set eternity in their hearts.” (Eccl. 3:11)
This one sentence reveals everything.
The ache for meaning isn’t proof of futility —
it’s proof of design.
We long for permanence
because we were made for permanence.
We long for justice
because we were made by a just God.
We long for meaning
because eternity is woven into our bones.
To Camus, longing is a wound.
To Scripture, longing is a compass.
The question “Does life mean anything?”
is itself a clue that we were made for more than “life under the sun.”
Sisyphus and the Empty Hill
Camus ends The Myth of Sisyphus with a haunting image:
A man condemned to push a stone uphill forever,
only for it to roll back down each time.
And Camus concludes:
“One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”
Meaning found not in the task,
but in the rebellion.
But Scripture tells a bigger story:
The stone doesn’t stay at the bottom forever.
God enters the cycle.
Death loses its sting.
Meaning is restored.
Sisyphus doesn’t remain condemned —
the hill is redeemed.
Camus imagines a happy Sisyphus.
Christianity promises a resurrected Sisyphus.
When Your Life Feels Meaningless
Your sense of meaninglessness isn’t a flaw.
It’s a spiritual instinct —
the soul remembering what it was made for.
Ecclesiastes tells you:
“You’re right. Life without God is meaningless.”
Camus tells you:
“You’re right. The universe alone cannot satisfy your hunger.”
Christian faith tells you:
“Your longing is the echo of eternity calling you home.”
In the quiet moments when everything feels dull or repetitive,
when days blur into each other,
when life itself feels like vapor —
that ache is not despair.
It is awakening.
It is the whisper of a God who has set eternity in your heart
and is gently pulling you toward Himself.
The Final Word of Ecclesiastes
Not despair.
Not cynicism.
Not nihilism.
But this:
“Fear God and keep His commandments,
for this is the whole duty of man.”
— Ecclesiastes 12:13
Meaning is not found in the cycle of life
but in the God who steps above the sun
and enters the world to redeem it.
In Him, the story is not circular —
it is moving toward a glorious end.
No comments:
Post a Comment