
The Return of The King
There is an oft-repeated rule that, among polite society, or in certain social settings, you're not supposed to discuss religion or politics.
But that hasn't stopped us before, has it? So let's talk about politics this morning. And we're doing that because we're working our way through the book of Ecclesiastes, and today we're looking at a collection of passages—seven in total, some of which we just read—that have to do with politics.
Broken World
But before we get to those passages, I want to briefly touch on what we've seen in Ecclesiastes so far, and what all of that has to do with politics. Or rather, what it doesn't have to do with politics.
See, our world has a lot of problems. A lot of problems that Ecclesiastes has identified. Problems like oppression of the weak, unjust distribution of riches, unexpected events wiping out wealth, marriage problems, employment problems.
And people want to fix these problems, and much of the time, they look to politics for the solution. It's up to the government to fix this stuff. Politicians campaign on their ability to fix these problems. When things go wrong, we blame the government.
And in fact, some of these issues have become talked about in political contexts so much that we think they are political issues. Many people believe that social justice or abortion or unemployment or marriage are political issues.
And what has Ecclesiastes shown us? It's shown us that these are not political issues. These are life-under-the-sun issues. This world is not a mess because of who is or was in government. This world is a mess because Adam and Eve sinned and we're in exile from God's presence.
And so the government can't fix these problems because these are problems inherent in the human condition outside of the Garden of Eden. These problems will keep being problems, around and around and around, no matter who wins the next election, until the Lord steps in to fix what is broken.
Of course, that's not saying that the government can't do anything, or that good government isn't better than bad government. We're going to see some of that this morning.
But if everything is meaningless apart from the hope of eternal life, then no legislation can fix that. Which means that Ecclesiastes has put politics in its place. It cannot fix the fundamental problems with our world.
Broken Systems (Ecc 5:8-9; 10:5-7, 16-17)
Perhaps not surprisingly, not only can politics not fix the problems with our world, but politics can't even fix itself. Modern political spin campaigns make us think that the problem with the government is the current political party, and if we can just vote for change, then even if the world won't get fixed, maybe our government will at least be fixed.
Or if we see our country making the same mistakes over and over again, we think it's a localized problem. We know who to blame it on. If only we could educate people better, if only we could get people to think. If only we could go back to the politics of the past when everything worked the way it was supposed to.
And Ecclesiastes pops that bubble, too. Ecclesiastes shows us that politics has always been broken, shot through with corrupt systems and corrupt rulers, and nothing under the sun is going to change that.
“If you see in a province the oppression of the poor and the violation of justice and righteousness, do not be amazed at the matter, for the high official is watched by a higher, and there are yet higher ones over them” (Ecclesiastes 5:8).
The first few times I read this verse, I didn't get it. I was waiting for the punchline. If you see bad things happening, don't be surprised, because there's a government bureaucracy, and…
But there is no punchline, because that is the punchline. Government bureaucracies are just sources of corruption. Always been that way, always will be that way. And it's a problem inherent in government because power corrupts.
Give people power, and they tend to use it for themselves. Layers of bureaucracy tend to create "old boys’ clubs" in which the powerful rig the system to help themselves out, and that's how it's always worked.
This is not a new problem. This is not a left-wing problem or a right-wing problem. It's not a conservative or a liberal problem. It's not a small-town problem and it’s not a big-city problem. It's a human nature problem.
Verse 8 is followed up by verse 9, which is a very difficult verse to translate from Hebrew. This verse could be adding to verse 8 by describing the king's participation in all of this corruption. That's how the NIV puts it: "The increase from the land is taken by all; the king himself profits from the fields" (Ecc 5:9, NIV).
Or it could be saying what the ESV says, that when a king is committed to cultivated fields, this works out best for the land and this for all of the people.
It's hard to know for sure, but what's interesting is that whichever way we translate it, each of these various translations reflects some aspect of the truth. If power corrupts, then absolute power corrupts absolutely, and kings have often been the most corrupt of them all.
If you look throughout history, you see many cases of the people getting rid of their king because of the way he was over-profiting from his people's fields.
On the other hand, it's also true that when a king is committed to the development of his land, it benefits not only the land but everybody who shares it. Good authority is a good gift.
Sadly, our world has seen far too many examples of good authority. In a perfect world, only the wisest and best would be in positions of authority, but we know that's not how it works. Which is what we see over in chapter 10.
“There is an evil that I have seen under the sun, as it were an error proceeding from the ruler: folly is set in many high places, and the rich sit in a low place. I have seen slaves on horses, and princes walking on the ground like slaves” (Ecclesiastes 10:5–7).
What Qoheleth is describing here is a broken system. Nothing is as it should be. If you've ever looked at politics and thought, "I can't believe that person is in that position, while this person over here is being ignored," once again, it's not a new problem.
Verse 16 continues the same line of thought when it says, “Woe to you, O land, when your king is a child, and your princes feast in the morning!” (Ecclesiastes 10:16).
It's not clear that he is speaking about the king being an actual child. It's more likely like he is talking about a king who acts like a child. He feasts in the morning because he can, and nobody is stopping him, and he can do what he wants. And the result is disaster for his land.
Qoheleth doesn't ignore that there are good rulers who do benefit their people, which we see in verse 17: “Happy are you, O land, when your king is the son of the nobility, and your princes feast at the proper time, for strength, and not for drunkenness!” (Ecclesiastes 10:17).
Wise leaders are a blessing to their people. But we can't miss where Qoheleth lays the stress in this section. All of life under the sun is vain and meaningless, and politics is no exception. We live in a broken world and that means our political systems are broken too.
Case Studies
1: The Old King and the Wise Young Man (4:13-16)
Twice in this book, Qoheleth gives us a case study of wisdom and foolishness and vanity at work in the political realm. I'm calling these "case studies" because they are stories that show how the things he's been talking about work.
The first of these political case studies is found in chapter 4.
“Better was a poor and wise youth than an old and foolish king who no longer knew how to take advice. For he went from prison to the throne, though in his own kingdom he had been born poor. I saw all the living who move about under the sun, along with that youth who was to stand in the king’s place. There was no end of all the people, all of whom he led. Yet those who come later will not rejoice in him. Surely this also is vanity and a striving after wind” (Ecclesiastes 4:13–16).
There's some serious question of what real-life situation Qoheleth is talking about here. This story does sound a bit like David and Saul, and it also maps on well to Solomon and Jeroboam, the exile who ripped ten of the tribes away from Solomon's son after the old king died.
Or maybe this isn't supposed to fit one specific historical account, and that's the point. It's a generic rags-to-riches story that points to many similar stories, and it shows how real life often flips a lot of things on its head. In Biblical wisdom, age is usually connected with wisdom, wisdom is connected to teachability.
Youth is more likely to be connected to foolishness. This story flips the script, just like the script of this young man who rises from prison to take the place of the old king who wouldn't listen to anybody anymore.
And just look at what verses 15-16 say about how great this nation is that this young man now leads: “I saw all the living who move about under the sun, along with that youth who was to stand in the king’s place. There was no end of all the people, all of whom he led” (Ecclesiastes 4:15–16).
This is an amazing story, the kind that people make movies about, with a triumphant soundtrack reaching a crescendo as the king smiles out at his people right before the credits roll. But Qoheleth doesn't get swept up in the emotion. Ever the realist, he knows what's coming. Look at how verses 16 finish up: "Yet those who come later will not rejoice in him. Surely this also is vanity and a striving after wind."
This successful young man, for all of his accomplishments, is not going to be remembered well. There's no lasting legacy. Win the election, gain the nation, and it's all just a puff of smoke that's here today and gone tomorrow.
So, yes, it's better to be the poor wise youth than the old and foolish king, but in the end, their destiny is the same. They end up on the same political ash heap. Nothing lasts.
2: The Little City and the Poor Wise Man (9:13-15)
The second case study is found in chapter 9, and at first, the story beats sound surprisingly similar.
“[13] I have also seen this example of wisdom under the sun, and it seemed great to me. [14] There was a little city with few men in it, and a great king came against it and besieged it, building great siegeworks against it. [15] But there was found in it a poor, wise man, and he by his wisdom delivered the city. Yet no one remembered that poor man” (Ecclesiastes 9:13–15).
This story could be a possible allusion to Jerusalem in the days of Hezekiah, when Sennacherib of Assyria came up to destroy it. If so, the poor wise man would be the prophet Isaiah, whose wisdom was trusting in the Lord and encouraging Hezekiah to do the same.
Once again, we're not certain if it's that experience or a general type of fable that Qoheleth points to. What's similar here is that once again we have the unexpected taking place: a poor and wise man is doing what a powerful king was unable to do. And the ending is much the same: the poor man is forgotten, tossed aside as history marches on.
This time, however, Qoheleth gives some concluding comments on the lessons we learn from this story. Even though this man is forgotten, there are still some positive lessons to be learned.
“But I say that wisdom is better than might, though the poor man’s wisdom is despised and his words are not heard” (Ecclesiastes 9:16).
Even if nobody listened to him, even if he had no effect, wisdom is better than strength. Now, there's some futility going on here, because even though wisdom is better than might, it's easy to be ignored and forgotten. Just because it's better doesn't mean it's going to make any difference.
Still, it's better. Verse 17: “The words of the wise heard in quiet are better than the shouting of a ruler among fools” (Ecclesiastes 9:17). Quiet wisdom is better than loud foolishness, even if it’s coming from a powerful ruler.
And just think: this was written before Truth Social! See, there really is nothing new under the sun.
Qoheleth continues to tell us that wisdom is better in verse 18: "Wisdom is better than weapons of war." Isn't that what the story of the poor wise man shows us? Wisdom is more powerful than great siegeworks.
And yet—and yet—all of this ends on a pretty low point: "But one sinner destroys much good." No matter how good wisdom is, it doesn't take a lot to tip the scales towards foolishness. As the next verses tell us, “Dead flies make the perfumer’s ointment give off a stench; so a little folly outweighs wisdom and honour” (Ecclesiastes 10:1).
So yes, wisdom is better, and there are a few cases where we see wisdom winning the day. But folly is easy to spread, and it only takes one person to undo a lot of good.
In other words, in our world, wisdom is fragile. Don't expect it to last. And if we're tracking with Qoheleth, we can hear him chanting in the background, "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity."
Under Authority (8:2-4; 10:4, 20)
So our world is broken, our political systems are broken, and despite brief episodes of wisdom, the balance tends to tip in the favour of foolishness again and again.
This is a profoundly realistic perspective on politics. It pours water on the idealistic fires of young revolutionaries who think they're the first people in history to have things figured out, and they're going to show everybody how it’s done.
As long as we live under the sun, we should expect politics to be broken.
But is that it? What are people like you and me supposed to do about that? And writing to people in his context, Qoheleth tells people: submit to the king. Live as one under authority.
We see this advice being given back in chapter 8, starting in verse 2. _“I say: Keep the king’s command, because of God’s oath to him" (Ecclesiastes 8:2).
Whether Qoheleth was King Solomon or not, he lived in a time where nations had kings and those kings had essentially unchecked authority. And though they could abuse that authority, as we've seen, it was to be submitted to.
There's an interesting reference here to "God's oath to him." This could be a reference to the Davidic covenant, and God's promise to keep a son of David always on the throne. Others translate this verse to say that you should obey the king as if you had made a vow to God. However we take it, it's a serious and holy business to obey the king.
The king is to be respected, as verse 3 says. "Be not hasty to go from his presence." Chapter 10 has more to say about respecting the king. “If the anger of the ruler rises against you, do not leave your place, for calmness will lay great offenses to rest” (Ecclesiastes 10:4). Don't make him mad, in other words.
And then what is almost surely a sly reference to the king's intelligence-gathering apparatus, Qoheleth says in verse 20, “Even in your thoughts, do not curse the king, nor in your bedroom curse the rich, for a bird of the air will carry your voice, or some winged creature tell the matter” (Ecclesiastes 10:20).
Back in chapter 8, verse 3 finishes by saying, "Do not take your stand in an evil cause, for he does whatever he pleases." Do what's right, because the king can do to you what he wants, and nobody will be able to question him. “For the word of the king is supreme, and who may say to him, ‘What are you doing?”’” (Ecclesiastes 8:4).
If any of this sounds familiar, it's because Qoheleth's perspective on submission sounds a lot like Paul's from Romans 13.
“[1] Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. [2] Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment. [3] For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval” (Romans 13:1–3).
Notice how Paul hits so many of the same notes as Qoheleth? I think that, in God's good design, Ecclesiastes shaped Paul's thinking and writing in a lot more places than we would guess.
Just like Qoheleth, Paul is not naive about the nature of the king. Roman emperors did bad stuff. And the fact that they even were emperors could have been seen as a problem. Up until just a few decades before Jesus was born, Rome had been a democracy, with elected officials and the whole bit. Caesar Augustus had slowly taken more and more power to himself until he had gained absolute power.
And Paul says, submit to the governing authorities. Don't resist them. Now yes, of course, Paul and the other apostles knew that there was a time to disobey the authorities when they tried to stop you from doing things that God had told you to do. But otherwise, his approach is much the same as Qoheleth's: obey the king.
Human Authority
So we can't deny that Qoheleth takes a very straightforward approach to authority: you should submit to it.
That feels somewhat jarring to us, doesn't it? It kind of pokes us in the eye. We live in a time in history and a place in the world where resistance to authority is often enough deemed a virtue. And we've seen our share of that in recent years.
I remember when the trucker convoy was in full swing, and one of the representatives summed up their message something like this: "We're here to let the government know that we will be governed, but we will not be ruled."
We will not be ruled.
What would Qoheleth say to that?
Now, okay, I get it: being "ruled" instead of being "governed" is bad if you live in a country that has laws that say you're supposed to be governed instead of ruled. And if the government began to rule you in ways that go against those laws, it would be reasonable for you, as a citizen of that country, to speak up.
We should be concerned with politicians who don't respect the rule of law and resort to authoritarian power grabs. But not everything is an authoritarian power grab. Our government has the authority to tell us to do things that we don't want to do.
And according to Qoheleth, and according to Paul, and according to every place in the Bible that addresses this topic, there's nothing inherently wrong with being ruled. There's nothing inherently wrong with kings. There's nothing inherently wrong with someone with authority telling you what to do.
And I fear that a lot of what we saw five years ago wasn't people carefully responding to an abuse of authority, but people rebelling against authority, period. "Don't tell me what to do" seems to be the basic approach taken by many people.
Whereas according to Qoheleth, our basic approach to authority should be submission. Doing what we're told, when we've been told to do something by a legitimate authority, is good for us. 8:5: “Whoever keeps a command will know no evil thing, and the wise heart will know the proper time and the just way.”
Independence is not a virtue. Belligerence is not a fruit of the Holy Spirit. Submission to legitimate authority is good.
Divine Authority
And all of this is the case because earthly authority is derived from divine authority. Jesus is the king of kings, and ever since we were made in God's image and told to have dominion, every earthly rule is just an arrow pointing in his direction.
Jesus is the ultimate king whose word is supreme, and whom nobody can or would ever want to question.
And Christians should have no problem with the idea of submitting to authority because we already submit to the authority of Jesus.
“Jesus is Lord" means "Jesus tells me what to do, and I do it."
Some of you have heard me say this before, but at times I've been concerned that some of what draws people to churches like ours—yes, talking specifically about a Baptist church—is that there is far less of an authority structure than what you find in other kinds of churches.
In a Baptist church, it's not the pastor but the people who make up the church who are the highest authority under Christ. But those two little words, "under Christ," are absolutely important.
See, being a Baptist doesn't mean, "We don't have this big church hierarchy over us, so we get to do what we want." Being a Baptist means, "We don't have this big church hierarchy over us, so we get to do what Jesus wants." We start with the Lordship of Christ and His absolute authority over His people.
And the test of whether we believe this or not isn't whether you think this sounds good or whether you agree with this in your head. The test is whether you obey what Jesus tells you in His word.
“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you?” said Jesus in Luke 6:46.
Or, as he said in Matthew 7:21, “‘Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.”
He's not saying that the way you earn your way into heaven is by doing His will, but rather that the distinctive mark of someone who has been saved by God's grace is that they do God's will. They obey Jesus.
And I can just say that in my life, and the lives of people I've watched, embracing obedience is so freeing and so beautiful and so life-giving. It's so simple to say, "Jesus already told me what to do here, so I don't have to struggle with this decision. It's already been made for me. And the decision is good because it was made by a kind and good saviour."
And so this is why Christians read the Bible and study the Bible and preach the Bible—because through this book, our king rules over us. And we love our king and we love His word and we want to know what His will for us is.
The Return of the King
But as much as we love this book, we long for even more. We long for the return of the King. Right now he reigns until all of His enemies are put under his feet, and then comes the end, when the kingdoms of this world become the kingdoms of our God, and He will reign here with His people forever and ever.
Until then, what does it look like to apply the things we've learned today? I think it means being less freaked out by the ups and downs of politics. It might mean watching less news or being less fussed about the goings-on in our world. It's not that we don't care, we just understand that this world and these political systems have always been broken.
It means that we as Christians don't put too much hope into human politics to fix anything. I wrote something on the church blog this week about this very topic. Once again, it's not that we don't care, and don't work for good where we can, but we know that our only hope is found in the gospel, not a change in government. “For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come” (Hebrews 13:14).
It means that we do what Jesus tells us to do in His word, and we cultivate eager hope for His soon return.
I'll never forget the year 2003, because that was the year that the final Lord of the Rings movie was coming to theatres. At some point in that year, I downloaded the preview trailer onto my computer—which probably took well over an hour on dial-up speeds—and I watched that video again and again. I analyzed every frame, and delighted in the tantalizingly brief preview of what the full theatrical experience was going to be.
This morning we get to proclaim the Lord's death until He comes. He told us He's going to drink the fruit of the vine with us in His father's kingdom. This is not just a set of ideas, people—we are waiting for the real return of a very real King.
And every week that we gather to praise Him and hear from Him in His word and drink this cup, it's like me watching that movie trailer in my bedroom. We're getting just the littlest preview of the real thing.
And I suspect that on that day when we feast with our King on a new earth, and hold up the cup and drink together with Jesus, it's going to feel new and wonderful—and maybe just a little bit familiar.
Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.
