“For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God.”
Romans 8:20-21
I live, now, on Crawford Dairy Road. The place lives up to its name. There are fields on either side of my house and tall dear corn growing across the road. Crawford Dairy rolls and gently bends past a farm house and then slips behind the tall North Carolina pines that frame our skyline. In the evening the lightning bugs launch themselves by the hundreds to dance the night away. I am captivated. Yet, as I sit on my porch soaking in this a pastoral place, I consider that the same idyllic scene has been played out for hundreds, even thousands of years. The snapshot is indeed beautiful. Yet as I think about the corn, I remember that it grows there by the sweat of a farmer’s brow. He tills, he sews, he waits, he harvests. Next year he’ll do it again, and the next year, and the next, until he comes to the end of his days. Then his sons will serve of the land as he did and his father did and his father’s father before him. The dance of the lightning bugs flickering above the corn is also futile. For they launch, dance, mate, and die, only for their offspring to do it again.
The book of Ecclesiastes is all about futility. The cycles of life under the sun, when viewed from its generational perspective are called futile, a “striving after the wind.” And so it has been ordained by God that we are all to be subjected to the futility of inevitable corruption and endless toil. This is our allotted portion and so we groan in chorus with all creation. But we are not left without hope.
The wisdom of Ecclesiastes is limited in its range. It does not extend its field of view beyond that which is observable on the earth. It does not consider anything beyond what will happen beyond the grave, except in a faint acknowledgment that something awaits – but we know not what. In this limited context our greatest good in the midst of toil is to enjoy pleasures and partake gladly in what prosperity may result from our work. Ecclesiastes is good medicine. It is an elixir against having too much ambition. But in the end it is merely a suppressant, keeping us from insanity. Toil and reward kindly distract us as we live out the length of our appointed days. Hope for enjoyments is good, but there is a much greater hope.
If our lives only contend with what each toilsome day brings, we groan and eventually, we die. To live for appetites that are never satisfied is a grievous evil, and O, how many of us in groan under our oppressive appetites. For the creation was subjected to futility and so it groans, waiting to be freed from its slavery to corruption.
But above the earth, and beyond Solomon’s wisdom, is heaven. While the site of heaven is obscured to us as we dwell beneath the clouds, there is one who has been sent from there to redeem a people. And though He has returned again to heaven, leaving His adopted people on a subjugated earth, yet He left us with a great gift – the Spirit of adoption. For the creation will be freed from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
The Spirit of adoption bridges the gulf between our earthly days of toil and our eternal inheritance. When eternity breaks into history all common wisdom is displaced. No longer are our lives measured by a number of days under the sun. No longer is joy attached only to earthly blessings. No longer does the oppression of the unrighteous trouble the just. No longer is work merely distraction. The measuring rod of life is no longer a segment with a definite starting point at birth and a definite end point at the grave. Rather it becomes a ray. It has a firm starting point but an infinite length. Along the ray is a point marking death, but that point is no futile end, but rather a glorious transition from sweat to sweet.
And yet, while we sojourn, we groan. Our earthly bodies are still subjected to corruption and we indeed waste away. We toil for our food and yet our stomachs are never satisfied. But even in our groaning we hope. We hope because we have received this blessed Spirit of adoption, and through Him we wait eagerly for our redemption. We have this Spirit of adoption as present and precious possession in the midst of our earthly toil. It is fully ours and we experience its wonderful effects. As our bodies waste away, inwardly we are renewed day by day. While our skin and bones submit to the laws of decay, our spirits are very much alive in righteousness.
And one day, one blessed day, our spiritual adoption will consummate in full adoption as sons. We will inherit our glorified bodies which will never again be ruled by futility. Such is the glory of this inheritance that all creation eagerly waits for its revelation. What a day!
O Lord, grant me perseverance to wait eagerly – in weakness groaning for your revelation in glory. Amen.
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