Stop Striving after Wind
yielding to god’s spirit
[originally written for Hargraves Home & Hearth 2021 Lent Devotional Series]
Often overlooked and misunderstood, the book of Ecclesiastes is the perfect book for Lent.
After all, Lent is about self-reflection and spiritual sobriety – facing up to the realities of who we are and who God is. “You are dust and to dust you shall return,” says God about His fallen creation (Gen 3:19). The author of Ecclesiastes knows about his own dust-ness. His goal is to examine life on earth and to find what might bring meaning to his dusty existence (Eccl 1:12-15). Instead, he finds meaninglessness (Eccl 2).
The Hebrew word that the author uses is “hebel” – translated variously as “meaningless,” “empty,” or “vain.” It is perhaps best translated as “vapor” which connotes impermanence, transience, and futility. In addition to this theme of “hebel,” the author sketches a vibrant picture for us in chapter one of a human trying to battle the wind (Eccl 1:14).
It brings to mind an opening scene from Disney’s “Mary Poppins” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BHoDW9f7vY). Mr. Banks is soliciting job applications from nannies and, on the appointed day, dozens of potential nannies line Cherry Tree Lane hoping to secure the position. But it is not to be. Mary Poppins – nanny extraordinaire – sends a huge gust of wind and all of the nannies are blown away, leaving Mary as the one and only job candidate! That Mary, much like the wind she sends, is certainly a force with which to reckon.
Perhaps I identify with this scene because I went to college in a flat, wind-swept town with more corn than people. (The wind destroyed innumerable umbrellas during my four years there.) And what I know first-hand is that fighting against wind with human strength is a ridiculous and futile activity. The wind has a mind of its own and a resoluteness beyond my own. Its shifts and twists and turns cannot be comprehended or predicted. Any human who tries to control the wind will end up on the losing end of the battle.
The author of Ecclesiastes concludes, “I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is [hebel] and a striving after wind” (Eccl 1:14, ESV).
We are strivers, are we not? Humans, dust though we are, put on our boxing gloves and go to war with the wind, day in and day out, hoping for an opportunity to conquer it. Our striving takes various forms. Some of us pursue advanced degrees (Eccl 1:16-18). Some of us indulge in the finest things the world can offer (Eccl 2:1-11). Others put in extra hours at work (Eccl 2:18-21).
We in the church strive, too. Even though we know the depths of grace which have brought us to Jesus, the lie is still whispered into our ear: “Prove yourself! Work harder!” It’s a powerful lie spoken by a formidable enemy. Surely he is right, we think. We need to memorize more Scripture, pray more prayers, give more money, sin less, evangelize more. We need to earn our place in the Kingdom. Striving is in our DNA.
But there is another way. It is found not in striving against the wind but in yielding to the Wind within us – the Holy Spirit. In Acts 2, the Holy Spirit dramatically enters into the presence of the fledgling church: “Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them” (2:2-4, NIV). It is He, the third person of the triune God, who will fill, indwell, lead, and transform these men and women to not just believe in Jesus but to be like Jesus.
During Lent, I ask myself, “Am I like the people described in Ecclesiastes – striving against the wind with my human might, straining and producing out of fleshly energy and effort? Am I trying to earn my way to God?”
During Lent, I ask myself, “Am I yielding to the Spirit within me to make me more like Jesus? Am I resting in Jesus’ finished work, allowing God to produce in and through me the Christlikeness I so want to embody?”
Scripture has given us two options. We can be like the people of the world who strive against the wind, producing mere vapor. Or we can be like people of the Kingdom who yield to the striving of the Wind of God within us, producing glory. Yes, we are dust, but for those of us who cling to Jesus, one day we will trade our dust for crowns of righteousness. As Paul exhorts in Philippians, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Philippians 2:12-13, ESV).