
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


1 Remember your Creator in the days of your youth,
before the days of adversity come
and the years approach of which you will say,
“I find no pleasure in them,”
2 before the light of the sun, moon, and stars is darkened,
and the clouds return after the rain,
3 on the day the keepers of the house tremble
and the strong men stoop,
when those grinding cease because they are few
and those watching through windows see dimly,
4 when the doors to the street are shut
and the sound of the mill fades away,
when one rises at the sound of a bird
and all the daughters of song grow faint,
5 when men fear the heights and dangers of the road,
when the almond tree blossoms,
the grasshopper loses its spring,
and the caper berry shrivels—
for then man goes to his eternal home
and mourners walk the streets.
6 Remember Him before the silver cord is snapped
and the golden bowl is crushed,
before the pitcher is shattered at the spring
and the wheel is broken at the well,
7 before the dust returns to the ground from which it came
and the spirit returns to God who gave it.
8 “Futility of futilities,” says the Teacher.
“Everything is futile!”
Written by Stephen Shead
Early on in Ecclesiastes, I mentioned that as the Teacher probes life “under the sun” to try to find something of real and lasting value, he keeps running up against the same huge obstacle: Death. As he reaches the end of his great philosophical work, that’s the topic he turns to once again – or rather, growing old and dying.
I think this is one of the most achingly beautiful poems ever written. It’s not an easy poem – there’s imagery that is hard to decipher. But all the images are haunting word pictures of the process of getting old – your body becoming frail, eyesight and hearing growing weak, everything becoming slow and laborious as the spark of life ebbs away, until death arrives and the grave becomes your “eternal home” (v 5). (Well, “eternal” until Jesus returns to raise us! But that’s further than the Teacher can see.)
It’s a sad and reflective poem. But I don’t think the Teacher is bitter. In fact, he wants to teach us the antidote to becoming bitter as we get old: “Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of adversity come” (v 1).
When I was a teenager, I knew who I wanted to be like when I was old: my grandmother (“Granny” to us). She was widowed when I was little. My grandfather had been a pastor, and he and Granny had known the Lord Jesus and walked with him their entire lives. Granny was strong-willed and strong-minded; but she was also the gentlest soul who loved her Lord, loved people, and wanted more than anything for the gospel of Jesus to reach the ends of the earth.
And Granny aged gracefully. So gracefully! There was no bitterness, no resentment at what was happening to her, no anger at God for taking her husband. Only gentleness, love, and a deep thankfulness for her Saviour.
Sometimes you hear of people who say, “While I’m young, I want to live it up. I might think about God when I’m older, but I don’t want him to spoil my fun now.” But I think that’s a guaranteed way to become bitter and angry when you’re old – which will harden you to God. You’re training yourself to need to “live it up” and have fun in order to find contentment … which means you’ll be left empty and consumed with frustration when your body starts to break down.
That’s why it’s such an advantage to come to your Creator before the “days of adversity” come. Or in New Testament terms: The earlier you give your life to Christ and commit 100% to living for him and his kingdom, the better prepared you’ll be for bad times and for getting old. Please Lord, let me remember you now, and let me grow old like Granny.
Stephen is our Senior Minister.
By St Barnabas Anglican Church Fairfield and Bossley Park1 Remember your Creator in the days of your youth,
before the days of adversity come
and the years approach of which you will say,
“I find no pleasure in them,”
2 before the light of the sun, moon, and stars is darkened,
and the clouds return after the rain,
3 on the day the keepers of the house tremble
and the strong men stoop,
when those grinding cease because they are few
and those watching through windows see dimly,
4 when the doors to the street are shut
and the sound of the mill fades away,
when one rises at the sound of a bird
and all the daughters of song grow faint,
5 when men fear the heights and dangers of the road,
when the almond tree blossoms,
the grasshopper loses its spring,
and the caper berry shrivels—
for then man goes to his eternal home
and mourners walk the streets.
6 Remember Him before the silver cord is snapped
and the golden bowl is crushed,
before the pitcher is shattered at the spring
and the wheel is broken at the well,
7 before the dust returns to the ground from which it came
and the spirit returns to God who gave it.
8 “Futility of futilities,” says the Teacher.
“Everything is futile!”
Written by Stephen Shead
Early on in Ecclesiastes, I mentioned that as the Teacher probes life “under the sun” to try to find something of real and lasting value, he keeps running up against the same huge obstacle: Death. As he reaches the end of his great philosophical work, that’s the topic he turns to once again – or rather, growing old and dying.
I think this is one of the most achingly beautiful poems ever written. It’s not an easy poem – there’s imagery that is hard to decipher. But all the images are haunting word pictures of the process of getting old – your body becoming frail, eyesight and hearing growing weak, everything becoming slow and laborious as the spark of life ebbs away, until death arrives and the grave becomes your “eternal home” (v 5). (Well, “eternal” until Jesus returns to raise us! But that’s further than the Teacher can see.)
It’s a sad and reflective poem. But I don’t think the Teacher is bitter. In fact, he wants to teach us the antidote to becoming bitter as we get old: “Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of adversity come” (v 1).
When I was a teenager, I knew who I wanted to be like when I was old: my grandmother (“Granny” to us). She was widowed when I was little. My grandfather had been a pastor, and he and Granny had known the Lord Jesus and walked with him their entire lives. Granny was strong-willed and strong-minded; but she was also the gentlest soul who loved her Lord, loved people, and wanted more than anything for the gospel of Jesus to reach the ends of the earth.
And Granny aged gracefully. So gracefully! There was no bitterness, no resentment at what was happening to her, no anger at God for taking her husband. Only gentleness, love, and a deep thankfulness for her Saviour.
Sometimes you hear of people who say, “While I’m young, I want to live it up. I might think about God when I’m older, but I don’t want him to spoil my fun now.” But I think that’s a guaranteed way to become bitter and angry when you’re old – which will harden you to God. You’re training yourself to need to “live it up” and have fun in order to find contentment … which means you’ll be left empty and consumed with frustration when your body starts to break down.
That’s why it’s such an advantage to come to your Creator before the “days of adversity” come. Or in New Testament terms: The earlier you give your life to Christ and commit 100% to living for him and his kingdom, the better prepared you’ll be for bad times and for getting old. Please Lord, let me remember you now, and let me grow old like Granny.
Stephen is our Senior Minister.

15,506 Listeners