Bullet With Butterfly Wings

Today I was exploring the wisdom of Ecclesiastes to the soundtrack of Smashing Pumpkins.

There's a curious resonance you know.

So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, a chasing after the wind. I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun, because I must leave them to the one who comes after me.

Ecclesiastes 2:17-18

The world is a vampire, sent to drain
Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames
And what do I get, for my pain
Betrayed desires, and a piece of the game
Even though I know-I suppose I'll show
All my cool and cold-like old Job

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage
Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage

Now I'm naked, nothing but an animal
But can you fake it, for just one more show
And what do you want, I want to change
And what have you got
When you feel the same
Even though I know-I suppose I'll show
All my cool and cold-like old Job

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage
Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage

Tell me I'm the only one
Tell me there's no other one
Jesus was the only son
Tell me I'm the chosen one
Jesus was the only son for you

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage
And I still believe that I cannot be saved

Bullet With Butterfly Wings - Smashing Pumpkins

Both speak of the meanless of work, of striving, of the futility of life, if there is no transcendent dimension to it, if we have no hope of anything beyond the horizon of our lived experience. I have spent not a small amount of time reflecting on this given my recent work experiences. And it makes it real. We need this sort of perspective in life.

It doesn't gel with formulaic church programs. But programs can't show you that you're not a rat on a treadmill. It doesn't offer easy answers. But we're jaded by easy answers anyway.

This is where the cynical wisdom of Ecclesiates can be a breath of fresh air. Drawing on irony and angst it just can't be shoe hormed into a happy-clappy box. But neither could Jesus.