A Water-Stained Diploma
Junk shops have always held a particular fascination for me. While sometimes misnamed as “antique stores,” the sellers in these establishments bring in all manner of items, hoping that the customer cannot live without them.
On a recent excursion to one of these stores, a water-damaged diploma caught my attention. It was not from a prestigious Ivy League University, nor was it antique; it was issued by a local college in the mid-1980’s. For $15 (likely less with a little haggling), one could purchase the diploma. Though I had no interest in buying it, my mind went to where it often goes when perusing merchandise in a junk shop; how did this end up here? Seeking to satisfy my curiosity, I did a quick online search for the graduate’s name. Though some possibilities populated the screen, the search was inclusive. Had he died young, and his possessions sold at auction? Was there a falling out with a family member who sold his items to the nearest dealer? Was he absentminded and inadvertently put this important document in a box of donations? I will never know the answer. Still, it was an “Ecclesiastes moment” for me. What represented a minimum of four years of hard work, thousands of dollars, and efforts of both professors and student now lay among rusty hammers and fake furs with a $15 price tag. Indeed, all is vanity and striving after the wind.
There is certainly nothing wrong with pursuing one’s goals and dreams. Many will take the path of this unknown man and receive similar diplomas as representative of their educational success. Others will find recognition in the business world, and still others will be remembered for their athletic abilities. However, it is important to remember the ancient words penned by the Ecclesiastes author: “Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun” (2:11). He went on to write, “I hated all my toil in which I toil under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to the man who will come after me, and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool? Yet he will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity” (18-19). From dollars to diplomas, you can’t take it with you!
The point of Ecclesiastes is to help the reader remember what is truly important. It is not the education, the job, the European vacation, or the house with the white picket fence; it is one’s standing with God. The writer concludes, “The end of the matter; all has been heard, Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil” (12:13-14).
Ecclesiastes confronts the modern reader just as it did the ancient; no matter when humans have lived, there has always been the siren’s call away from what is truly important. Thus, it is important for every reader to evaluate his or her priorities in life. Does education or work surpass in importance the opportunities to assemble with the saints or meditate on God’s word? Does the security of additional dollars in the retirement account appear a better investment than the work of the church or helping those in need? Does a business meeting or ball practice seem preferable to a Bible study? These questions and those like them are painful, but important; they help to clarify whether one is fearing God and keeping His commandments or whether the lesser things have been idolized.
One who experienced his own “Ecclesiastes moment” had this to say: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21). In what surely was one of the most torturous moments a human could face, Job sat helplessly as everything he had counted important was removed. Faced with absolute loss, he questioned whether one could trust a God who seemingly takes it all. Though the journey was rough in reaching an answer, he testified at the end of his ordeal what the Ecclesiastes writer emphasized; he understood his whole duty was to fear God.
Will your water-stained diploma one day have a price tag on it as it lies on a store shelf? Will your most valued possessions go to the highest bidder at an auction? Will your loved ones dispose of mementoes that remind you of your important memories? Yes. “There is no remembrance of former things, nor will there be any remembrance of later things yet to be among those who come after” (Ecclesiastes 1:11). For the one who fears God, this is not depressing because it does not matter. The God-fearer spends life not for what rusts and decays but for what is eternal. When compared to the glories to be revealed, the accomplishments of this life will seem like nothing more than dusty trinkets on a junk store shelf.
