Each ticking of the clock is like a paper-cut to the soul of a man. At least that’s what I’ve been thinking a bit recently.
I’ve been subscribing to GQ magazine as the most popular men’s magazine in the UK (woof!) and I’ve been amazed by how many watch adverts there are in it. In last month’s issue the first 10 pages had 8 separate advertisments for timepieces and across the rest of the magazine every third advert was for a watch. I couldn’t believe it. I was expecting cars to be the things most often wafted under the noses of men. Either that or some fragrance that would guarantee you hot sex with some very skinny woman. But no, it is the watch that takes pride of place.
I wonder what it is that makes a finely crafted watch so desirable? Maybe it is simply because it is one of the few pieces of jewelry that most men wear. But I think there is something deeper to it as well. I think it is an attempt to redeem the fleeting nature of life.
The Teacher bonked the nail firmly on the head when he said in Ecclesiastes that everything is meaningless. And the word ‘meaningless’ in the Hebrew language conveys a sense of evaporating mist. It is a slightly depressing fact of life that no matter how toned your six-pack becomes, it will be wrinkly and/or flabby in 20 years time (I’m talking about your six-pack, not mine - mine will never be less obvious than it is now...). And no matter how many times you are promoted at work, you will one day see a younger pup coming along and take your place. And no matter how much time you pour into your family, your great-grandchildren will very likely not even remember your name. No matter how virile and bombastic you manage to be in life, in the long run you will be dead and forgotten.
And I think we men really get cut up about that. I certainly do. I like to think that I am making my mark on this universe. I don’t like to be reminded that every second that ticks by is a second closer to my mark disappearing away like a hand imprint on a wet sponge. Each one of those tick tocks is like an assault on my soul. They really hurt. And so my desire is either to find some way of forgetting about the passing of time or to find a way of redeeming it. And so I buy an expensive watch. A watch that I can pass on to my ancestors. A watch that is grand and shiny and which assures me of how important and successful and significant I am even at the same time that it is reminding me that I am like a mist.
But as The Teacher says (in a bit of a paraphrase), buying an expensive watch is just like chasing after the wind; it is trying to redeem something that cannot be redeemed. My watch is lying to me when it suggests to me that I am not like a vapour.
And yet, thank the sweet Lord Jesus, it does not end there. The yearning for eternity is not just a futile yearning. The desire to make a mark does not have to be frustrated for ever. We can indeed become more than a vapour. For it is God who has put eternity in the desires of all men, and He is not just a sadist. And it is in the Ageless One; it is in the Maker of the Beginning and the Maker of the End; it is in Eternal God that we can find redemption for our fleeting existence. In God, in fear of Him and obedience to his commandments can we overcome the trifling insignificance of our years on earth. For He calls us to step into his eternal river of life. He has beckoned us to join with him in his everlasting purposes. Not by buying watches. Not by getting promoted at work. And not by just praying either. He bids us to store up eternal riches for ourselves by asking us to fight for the salvation of our colleagues and neighbours, to strain every sinew in tackling injustice and to push hard to build up others in their faith.
When we choose to co-labour with Christ we can be assured of this - even though these blokes’ great-grandchildren won’t remember us, Our Great God will. And he will reward us for every single effort we make for Him.
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