The Elephant in the (School) Room

The roots of nihilism, the belief that nothing has meaning, rendering all values and absolute certainties as baseless, is typically traced back to the Stoics in the middle of the fourth century B.C. I submit that we can go actually go back a little farther, to the mid-tenth century B.C. Solomon, the third king of Israel begins Ecclesiastes with an observation that is repeated often throughout that book:

“… vanity of vanities, All is vanity.”  - Ecclesiastes 1:2 (ESV), or

            “… Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.”  - Ecclesiastes 1:2 (NIV)

Of course, Solomon’s concept of nihilism existed within a limited sphere. It was restricted to a quest for meaning “under the sun.” Everything changed when “under the sun” gave way to a more transcendent view of reality.

Now all has been heard;
            here is the conclusion of the matter:
Fear God and keep his commandments,
            for this is the duty of all mankind.
For God will bring every deed into judgment,
            including every hidden thing,
            whether it is good or evil.  – Ecclesiastes 12:13, 14

Solomon’s observation came from a well-informed place. He had sought meaning in pleasure, success, wealth, knowledge; just about every endeavor one can think of “under the sun.” In fact, with an I.Q. and resources matched by few, Solomon did not simply pursue such things, he achieved them all. Still, everything he attained added up to a big fat zero at the end of the day when the transcendent had been erased from his various quests.

Another school shooting has left a shaken nation searching for answers. Every argument for and against more gun control has been regurgitated. Every internet meme from both sides of that issue has been posted. Those who insist that the problem rests in our social values are tolerated but not particularly heard amidst all the competing noise.

Shout me down if you wish, but I lay the blame at the feet of a secularistic, evolutionary-based mindset that permeates education, media and, inevitably, the culture at large. God “has put eternity into man’s heart” (Ecclesiastes 3:11). The spirit of this age is doing all it can to eviscerate that awareness from man’s thoughts.

I can understand the need for the classroom to be a neutral place in terms of religion. I cannot quite wrap my head around why it must be a hostile place to the matter. When evolution is presented, quite generously, in the classroom as “science,” and design is banished from that same classroom as “myth,” there will be and have been consequences that must be faced.

Nothing could fuel a conclusion of meaninglessness in my heart more than the idea that my existence is the result of a series of chemical accidents. Nothing could make my life seem more arbitrary than thinking that truth and moral absolutes are just random constructs of various cultures. If eternity is gutted from human thought, society becomes a breeding ground for abhorrent misbehavior (that is, if any behavior can rightfully and objectively be judged “abhorrent”).

Would not a true nihilist so resent the restrictiveness of arbitrary constructs that he would either a) live only for the moment or, b) seek to destroy that which he resents?

Many who would never claim to be nihilists live only for the moment. They acquire wealth. They collect stuff. They worship entertainment and recreation. They may even achieve what Abraham Maslow in his famous hierarchy of needs called “self-actualization.” In other words, they become all that they have the potential to be.

Maslow published his hierarchy in 1943. It is interesting to me that in his later years, he began to explore a higher need, that of transcendence, a desire to reach the infinite. Could it be that even the fully self-actualized individual, at the end of it all asks, “Is this all there is”? If any man ever achieved self-actualization, it was Solomon, and his verdict was, “This is all vain emptiness.” It seems to me that the nihilist just beats the rest of his secular peers to the inevitable conclusion that they will each one day face: without God in the equation, everything really is meaningless.

I am no Solomon. I do not have his financial resources. I am bright enough to get by, but no one travels the globe to learn at my feet. I do not have his striking presence (Solomon’s folks were both quite attractive, so I am giving his genetics the benefit of the doubt.) In addition, I probably suffer from an overactive mind, and I am also a strong introvert. All of this causes me to wonder where I might be without a sense of the transcendent, that is, without a sense that I am connected to my Creator by the intermediary work of His Son.

If I were a little depressed, what would it take for me to descend into hopelessness and off myself? If I were a little obsessed, what would it take for me to take someone I “love” with me? If I were a little angry, what would it take for me to take out as many others as I can? After all, everything is meaningless. Life is cheap. Rules are arbitrary constructs.

Several years ago, the secular world poked fun at a faddish Christian mantra, “Jesus is the Answer,” by responding, “What is the question?” We should have been more prepared, for the questions are replete:

Is there a God? What is He like? Can I be on His good side? What does life after death hold? How should I live now? What is the ultimate meaning of life? What is my value as a human being? Where did I come from? Where am I going?

In Jesus, all of these are answered and many more.