If there is one thing we’re perpetually concerned about, it’s relationships—and especially meaning “full” relationships. One of the top selling books right now is by David Brooks, titled “How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen.” Just think about that title for a moment. Just how deeply do we see other people? And how deeply are we willing to be seen? And how much of this have we really been “taught" or have we “caught."
Brooks writes, “The real act of, say, building a friendship or creating a community involves performing a series of small, concrete social actions well: disagreeing without poisoning the relationship; revealing vulnerability at the appropriate pace; being a good listener; knowing how to end a conversation gracefully; knowing how to ask for and offer forgiveness; knowing how to let someone down without breaking their heart; knowing how to sit with someone who is suffering; knowing how to host a gathering where everyone feels embraced; knowing how to see things from another’s point of view.”
He says we haven't been taught to give one another the attention each requires. Social media has lobotomized our ability to build trust, show care, and give affection. This is so huge… Brooks says that with social media “stimulation” has replaced “intimacy.” “There is judgement everywhere and understanding nowhere.” Regarding the AI craze he says, “Artificial intelligence is going to do many things for us in the decades ahead, and replace humans at many tasks, but one thing it will never be able to do is to create person-to-person connections. If you want to thrive in the age of AI, you better become exceptionally good at connecting with others.”
When I went to Bible College, I kind of fumbled around at first, I selected “youth ministry” as my major. I decided pretty quickly that wasn't my gig. I had goofed around my entire childhood. I always felt in youth ministry you had to devise a bunch of gimmicks, and play a bunch of games, in order to get to serious conversations about spiritual matters. I switched over to “preaching ministry" because I enjoyed interacting with adults. Growing up, I realized I didn't have a lot of peers my age. I worked for and with older people and talked to older people on my paper route and at church. There were only 1 or 2 kids in our youth group literally!
But later I did a Masters of Divinity because it was a well-rounded degree. It had for instance theology but also leadership, worship, spiritual formation, and counseling. But by the time I did my Doctorate, feeling a deficit in myself, I deep dived into interpersonal relationships. How can we really see another person, and help them feel seen? How can we let a person feel value, heard, and understood? I really think this will be the defining issue for the church, for evangelism… for life.
I could spend the morning summarizing David Brooks’ journey into the art of seeing and being seen, or knowing and being known. There are actually thousands of books out there. But in my own journey, I found the wisdom of Solomon most helpful. As I've grown in my own interpersonal effectiveness, I had the opportunity to coach hundreds of other leaders on the same subject—formally through the former Lincoln Christian University and Lincoln Christian Seminary, but also just in the course of pastoring. One of the assignments I give is to read Proverbs. Chapter by chapter, verse by verse. Write down (journal daily for a month) everything the Proverbs says about effectively relating to one another. That exercise will convince you of the gross deficits we have relationally! But it will also convict you to grow and do better.
The more I read about Solomon, the more paradoxical the man seems. Honestly, when I consider his lifestyle, I want to ask, “Should any of us be trying to learn anything from this man?” Yet despite his life, he was God's vessel. Despite his excesses, he spewed wisdom!
In Ecclesiastes, there is far less about relationships than Proverbs. I think Solomon offers two incredibly profound insights. The first is Solomon’s statement in Ecclesiastes 3:11 that God has “set eternity in the hearts of men.” We have this God given awareness that there is something—indeed someone—more significant that the transient things of this world. So far, we've talked about how transient our work, our achievements are.
I've got to tell you this story. About a month ago, somebody in Southern Illinois called me about doing a tree carving. I told the guy I wasn't interested—that it was too far away, I'd have to use vacation time, I'd have to get a hotel, it would take days. He was extremely insistent that this tree needed to be carved so I drove down and took a look. Let me just say, this guy lives in a mansion, and on acreage, that eclipses any property I've ever set foot on. It was hard not to be impressed. I asked the guy, “who designed this space… it’s just incredible.” He started walking me through his house—and all I could think about was Solomon. A part of me wants to be impressed, but another part is like, “wait a minute buddy—I know somewhere in you there is some sort of divine longing…a holy discontent.”
And then boom… he shows me this two-legged table he'd made. No, literally, it was a two-legged table. It was two life like legs, in blue jeans, wearing a pair of old boots. He said his wife was completely creeped out about it—but that the boots belong to his dad, and his dad loved that property, and worked on it his whole life, but he’d died. In that instant, that mansion shrunk to a tiny box!
I told the guy that I “understood” why he made that creepy table. I explained that when my dad died suddenly, I raced to our childhood home, and stayed the night with mom, just to be with her, and be a comfort. There's no bed in the house long enough for me… so I slept out in the living room, on the couch. And the couch of course, was right next to my dad's recliner chair, where he sat all day, every day. And at the foot of that recliner were his shoes, his worn out shoes… that he'd kicked off so casually that very morning. The sight of those shoes tore me up more than anything else… because dad was no longer walking on earth—and he wasn't ever going to need them again. Those shoes are etched in my memory, as a reminder of the transience of life forever. “Buddy, I get you!”
That guy is my next assignment—not to carve his tree—but to show him God has set eternity in his heart. That table reminds him that the clock is ticking when all of us must kick off our shoes like our earthly dads. But our only hope is that when we're done walking on this earth, we'll walk anew with God, for whom and by whom we've been created! The base line message of Ecclesiastes is that the most ultimate, most meaning “full” relationship we can have, is to be in awe of God, to fear him, as in respect, to obey him, to please him.
If I am concerned and alarmed by one thing—it’s that increasingly, Christianity is becoming more about stimulation, than intimacy with God. Much like Solomon in Ecclesiastes, we become so spiritual dead inside, we have this compulsion to be stimulated by every person, place, or thing under the sun. Novelty. We hope that new home, car, gadget, piece of furniture, vacation, lifestyle change, baby, achievements, promotions, mansion… will revive dead self. And then this is compounded by our church experience—everyone gravitates to the church with the most stimulating worship, music, programming, largess. I just want to scream sometimes… that if you'd find intimacy with God, God’s love for you will be stimulating enough to meaningfully fill your life with meaning.
The reason our church experiences are so wanting (or wanton)—is that God didn't create us for stimulating church experiences. He set eternity in our hearts that we'd never be content, and always long more deeply to walk with him!
Now Solomon's second insight is that just as we were created for relationship with God, so we were created for one another. If our most profound longing for divine love is our most ultimate need, a close second to that is our longing for human love. When God created man he declared, “it's not good that man be alone.” Adam already had God! He had paradise, a garden. He needed love.
I think of Sam Smith's lyric, “I need love because I'm just a man.” We need to know and be known… and not just by God, but by one another. Now you might say that relationships don't matter to you, but you'd only be lying to yourself. The only time we act like we don't care about relationships is when we've been hurt or disillusioned by someone. It’s only in the wake of grief, when we’re reeling from loss, or mending our wounds, that we might “act” so ambivalent about our need for love. But the truth is that our hearts ache eternally for love.
So, to Solomon's overarching point… or better yet to Jesus’ point, what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world yet forfeits his soul? One gains the whole world by achievement, like Solomon, but has no one to love? When I first started writing this message I was tempted to speak about marriage. And it’s true, we see it in Solomon's Song of Songs, God designed marriage to be one of the most fulfilling relationships this side of eternity. But we need to think more broadly…
Think for a moment the most terrifying things that you'd never want to go through alone. What would be hardest? Solomon plies us on this point…
There is an occasion for everything, and a time for every activity under heaven: 2 a time to give birth and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot; 3 a time to kill and a time to heal; a time to tear down and a time to build; 4 a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance; 5 a time to throw stones and a time to gather stones; a time to embrace and a time to avoid embracing; 6 a time to search and a time to count as lost; a time to keep and a time to throw away; 7 a time to tear and a time to sew; a time to be silent and a time to speak; 8 a time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 4:7-8, “Again, I saw futility under the sun: 8 There is a person without a companion, without even a son or brother, and though there is no end to all his struggles, his eyes are still not content with riches. “Who am I struggling for,” he asks, “and depriving myself of good things?” This too is futile and a miserable task.” From a selfish standpoint—does any of us really want to struggle alone? Jesus told us to love others as we'd like to treated. This is the cornerstone of empathy—it’s to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes. To see them, know them, understand them, and then to walk with them. But I also think herein lies one of the chief rules of the jungle. We really have two choices in life. Either love and be loved… know and be known… or neglect and be neglected… ignore and be ignored. When it comes to relationships we only reap what we sow. And it’s a bitter thing to come toward the end of life and realize it’s all been “Cat in the Cradle”, only about yourself and for yourself. Never about loving God, never about loving one another.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12, “Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their efforts. 10 For if either falls, his companion can lift him up; but pity the one who falls without another to lift him up. 11 Also, if two lie down together, they can keep warm; but how can one person alone keep warm? 12 And if someone overpowers one person, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not easily broken.” From these verses we can unpack a few benefits of relationships…
Benefit #1: Synergy. Solomon is not talking about simple addition here (i.e. 1+1=2). In the garden, alone, by himself, Adam reached a certain ceiling. But when God made a “helper” suitable for him their reward was exponential. Imagine if only they hadn’t sinned! Every year at the fairgrounds, Lara and I love watching the horse pulls. One horse can only pull so much weight on a sled. But when paired together, two horses can pull exponentially greater weight! It's cliché to say, but many is stronger than one; we is stronger than I. Later in Ecclesiastes 4:13 Solomon says, “Better is a poor but wise youth than an old but foolish king who no longer pays attention to warnings.” We're not better, not wiser, alone.
Benefit #2: Encouragement. I first read verse 10 literally. If either falls down on the ground, a companion can lift the other up. But another way to think of verse 10 is spiritually. Who picks us up when we’re discouraged? When we’ve really screwed up, when we've sinned, when we filled with shame, guilt, or anger?
Benefit #3: Warmth and Companionship. God himself declared, it is not good for man to be alone. Here again—we never feel so cold as when we’re left alone. We never feel so warm as when were together with family, friends, in presence of love. I'll tell you something I do habitually, especially on Sundays. I’m always looking for that person who isn’t interacting with anyone. Talk to them. Sit with them. Nobody should be left out in the cold.
Benefit #4: Safety and Protection. Solomon's point is true spiritually as much as physically– two or three companions are insurmountable. When I was younger, my brother Mike was being bullied by a certain kid. Once we rode our bikes 3-4 miles out in the country, and Mike's tormentor followed us, cursing at Mike. I kept telling Mike, “Hey, there are two of us and one of him. Let's rough him up!” We didn't have to rough him up. He was never going to pick fight with two.
But Solomon makes a profound statement—a cord of three strands, now that is not easily broken! My first thought was to think about the relationships of Jesus. Jesus had one very close companion—his disciple John. You don't have to be married, or have a sexual relationship, to enjoy meaning-full intimacy. David had Jonathan—and considered Jonathan a better friend and companion than any wife!
But among the disciples, Jesus let “three” in closer than all the other twelve. Peter, James, and John. Jesus had his “one,” he had his “three”, he had his “twelve.” The Bible tells us Jesus was followed by larger 70, then later 120, then 500. On Pentecost thousands came to Jesus in faith. There are rings of intimacy and identity.
If you are married, your one is your spouse. In marriage I know and am known in a way nobody else will ever know me. But I hope you develop three profoundly deep friendships where you share your life. Three strands can be a metaphor for God himself—the Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God’s bond is unbreakable—he is ONE. But this is also a prescription for us. In Matthew 18:20 Jesus says, “For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”
I hope you get into a small group of 12 where you can grow and be challenged. Your twelve is your spiritual family! Seventy people is the maximum number of people the average person may greet through the course of their week. Seventy is your true church size. 120 is the number of people you actually pay attention to and probably gossip about (including family). 500 is your circle of acquaintances—with a little effort you recall their name, relationship, or connection. 5000 is the number of people you might recognize their face, but not their name.
We all have profound relational deficits—but God has brought us to together in unity first of all with Himself (Father, Son, and Spirit)… but then he has united us together spiritually as 2s, 3s, 12s, 70s, 120s, 500s, even 1000s that we might know and be known, love and be loved, serve and be served, warm and be warmed, encourage and be encouraged, protect and be protected. But no, there no lone ranger. Even the lone ranger had one other. Resist the urge to let relationships dissolve. Build up one another in Christ. Let no one stand alone.