Reflections from the Driver’s Seat: Ecclesiastes, a Rolls Royce, and Life in Christ
When I was contemplating purchasing a Rolls Royce Phantom, a car renowned not only for its opulent luxury but for the sheer artistry of its craftsmanship, my thoughts wandered toward the book of Ecclesiastes. This majestic automobile—handcrafted by artisans skilled in metal and leatherwork, a moving testament to human creativity—represents, in many ways, the pinnacle of automotive beauty. It is not necessarily the most advanced engineering feat but rather a rolling masterpiece, a celebration of excellence. And yet, the words of Ecclesiastes whispered in my mind, tempering the allure of such splendor with the truth that life is fleeting.
Ecclesiastes 1 reminds us that everything under the sun is but a breath—transient, passing, and ultimately unable to provide eternal fulfillment. “What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?” Solomon asks. These words weigh heavily on any decision about worldly possessions, particularly one as extravagant as a Rolls Royce. The house we cherish will crumble, the car will rust, and within two generations, even our names may fade from memory.
So why, then, did I purchase the Phantom? Why do I find such joy in it? And why do I feel that this car is not a fleshly indulgence but something more—a mirror of my walk with the Lord?
Grace, Freedom, and the Fleeting Nature of Life
The Lord has blessed us in ways we could never deserve. Grace is not simply about provision for our needs—it is also about the freedom to enjoy the good things of life as gifts from His hand. The Rolls Royce, though fleeting in its existence like all things under the sun, has become a tangible reminder for me to savor the life God has given me, moment by moment. Ecclesiastes calls us to live with the humility of knowing that life is a vapor while also embracing the simple, God-given pleasures along the way.
In that sense, the Phantom is more than a car to me. It is an experience, a destination rather than just a means of getting from point A to point B. When I drive it, my pace slows. I find myself driving the speed limit—or even below it—not because I feel obligated but because something about the experience calms me. My heart rate drops, and I feel an astonishingly deep sense of peace. It is as though the car itself invites me to linger in the moment, to cherish the journey rather than rush to the destination.
The Joy of the Journey
This sense of slowing down, of truly resting, mirrors what the Lord has been teaching me about life in Him. For years, I lived under the weight of depression and anxiety, driven by the tyranny of self-reliance. But in Christ, I have learned to exchange that restless striving for His life of grace and sufficiency. The Rolls Royce, in a small but meaningful way, reflects that spiritual truth. Driving it reminds me to be present, to savor the journey, to trust that life doesn’t have to be a race.
Like my walk with the Lord, driving the Phantom isn’t about impressing others or achieving some worldly goal. It’s about resting in the gifts of grace, appreciating the beauty of the moment, and acknowledging that all good things come from His hand. Just as I no longer strive to earn my place in Christ, I don’t need to justify the car as a necessity or defend it against the charge of indulgence. It is, quite simply, a gift that brings joy and rest to my life.
A Reflection of Eternity
There’s another layer to this experience, one that ties back to Ecclesiastes. Solomon reminds us of the futility of life “under the sun,” but as believers, we are not limited to this perspective. In Christ, we live with the hope of eternity, where every fleeting pleasure finds its fulfillment and every shadowy reflection becomes clear.
The craftsmanship of the Phantom—the attention to detail, the care taken by skilled artisans—reminds me of the beauty of God’s creation and the eternal excellence of His work. If human hands can create something so awe-inspiring, how much more does our heavenly Father craft our lives with intentionality and care?
In the end, I know the Rolls Royce will rust, and it will one day be forgotten. But the joy it brings me now is a reminder of the eternal joy that awaits in Christ. It points me toward the ultimate destination, where rest, peace, and beauty will no longer be fleeting but everlasting.
Living in Grace, Driving in Grace
The Phantom is not a symbol of indulgence for me but of grace. It reminds me that life is fleeting, that everything I have is a gift, and that in Christ, I have the freedom to enjoy His blessings with gratitude. It invites me to slow down, to savor the journey, and to rest in the peace that only He can give.
Ecclesiastes taught me to hold loosely to the things of this world while fully appreciating the moments of joy God provides. And so, I drive the Rolls Royce with a grateful heart, knowing that even this small pleasure is a foretaste of the eternal joy to come. Life in Christ is a life of grace, and every journey—whether in a car or in faith—is worth savoring to the fullest.