Ecclesiastes 2:17
So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind.

My childhood hero was Mickey Mantle. I idolized the New York Yankee from Commerce, Oklahoma. I read a paperback biography of Mantle so many times that the book literally fell apart. When the Yankees played on the Saturday Game of the Week, announced by Curt Gowdy and Tony Kubek, I was parked in front of the TV from the first pitch to the last out. Every night during baseball season, I watched the sports broadcast to see if the Yankees had won. Mantle represented all that was good in my young mind—a small town boy who made it big, playing with damaged knees and through injuries, winning 7 World Series (I learned later that Mantle was a bit of a scoundrel). By the way, Tunch Ilkin idolized Mantle, too. Tunch told of a time when he saw Mantle in a New York restaurant. Tunch, the NFL All-Pro, said he revered Mantle so much he couldn’t bring himself to say “hello” or ask for an autograph.

Long after Mantle retired from baseball, he made appearances for an insurance company in Dallas. Lori and I had a friend who worked for the same company. She interacted with him often and intimated that he was the rudest, crudest, and most miserable man she had ever met. She said he felt used at every appearance. It seemed he hated life. (Although she did get me a signed baseball, “To Ron, Mickey Mantle.”)

Although Mantle could never be described as the wisest man who ever lived, his life resembled Solomon’s. He wasn’t the king, but he and his Yankee teammates “owned” New York City during the heydays of Yankee success. He could fill a stadium with people but couldn’t satisfy his empty heart, although he tried with wine, women, and song. He chased after the wind, basically drinking himself to the grave. 

When he was sixty-three years old, Mantle lay dying in a Dallas hospital. A former Yankee teammate, Bobby Richardson, went to see him. Richardson was a strong believer and had shared Jesus with Mantle many times. But on this day, as his short, elusive, confusing, and wearisome life was coming to an end, Mantle was willing to listen. And that day, according to Richardson’s account, Mantle trusted in Jesus as his Savior. When Richardson told his wife, she didn’t believe him. So, she went back the next day to the hospital to confirm what her husband had told her. 

The “best” life. The life of the world’s heroes, those we look up to while we live under the sun, is grievous. When you finally get to where you think you want to go and get ready to grab what you’ve been chasing, you find that nothing is there. It is like striving after the wind. But…Jesus changes everything. Whether the thief on the cross or a man whose indulgent and disobedient life destroyed his body, Jesus gives us a new life, a new heart, makes us a new creation, and ushers us into his presence. What love! What grace!

Father, the life of a childhood hero is yet another reminder of the utter futility of trying to find meaning and satisfaction apart from you. Forgive us for thinking that this life under the sun has anything eternal to offer. May our lives always start with Jesus so he can fill us with an over the sun perspective during our years on this earth. In Jesus’ name. Amen.