“Is this all there is?”
Each verse in Peggy Lee’s 1969 song describes a life event, such as going to the circus or falling in love. Such things seemed so grand at first, but they all left something missing—something elusive that didn’t fulfill its promise of enduring satisfaction. Each verse leads to the same chorus:
Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
If that’s all there is, my friends,
Then let’s keep dancing.
Let’s break out the booze and have a ball,
If that’s all—
There is.
Look around. What first felt like a “summer of discontent” has turned into decades. The dawn of a new century made many of us think hope was just around the corner. Instead, the average suicide rate rose 35 percent.
The reason? Hopelessness.
(Another) Age of Discontent
We’re the most advanced civilization in the history of the world. Did you know the chief mode of transportation 2,000 years ago was the same as 200 years ago? But we’ve catapulted from horseback to rocket ship in a mere two centuries. We have more information and greater technology at our fingertips than ever before. And what’s the result? We’re sick, scared, emotionally drained, and jumping from broken relationship to broken relationship in a society coming apart at the seams. We’re still in need of hope, purpose, moral guidance, and the fulfillment of justice (starting with agreement on what in the world that is). If there’s one thing that unites people on both sides of society’s ever-widening polarization, it’s this: we are all discontent. Something is amiss. We still have holes in our souls, and we can’t seem to fill them. We still long for something more.
We still have holes in our souls, and we can’t seem to fill them.
There are clues in our culture. Hopelessness is the theme of Green Day’s song Boulevard of Broken Dreams (2004), where Billy Joe sings “I walk alone. My shadow’s the only one that walks beside me.” Keep listening and you’ll hear this line in every chorus: “sometimes, I wish someone out there will find me. Til then, I walk alone.” Hopelessness is the theme of Harry Styles’ Sign of the Times (2017), where life is nothing more than feeling stuck and dodging bullets. “Just stop your crying,” says Harry, “it’s a sign of the times.” Keep listening, and you’ll hear the longing: “We gotta get away from here…We can meet again somewhere; somewhere far away from here.”
Hope. Peace. Contentment. We all long for these things. Youthfulness doesn’t last, money doesn’t heal all wounds, and technological advancements often make the problem worse. Every day—in our lives or in the news—we come face to face with the harshness of reality, the brutality of injustice, and the nagging question that won’t go away: “is this all there is?”
Fortunately, the answer is no.
Meaning from the Messiah
What if I told you that the God I serve—the God I found in Jesus Christ—provides the answer to the deepest longings of your heart? He can fill that hole in your soul that money, relationships, and even religion can’t fill.
Consider this one sentence in the ancient Gospel of John from the lips of Jesus of Nazareth:
“I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” (John 14:6).
Packed into these ten words are four remarkable claims lying at the heart of our deepest longings.
In a world full of fading dreams and plastic people, we long for something real. To satisfy our longing, Jesus says, “I am.” Have you ever asked yourself, “why is there something rather than nothing?” Every major science textbook will tell you the universe had a beginning. But a beginning cries out for an explanation. Music, poetry, and beauty in art and nature remind us that we are far more than a random collection of atoms. C. S. Lewis once said that we are hungry, and there is food; we are thirsty, and there is water. The universe can provide for those needs and our other desires, but we also long for something transcendent. This source of all beauty, truth, and goodness is what believers call “God.” Why would we think there is nothing to such a longing? Jesus declares we can see the personal side of God in his own words and life.
In a world full of atrocities and unfairness, we long for rules of fairness—a standard of right by which to judge all things. To satisfy our longing, Jesus says, “I am the way.” Consider the Nazi trials after the Holocaust. Every one of them obeyed the law of their land. So, what law did they violate? The prosecuting attorney, Robert Jackson, said there was a higher law that wasn’t bound to any place or time, but transcended them all. This only works if we believe in an objective moral law that applies across the board. There was a time when people denied objective moral law and found themselves in this dilemma. But we have now entered into a new era where most people have a clearly defined moral code and expect everyone else to get on board with it. But on what basis can people who are accidents, in a world with no inherent meaning, tell anyone else what they must or must not do? You need something above everyone, to whom everyone is accountable. You need a God for that. The God we see in Jesus proclaims that he is that test of justice, that standard of righteousness.
In a world full of lies and make-believe fairy tales, we long for truth. To satisfy our longing, Jesus says, “I am the truth.” Without truth, everything reduces to power games and manipulation. There are no unalienable rights, only competing claims. But beyond the heated rhetoric, we long to believe what is right and true. Let’s engage in a thought experiment. Suppose you’re happily married and I hand you an envelope. “In this envelope,” I say to you, “is absolute, 100% proof whether your spouse has ever cheated on you.” Not knowing of any unfaithfulness has been a major component in your happiness. Would you open the envelope? Most people, I imagine, would say “yes.” No amount of pleasure will satisfy our deepest longings. We still stand cold, naked, and alone—face to face with the nagging feeling that what we find pleasing can never measure up to what we find to be true. And Jesus says, “I am the truth.”
In a shallow culture that takes pride in glamorizing senseless activities, we long for meaning. To satisfy our longing, Jesus says, “I am the life.” One of the most important philosophers and atheists of the last century, Bertrand Russell, once said life is purposeless and devoid of meaning. We can begin to make sense of our life, says Russell, when it is built “only on the firm foundation of unyielding despair.” But we don’t want to live that way. Rodney Stark notes that 75 percent of people across the globe say they think about the meaning or purpose of life sometimes or often. Even more to the point—we can’t live that way. A Holocaust-surviving psychiatrist noted that what allows us to survive even in the most barren circumstances depends on whether we can find meaning in all aspects of our experience. It’s meaning that gives us a reason to continue living. And Jesus invites us to discover meaning in him.
Consider the God I see in Christ as the foundation of all reality, the source of all meaning, the root of justice, the ground of objectivity, and the definition of truth. Christianity suggests the very source of these things is not some cold, impersonal abstraction in the sky. He’s a living, loving God who meets us in the person of Jesus Christ. A God who became one of us, lived among us, died for us, and rose to provide a way toward ultimate happiness grounded in real, genuine, meaningful truth.
The Gospel Coalition