The quest for meaning is often glamorized as a brave pursuit that leads the ardent searcher to a happy life. But perhaps the most renowned example of this quest is opposingly narrated as a bleak and devastating journey, a narrative found in the holiest book in human history. That book is Ecclesiastes—a book whose haunting refrain echoes eerily in films like the nuclear nightmare of Threads (1984). The author, Qoheleth, sets out in pursuit of the meaning of life. But what he finds is just this: threads of meaning.
Threads (1984): The Most Disturbing Film You Haven’t Seen
A few months ago, I watched what is sometimes considered the most disturbing movie ever made. That is a 1984 BBC television film titled Threads. The night of its release, September 23rd, 1984, has been considered “the night the country didn’t sleep.”[1] Threads provides an evocative and awakening depiction of what horrors a nuclear holocaust could produce.
Now, I am a lover of movies from the 1980s (Beverly Hills Cop, anyone?) and gruesome horror movies (I’ll write a post on the Saw franchise one of these days). However, if we are being honest, 80s movies are the cheesiest of the cheese. Consequently, I did not go into Threads expecting to be frightened. Yet here I am, 5 months later, and I still cannot get its graphic depictions of societal decay out of my mind.
The film, for months now, has forced me to grapple with the fragility of life, the horrors of what corrupt politicians are capable of, and remind me of a familiar message. The message of my favorite biblical book, the one I am soon to begin my thesis on, Ecclesiastes.
Life is Bleak, Life is Vanity
Threads begins on a happy note. Two lovebirds are planning for their marriage. Their families are rejoicing for their joining together. Meanwhile, the USSR invades Iran, sparking a global conflict. Subsequently, over the course of weeks, this escalates to a series of nuclear strikes launched on Britain. The imagery… I will never forget.
Ecclesiastes, on the other hand, does not start off on a happy note, at least not in its final form. Indeed, many of us are familiar with the opening monologue of Ecclesiastes:
“Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher,
Vanity of vanities! All is vanity.” Ecclesiastes 1:2, NRSVue
Or, as the NIV alternatively puts it:
“’Meaningless! Meaningless!’
Says the Teacher.
‘Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless.’” Ecclesiastes 1:2, NIV
Space does not allow for a full treatment of the many and varied interpretations of hebel, the Hebrew word translated as vanity, meaningless, absurd, etc. Nevertheless, very few idioms in Scripture capture my interest as well as Ecclesiastes 1:2. I cannot briefly explain its meaning, but I can say that no words in the Hebrew Bible resonate so well as this.
Throughout my life, I have pursued meaning, as Qoheleth did many centuries ago. Perhaps never more than in the last 7 years that I have tediously studied the theology of suffering. As a result, the words of the Teacher, that for years daunted me, have now become the most accurate summation of my theology.
From the very first chapter, the Teacher links wisdom to sorrow (1:18), a claim that echoes through Threads’ unraveling of society—and perhaps, through my own unraveling too.
No Order, No Justice… For All is Vanity
One of the most common themes in Ecclesiastes is oppression, appearing at least four times (4:1; 5:8; 7:7; 8:9). The first two passages hold a significant place in my planned thesis. In 4:1, Qoheleth observes oppression. This verse contains what I find to be one of the most striking statements in Scripture, the Teacher cries, “Look, the tears of the oppressed—with no one to comfort them!” In the Septuagint, the Greek word literally meaning “one who comforts” (παρακαλῶν) frequently carries divine connotations. Is the author therefore suggesting that Elohim is not, realistically, near to the brokenhearted and oppressed?
In 5:8, he paints an image of this oppression, writing, “If you see in a province the oppression of the poor and the violation of justice and right, do not be amazed at the matter, for the high official is watched by a higher, and there are yet higher ones over them.” From where does unjust suffering arise? From the hands of the corrupt in power.
I find it quite interesting to read these passages in light of Threads. Indeed, the film presents the starkest portrayal of oppression I have ever seen. Because of corrupt world leaders, the innocents, if one truly can be innocent, suffer physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Moreover, because of the love of money, land, and power, civilization collapses and is reduced to a primitive way of life.
People loot and steal. Newborns enter the world with birth defects. Food is potentially deadly due to the extreme levels of radiation. The economy crashes. The environment all but dies. And the life expectancy of all human beings is significantly reduced.
The thought alone is bleak. The depiction, presented in Ecclesiastes and in Threads, is grim and devastating. This is one possible meaning of hebel, of vanity, of meaninglessness.
The Fallout Within – My Own Experience
I can write, and have written, of many different examples of my own mental and spiritual fallout. The loss of my mother, which in turn produced a crippling depression, which in turn produced a physical and mental dependence on alcohol, which in turn produced attempts to take my own life. My mother’s death was the nuclear bomb; the catastrophic aftermath nearly led to my demise.
But one more thing that I can attribute to my personal fallouts I named at the outset of this post: the search for meaning. The death of my mother at such a young age was catastrophic. And, the news of her diagnosis, 7 years ago next month, was equally calamitous. But immediately after that news, I abandoned my dreams. I needed to know why, why God could allow suffering. What the hell was the meaning of this pain?
In pursuing this question, I lost what had always been the most important thing in my life: my faith. Peace? Connection? Meaning? These were all lost in my pursuit of the reason for my suffering.
Speaking from experience, people scoff when they hear that I lost my faith in pursuit of answers. But losing faith is NOT what the Christian Hollywood makes it out to be. I did not have one great, big “A-ha!” moment that led me to abandon my faith. It was a long, drawn-out process. It led to hospitalization, to detox, to struggling to find who I am once more.
I do not consider myself a “proud agnostic.” I consider myself an unfortunate agnostic. One who found too many “answers” that could not be reconciled. And as the bombs in Threads forever shaped the world, so did the bombs upon my faith change the entire trajectory of my life.
Is it the Quest itself?
I sometimes wonder if it is the quest itself that has undone me. Is it possible that sorrow is not merely the result of loss, but the natural outcome of trying to understand that loss? As the Teacher confesses, “For in much wisdom is much vexation; and those who increase knowledge increase sorrow” (Eccl. 1:18). I have increased knowledge, but I have not found peace.
What is Left: Embers and Echoes
My story has not ended, and I hope that it does not for a very long time. I do not wish to provide false hope, as I stand firm in my agnosticism, but that does not mean I have given up on my quest. I maintain a hope, perhaps a helpless hope but perhaps not, that maybe one day I will find my answer. Not the answer (as that is subjective), but my answer.
What is left, amidst the bombs, are embers. This post is one of them. This blog does not attract a ton of traffic, but I continue to write (scantly, due to my education and employment). But I continue to write. It helps me cope. And it helps me make sense of what one cannot make sense of.
In the end, as I continue this tragic search for meaning, I echo the words of Qoheleth, that all is vanity. As many eyebrows as that statement may raise, let us not forget: what, truly, does vanity even mean? Maybe it is just that, vanity. Maybe it is meaninglessness. Or maybe, just maybe, it is the scattered Threads of meaning we hold onto amid the fallout.
[1] Ross Davies, “Was Threads the scariest TV show ever made?” BBC, September 26, 2019. https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20190925-was-threads-the-scariest-tv-show-ever-made