The Grammar of Worship: Fearing God in His House Text: Ecclesiastes 5:1-7
Introduction: The Folly of Casual Christianity
We live in an age of casual worship. We have traded the holy fear of the living God for a sentimental, therapeutic get-together. The modern evangelical church, in many quarters, has become a place where we go to feel better about ourselves, to have an "experience," and to be assured that God is our cosmic buddy. We approach the throne of the universe as though we were sliding into a booth at a diner. Our songs are often more about our feelings than about God's objective glory, and our prayers are frequently a rambling, thoughtless stream of consciousness. We have forgotten where we are, and to Whom we are speaking.
The Preacher in Ecclesiastes confronts this spiritual sloppiness head-on. This passage is a bucket of ice water thrown on the face of a sleepy, self-centered church. It is a series of sharp, staccato commands designed to teach us the basic grammar of worship. And the central, foundational verb in this grammar is "fear." If you do not begin with the fear of God, all your religious activity is nothing more than the sacrifice of fools. You might be busy, you might be sincere, you might even be emotional, but you are a fool, and you do not even have the self-awareness to know that what you are doing is evil.
This passage is not here to make us feel comfortable. It is here to make us holy. It is here to remind us of the infinite qualitative distinction between heaven and earth, between the Creator and the creature. It is a call to shut our mouths, guard our steps, pay our vows, and tremble before the God who made us. This is not the end of joy, but rather the only possible beginning of it. For there is no true worship, no true communion, and no true blessing apart from a right and holy fear of the Lord.
The Text
Guard your steps as you go to the house of God and draw near to listen rather than to offer the sacrifice of fools; for they do not know they are doing evil. Do not be hasty with your mouth or impulsive in your heart to bring up a matter in the presence of God. For God is in heaven but you are on the earth; therefore let your words be few. For the dream comes through abundant endeavor and the voice of a fool through abundant words. When you make a vow to God, do not be late in paying it; for He takes no delight in fools. Pay what you vow! It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not pay. Do not allow your mouth to cause your flesh to sin, and do not say in the presence of the messenger of God that it was a mistake. Why should God be angry on account of your voice and wreak destruction on the work of your hands? For in many dreams and vanities are many words. Rather, fear God.
(Ecclesiastes 5:1-7 LSB)
Your Feet and Your Ears (v. 1)
The instruction begins before a word is ever spoken. It begins with your feet.
"Guard your steps as you go to the house of God and draw near to listen rather than to offer the sacrifice of fools; for they do not know they are doing evil." (Ecclesiastes 5:1)
To "guard your steps" means to be deliberate, to be intentional, to be prepared. You are not wandering into just any building; you are approaching the house of God. This is consecrated ground. This requires a different posture than the one you use to go to the grocery store. It requires self-examination. It means you have considered where you are going and why. The casual, last-minute, thoughtless rush into the sanctuary is a violation of this first command.
And what is the purpose of this careful approach? It is to "draw near to listen." The primary posture of a creature before his Creator is receptive. We come to hear a word from God, not to give Him a piece of our mind. Worship is fundamentally about revelation, not self-expression. God speaks, and we listen. But the fool reverses this. The fool comes to be heard. He is full of his own thoughts, his own needs, his own agenda. He offers the "sacrifice of fools," which is a religious performance devoid of a listening heart. Think of Cain. He brought an offering, but his heart was not right with God. He was not there to listen. And the text gives a chilling diagnosis of such a person: "they do not know they are doing evil." The fool is so insulated by his own self-righteous activity that he is blind to the wickedness of his heart. He thinks his religious busyness pleases God, when in fact, it is an abomination.
Your Mouth and Your Place (v. 2-3)
From the feet and ears, the Preacher moves to the mouth, grounding his command in the most fundamental theological reality.
"Do not be hasty with your mouth or impulsive in your heart to bring up a matter in the presence of God. For God is in heaven but you are on the earth; therefore let your words be few." (Ecclesiastes 5:2 LSB)
This is a direct assault on thoughtless, babbling prayer. "Hasty" and "impulsive" describe a heart that is not governed by reverence. It is a heart that treats God as a peer, a cosmic suggestion box into which we dump all our verbal clutter. But look at the reason given. It is the bedrock of all sane theology: the Creator/creature distinction. "For God is in heaven but you are on the earth." This is not merely a statement about geography. It is a statement about ontology, about being. God is infinite, holy, omniscient, and sovereign. You are finite, sinful, ignorant, and dependent. There is an unbridgeable gulf between His being and yours. That reality must govern how you speak to Him.
Therefore, "let your words be few." This is not a prohibition against long prayers, but against empty ones. It is a call for our words to be weighty, considered, and born of a humble heart. It stands in stark contrast to the pagan idea, which Jesus also condemned, that we will be heard for our "many words" (Matt. 6:7). God is not impressed by volume or verbosity. He is listening to the heart. Verse three provides a parallel: just as a multitude of business affairs leads to anxious dreams, a multitude of words reveals a foolish heart. A fool's mouth is always running, and it betrays the emptiness within.
Your Vows and Your Integrity (v. 4-6)
The Preacher now applies this principle of verbal gravity to the specific act of making vows.
"When you make a vow to God, do not be late in paying it; for He takes no delight in fools. Pay what you vow! It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not pay." (Ecclesiastes 5:4-5 LSB)
A vow is a solemn promise made to God. In a world of cheap talk, God demands verbal integrity. When you speak a promise into His presence, He records it and expects you to fulfill it. To do otherwise is to be a fool, and the text is blunt: "He takes no delight in fools." Your word matters. This is the foundation of a covenantal worldview. Our God is a God who makes promises and keeps them. He is a covenant-keeping God. For us to be His people means that we must also be a promise-keeping people. To make a vow lightly and break it easily is to act like a pagan, not a child of the covenant.
The standard is incredibly high: "It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not pay." God is not interested in your grandiose but empty promises. He prefers honest silence to hypocritical speech. Then in verse 6, the warning becomes severe.
"Do not allow your mouth to cause your flesh to sin, and do not say in the presence of the messenger of God that it was a mistake. Why should God be angry on account of your voice and wreak destruction on the work of your hands?" (Ecclesiastes 5:6 LSB)
Your mouth can lead your whole life into sin. And when you are called to account by the priest or pastor ("the messenger of God"), do not offer the pathetic excuse that it was a "mistake" or you "didn't mean it." This is the language of spiritual immaturity. God heard what you said. To lie about your promise is to compound the sin. And the consequences are terrifying. Your faithless words can provoke the holy anger of God and result in Him wrecking everything you are trying to build. Words are not just vibrations in the air; they are covenantal acts that have real-world consequences.
The Sum of the Matter (v. 7)
The Preacher concludes this section by sweeping all the foolish chatter together and giving us the one, central, foundational command.
"For in many dreams and vanities are many words. Rather, fear God." (Ecclesiastes 5:7 LSB)
All this empty talk, all these anxious ambitions, all this religious noise, it is all vanity. It is vapor, a puff of smoke. It amounts to nothing. After diagnosing the disease of the foolish mouth, he gives the only cure, stated in two powerful words: "Fear God."
This is the beginning of wisdom. This is the foundation of true worship. This is the proper orientation of the creature to the Creator. This fear is not the cowering dread of a slave before a tyrant. It is the reverent, trembling, jaw-dropping awe of a finite and sinful man standing in the presence of an infinitely holy and majestic God. It is a fear that purges frivolity. It is a fear that produces silence. It is a fear that cultivates integrity. Without this fear, your religion is a sham, your prayers are an insult, and your vows are a lie. Everything else is just words, words, words, signifying nothing.
The Gospel Fear
Reading this, we should all begin to tremble. Who among us has not been hasty with his mouth? Who has not made impulsive promises in a moment of religious fervor, only to forget them later? Who has perfectly guarded his steps? This passage, like all of God's holy law, serves to shut our mouths. It drives us to the inescapable conclusion that on our own, we are all fools before God. We cannot worship rightly.
And this is precisely where the gospel meets us. For there was one man who was not a fool. There was one man who perfectly feared His Father. Jesus Christ guarded His steps. He drew near to listen, saying, "not My will, but Yours, be done." His words were never few because they were empty, but they were always perfectly measured and true. He made the ultimate vow, to drink the cup of God's wrath for His people, and He paid that vow to the last drop when He cried, "It is finished!"
Because He paid the vow we could not pay, we who are in Him are no longer regarded as fools. We are accepted as sons. And this transforms our fear. We are no longer driven by a servile fear of condemnation, but by a filial fear of our holy and loving Father. We fear to displease Him not because He is a tyrant, but because He is a good Father who has rescued us at an infinite cost. The gospel does not eliminate the fear of God; it purifies it. It makes true worship possible for the first time.
Therefore, let us come to the house of God, not with the casual arrogance of fools, but with the quiet, joyful, trembling reverence of children who know they are standing in the presence of their great and glorious Father, all because of the Son who paid our debt. Let us learn to shut up and listen. Let us learn to fear God.