Our Circus, Our Monkeys: What Ecclesiastes 4 Says About Justice

There's a saying in our culture: "Not my circus, not my monkeys." It's a helpful reminder that we aren't the authority in every situation. If someone else's kids are acting up, it's not my job to discipline them. If store employees aren't doing their jobs, it's not up to me to manage them, since I'm not their boss. If there's small-town drama I'm not part of, I might grab the popcorn, but I won't interfere. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

But what if it is my circus? What if these are my monkeys? Then I can't throw up my hands and complain that someone should do something. I'm the ringleader. It's my job.

The Teacher's Lament

That question sits at the heart of Ecclesiastes 4. In the opening verse, the Teacher makes this observation:

"Again, I observed all the acts of oppression being done under the sun. Look at the tears of those who are oppressed; they have no one to comfort them. Power is with those who oppress them; they have no one to comfort them."

I feel the weight of that lament. It's heart-rending to witness abuse, oppression, injustice, and violence while feeling powerless to stop any of it. Ask any social worker, therapist, teacher, or doctor who sees the worst of humanity on a regular basis. There's only so much one person can do.

Not much has changed since Ecclesiastes was written. Chapter 4 could have been composed for 2026 instead of centuries before Christ. We still live in a world of oppression, violence, injustice, and indifference. Bob Pierce, the missionary who founded Samaritan's Purse in 1970, prayed a now-famous prayer after visiting suffering children in Korea: "Let my heart be broken with the things that break the heart of God." The Teacher in Ecclesiastes 4 is heartbroken over the same things. His implied question is simple: who can do anything about it?

Let's widen the lens and let Scripture answer that question. Whose circus is this? Whose monkeys are these?

A New Kind of Society

When God brought his people out of Egypt, he didn't want them to become Egypt in a new location. Israel's leaders weren't supposed to act like Pharaoh, and the people were meant to treat each other, and foreigners, better than they had been treated as slaves.

Much of the Torah's law establishes a new kind of society: widows and orphans cared for, the enslaved set free, justice upheld for rich and poor alike, and foreigners treated as native-born citizens.

So the first answer to "whose job is it to lift up the oppressed?" is all of us. Israel didn't start out as a monarchy. God was king, the priests taught and guided the people, and the whole system ran bottom-up rather than top-down.

That's why, in 1 Samuel 8, when the people ask for a king like the other nations, God tells Samuel plainly that this request amounts to rejecting God as king. More on that in a moment.

The bottom-up system held together, more or less, through the wilderness years under Moses and the conquest under Joshua. Then it fell apart. The book of Judges is a case study in what happens without centralized government, when everyone does what's right in their own eyes. The result is chaos.

When the People Ask for a King

So the people ask for a king, and that system turns out to be a double-edged sword. A king can hold a society together with real authority. He can also abuse that authority, and Scripture shows us both sides.

Interestingly, the Old Testament gives instructions for a future king before Israel ever asked for one. In Deuteronomy 17, God, through Moses, lays out expectations: this king should not build up armies for himself, gather excessive horses and chariots, hoard silver and gold, or take many wives.

(Which raises an eyebrow when you remember what we know about Solomon.)

The king God envisions is devoted to the Law, reads it, lives by it, and never sets himself above the rest of the people.

Reality, of course, looks different. In 1 Samuel 8, Samuel warns the people exactly what a king will cost them: he'll tax their land, conscript their sons for war and labor, and put their daughters to work in his household. Power concentrates at the top, and the people give up freedoms in exchange.

The people say, "Sign us up anyway." What follows is centuries of kings who sinned, failed, and abused their power in various ways. Only a handful, out of roughly four hundred years of monarchy, are remembered as good. The rest were weak, incompetent, power-hungry, or worse.

When the Teacher in Ecclesiastes 4 observes that power sits with the oppressor, he isn't wrong. Absolute power tends to corrupt absolutely.

Whose Job Is It?

Ideally, justice for the oppressed falls to a king devoted to God's law. Psalm 72 makes this case directly, essentially telling the king, "This is your circus, and these are your monkeys":

"For he (i.e., the king) will rescue the poor who cry out and the afflicted who have no helper. He will have pity on the poor and helpless and save the lives of the poor. He will redeem them from oppression and violence, for their lives are precious in his sight." (Psalm 72:12–14)

I've heard Christians claim the Bible doesn't say caring for the poor and oppressed is the government's job. Scripture disagrees. These political and systemic issues are placed, again and again, in the hands of political leaders. Justice, equality, liberty, and compassion all fall within the scope of governmental responsibility.

"Sure," you might say, "but that's the Old Testament. We're under the New Testament now, and we don't have kings anymore."

Do we really think Jesus would be more lenient than the Old Testament on this point, as if he'd tell our presidents, lawmakers, and judges, "Not your circus, not your monkeys"?

If anything, Jesus raises the bar. In modern democracies, power sits with the people. We claim to live in a government "of the people, for the people, and by the people." If we mean it, then rescuing the poor and afflicted from oppression and violence is our job, and we should expect the same from the officials we elect.

Our Circus, Our Monkeys

We have no king but Christ, and we're citizens of his kingdom. So who's responsible for ending poverty, injustice, discrimination, and violence: the government, the church, or individual citizens? Yes. All of the above.

We have far more agency than someone living under an ancient monarchy. We can speak out and advocate. We can volunteer. We can run for office and work for change. We can hold our leaders accountable through petitions, calls, and letters. And for Christians in positions of leadership, remember: God holds us to a higher standard, and much will be required of those who've been given much.

Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 5 that we are Christ's ambassadors, representing his kingdom here on earth. As we pray "your will be done on earth as it is in heaven," may we actively work to become part of the answer to that prayer.

This is our circus. These are our monkeys.