When I was a college professor there was a student named George who suffered from severe depression. George was advised by some well-meaning Christians to pray and read his Bible in order to overcome his affliction. George had no church background and was totally unfamiliar with Scripture. He opened the Bible one of the other students had loaned him and had no idea where to start. He looked at the table of contents and saw “Ecclesiastes, the Preacher.” “Preacher” is a terrible translation of the Hebrew name of the book, but George didn’t know that. He reasoned that reading the thoughts of a “preacher” might be the best way to start his exploration of the Scriptures. He read the book and his depression only deepened. Finally, his parents withdrew him from school, took him to a physician who discovered the medical reason for his depression, and treated him with the appropriate medication. Lesson: If you are going to advise people to read the Bible, make sure you tell them what part to read if they need encouragement and hope!
I want us to look at a very unused book of the Bible—a book which is so different from the rest of Scripture that we frankly wonder what in the world it’s even doing in the Canon. There are probably two reasons for its inclusion: it was associated with King Solomon, and the end of the book basically says, “Ignore all that you just read and just fear God and keep to the Law of Moses.”
“Ecclesiastes” is an attempted Greek translation of Qoheleth, the Hebrew name of the book. The word “ecclesiastes” means “speaker in the assembly,” and so we can see why someone could possibly assume that “preacher” would be a proper translation of the word in English. Qoheleth actually means “one who conducts an assembly or a school” and thus refers to a teacher. The book Ecclesiastes is part of the wisdom tradition of Israel which was designed to teach young men how to live wisely in the world.
So, what is so unusual and different about Qoheleth compared to the rest of the Bible? The theme of the book is the word “vanity” which is Hebrew means “mist” or “vapor.” It’s a word which implies nothing real, substantial, or firm that one can latch onto in life. “All is vanity,” Qoheleth maintains. Why would he say such a thing? What brought him to this pessimistic and depressing conclusion about life? Four thoughts led him to the conclusion that everything is vanity.
First, death cancels everything. Like most of the rest of the Hebrew Scriptures, Qoheleth did not hope for anything beyond this life. But unlike the other writers such as Isaiah and Jeremiah, Qoheleth felt this final end and unstoppable death of everyone raised a brutal question mark regarding the worth of any human achievement, toil, goodness, or deed. His observation was that most of us will be forgotten within two generations if not before. And he was not encouraged by his fellow Hebrews who were beginning to think there may be something beyond the grave. He saw such faith as wishful thinking since in his mind there was no evidence that our fate is any different from the beasts of the field. There was only one cruel difference between us and the animals; we know we shall die and that knowledge casts a shadow over life that nothing can remove. Death ultimately makes life meaningless. All is vanity.
Secondly, God is unknowable. God exists and determines all things, but we can’t understand any of this or anything about God. Humans simply cannot know God. We can have absolutely no personal experience of God because God is hidden from us and will never be revealed. Qoheleth is not impressed by the faith assertions of Israel revolving around the Exodus, the Promised Land, Israel’s election, the encouragements of the prophets, the praise of the Psalms, etc. Neither is he convinced by the optimism of Israel’s other wisdom teachers that we can learn of God through nature. He believes that what we know of God is merely what we have imagined and what we want God to be. In other words, such faith is nothing more than wishful thinking. Qoheleth believes a sober, non-biased analysis of life (of its pain and suffering; of its pointlessness and brutality; of its absurd beginning and even more absurd ending) will topple any human effort to understand God and to make sense of life. And he would say that any talk to the contrary by faithful believers in a personal God is no more than whistling in the dark. God exists, Qoheleth says, but whether God looks upon us with interest or disdain, we shall never know. So, all is vanity.
Thirdly, the world is thoroughly corrupt. Qoheleth studied the world—this place where all is cancelled by death and where there is nothing new under the sun, and he concluded that there is no justice. Evil people, armed with wealth and power, always stomp the less fortunate and weak into the dust. The unrighteous fare better than the righteous. The most wicked may never even suffer from indigestion while the kindest may know years of pain and misery. And there is no point in asking why—no use to look for answers—and no reason to look to God. Life is no more than a vicious circle for most humans. This world is a merry-go-round for a few and a wheel of misfortune for others, and regardless of which you’re on, there is no way off, for all is vanity.
Finally, Qoheleth asks, “So what’s left?” He believes that the most we can hope for is to enjoy life whenever it is possible—to “eat, drink, and make merry” before death or fate changes the hand dealt to us. This of course is a type of hedonism which says, “That’s all there is. Enjoy what you can, when you can and as often as you can. Let your merriment take your mind off the crooked world, the unknowable God, and the finality of death. Let pleasure be like opium which changes nothing about the world but allows you so sneak in some pleasure and to snatch some enjoyment “while the getting is good.” But Qoheleth admits this is not much. He knows that this kind of happiness is shallow. It cannot for long keep us from returning to the conclusion that all is indeed vanity.
Now do you see why George found no encouragement in reading Ecclesiastes? What in the world can we learn from such a writing? How can we make any positive use of this depressing collection of teachings? Is there anything we can do with it which goes beyond viewing Qoheleth as a bad example we should not follow in life? I believe there is.
There are two ways to approach the unusual, the unorthodox, and the threatening in human thought and experience. We can run from it. We can censure, ban, persecute—all of which signifies we are afraid. Even though for many in the church, this has been the customary approach to the unusual, frankly it is not a very noble, courageous, and mature response.
The second way to approach the unusual and threatening is to open our faith and values to the questions posed by what challenges and frightens us. And in this response, there is both danger and opportunity. The danger is that we may find we are wrong and need to change. The opportunity is that we may discover how authentic and deep our faith can be when we experience it and make it our own in ways more profound than before we faced the questions.
For example, let’s take Qoheleth’s claim that God is unknowable. As Christians we believe God has made the Divine Self known in Christ—that in Jesus we can know our Creator. We can touch base with what is eternal. We believe that In Jesus Christ God has pulled back the veil and has opened the Divine Heart to us to uncover the deepest, most profound truth in the universe. But in all honesty, how much of our perception and understanding of God is actually determined by what we see in Jesus? Do our images of God reflect the Abba who loves unconditionally, indiscriminately, and everlastingly? Does our concept of God include the One who wills a world of justice and peace? Does our idea of God encompass the pilgrimage God invites us to take (a pilgrimage which will not always be easy, convenient, and without cost)? And perhaps most importantly, what picture of God would others paint if all they had were our lives to go by? To an extent Qoheleth is correct. We often mold our ideas of God in our own image; and to the extent that our religion is based on a God of fear who is a Cosmic Police Officer or a Harsh Judge or a God of sentimentality who expects nothing from us or a God who is naturally on our side, supporting, protecting, and defending our individual and collective vested interests to the hurt of others, we are in truth worshiping a God who is no more than a figment of our imaginations. Qoheleth’s claim that God is unknowable is no worse than the counter-claim that God is knowable if the God we believe in and trust is primarily the object of our fears or the projection of our desires and prejudices. Either way the God of Jesus Christ (whom we claim to be real) remains a stranger.
We could argue with Qoheleth. We could be scandalized by his unorthodox speech. Or we could allow his thoughts to lead us into a deeper understanding of our own faith so that it truly becomes ours and is in harmony with the Living God. The following comments are my reactions to Qoheleth’s observations and conclusions about life and faith.
- I believe there is a rational component to religious faith, but reason alone is not enough to bring us to dynamic and healthy faith in God. Qoheleth is more a philosopher than a theologian; an observer than a participant; a thinker than a person willing to risk and invest. There is certainly a need for a rational faith. We have more than enough craziness in religion today. But we can never think ourselves into authentic and transforming faith. In the biblical tradition, faith is more about trust than it is about belief. And trust requires risk, investment, and sacrifice. Whenever we trust someone, we are making a commitment without absolute assurance that such trust will not be betrayed or later prove to be foolish. Trust involves participation, vulnerability, and devotion. Trust requires we leave the bleachers and get down on the field of life with all its messiness, bruises, and uncertainty. Authentic faith occurs only after we have decided to journey with this God who makes all things new. Eighty-seven times in the Gospels Jesus says, “Follow me.” There is no faith without following. Faith is a process, a pilgrimage, a risk, and an investment. As I read Ecclesiastes, I do not sense Qoheleth is willing to take that chance, and people who are never willing to risk will always assume that “there is nothing new under the sun.” But the Christian faith, when it is the real thing, is all about newness and transformation. But such change does not come without cost. That’s what the cross is all about.
- I believe there is something beyond death, but that something must be defined in ways which maintain God as Abba for everyone and which heighten rather than detract from the importance of this life and creation. Anything else probably is wishful thinking.
- I don’t believe the world is totally and hopelessly crooked, but I am required to join the God of justice and peace in creating a garden of sharing and compassion instead of a desert of sin and greed, for the world will truly become what we make it.
- And I believe Jesus was correct. Life is more than the food we eat, the clothes we wear, and the possessions we accumulate. But in a society with more than its share of narcissists and sensualists—of materialists and infantiles who want it all and who want it now, I must be sure I know what abundant life is and what it is not.
In short, if we answer Qoheleth’s claim that there is nothing new under the sun with the New Testament answer of God, “Behold, I make all things new,” there had better be something new from God in our lives. Otherwise, our words too are so much hot air—one more vanity of vanities of which this weary world has had more than enough.
(I am aware of recent attempts to interpret Ecclesiastes in ways that present the writer in a more positive light and as having more in common with the faith of Israel than I have presented. I am not convinced by those efforts.)
Ecclesiastes 1:1-14
1 The words of the Teacher,[a] the son of David, king in Jerusalem.
2 Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher,[b]
vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
3 What do people gain from all the toil
at which they toil under the sun?
4 A generation goes, and a generation comes,
but the earth remains forever.
5 The sun rises and the sun goes down,
and hurries to the place where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south,
and goes around to the north;
round and round goes the wind,
and on its circuits the wind returns.
7 All streams run to the sea,
but the sea is not full;
to the place where the streams flow,
there they continue to flow.
8 All things[c] are wearisome;
more than one can express;
the eye is not satisfied with seeing,
or the ear filled with hearing.
9 What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done;
there is nothing new under the sun.
10 Is there a thing of which it is said,
“See, this is new”?
It has already been,
in the ages before us.
11 The people of long ago are not remembered,
nor will there be any remembrance
of people yet to come
by those who come after them.12 I, the Teacher,[d] when king over Israel in Jerusalem, 13 applied my mind to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven; it is an unhappy business that God has given to human beings to be busy with. 14 I saw all the deeds that are done under the sun; and see, all is vanity and a chasing after wind.[e]