there is a time
the to-and-fro of wisdom
“There is…a time to weep and a time to laugh… / …a time to mourn and a time to dance…”
Here are a couple of jewels offered by that Ecclesiastes fellow. Yes, it’s the “all is vanity” guy. He’s called the Preacher or Teacher or maybe something else. The word used is קֹהֶלֶת (qoheleth), which means “assembler” — someone who calls folks together. Come gather ‘round, y’all! It’s usual to just use the Hebrew and call him Qoheleth.
Ecclesiastes is not one of the more popular books in the Bible. Not even close. People might be familiar with the beginning of chapter 3. “For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven.” You know, “there is a time…” which is the source of the scriptures above. The Byrds did a good job of educating listeners with their song, “Turn! Turn! Turn!”
Through the centuries, it’s been debated whether the book should even be considered scripture. I won’t go into detail, but a work which features “vanity,” the term being הֶבֶל (hebel), meaning “vapor” or “breath,” isn’t likely to receive favorable reviews. It appears in 30 verses and is used more times than that. The book doesn’t seem to carry much…weight!
Still, we can see Qoheleth presenting wisdom that’s been accumulated throughout his life — it’s been a back-and-forth process. (There’s a light hearted video called “The Disturbing but Surprising Wisdom of Ecclesiastes,” which helps show how profound the book is.) There is a brutal honesty that seems refreshing.
Among other pursuits, he tried living a life of excess. “Whatever my eyes desired I did not keep from them; I kept my heart from no pleasure, for my heart found pleasure from all my toil, and this was my reward from all my toil. Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had spent in doing it, and again, all was vanity and a chasing after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun” (2:10–11). He indulged in wine, women, and song. Alas, he found it empty.
I want to look at Qoheleth as speaking to the feel or experience we sense in our day-to-day life. In particular, what meaning does the weeping and laughing, mourning and dancing, hold for us? Clearly, there is much else to consider in the book, but for now that is my concern.
And I speak very specifically of myself and my wife Banu. As I’ve noted in recent months, we moved from central New York to the Nashville area to Pensacola, Florida. My following comments on Pensacola could be applied to many cities. We have lived in some of them. Nonetheless, I have discerned here a tone of desperation, an atmosphere of sadness. In driving around town, one notices at many intersections signs held by those requesting help.
There are other indications of “weeping” and “mourning,” such as the general state of many neighborhoods. Again, I know this isn’t a phenomenon unique to this town.
I recently told Banu I was wondering what chain of events would lead someone to assume the role of beggar. I can easily imagine the confluence of bad luck (and unfortunate decisions) in arriving at that state.
I’m sure many drivers trapped at a red light within close proximity of such persons are filled with fear and/or disgust: or just don’t want to be bothered. I sometimes have had those feelings, although I will give some money if I have it on hand.
Those posted at the corners are our brothers and sisters.
Now we move to laughing and dancing. Pensacola is filled with beauty — great beauty. I have included a photo of the main branch of the public library here. We could focus on the downtown or the nearby community known as Pensacola Beach! Many other sites could be mentioned. (We’re new; we’re still learning.) But nothing says “beauty” like a wonderful place to encourage the mind!
In fact, I have come to appreciate every place in which we have ever lived. I have found the beauty. It has enveloped me.
I would say all this fits in with the “back-and-forth process” we see in Ecclesiastes. Life is filled with contradictions. As hinted already, this book doesn’t exactly rise to the surface in terms of admiration. Perhaps that explains its hidden majesty.
As we come to the final chapter, Qoheleth concludes with a dirge of magnificent character, if such a thing can be possible with those meditations.
“Remember your creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come and the years draw near when you will say, ‘I have no pleasure in them’” (12:1), spoken like one who has seen it all. There follows a poetic litany of “before” all kinds of bad stuff happens — like the decline of old age.
It is capped off “before the silver cord is snapped, and the golden bowl is broken, and the pitcher is broken at the fountain, and the wheel broken at the cistern, and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the breath returns to God who gave it. [Now, wait for it!] Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher; all is vanity” (vv. 6–8).
As the conclusion, in steps the narrator, speaking in the third person. As the finale, we have a sort of reconciliation of what has gone before: “The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God, and keep his commandments, for that is the whole duty of everyone. For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every secret thing, whether good or evil” (vv. 13–14). (Italics mine.)
Some consider that last bit as being tacked on later. It seems a little too convenient, a little too easy a resolution. It’s understandable, given what we’ve been told is the “vanity” of life.
Qoheleth attacks our logic — perhaps an attack on the way we wish the world would work. Desperation and sadness co-exist with beauty and wonder.
“There is a time for war and a time for peace.” A lethal combination indeed. We tend to exaggerate our own situations, but it does seem like we are closer to World War 3 than ever before. Failures in creative imagination are compensated for by excesses of mind-numbing fanaticism.
To note a particular example, the years-long violence in the Middle East has taken an especially heavy toll on the Arab Christians, who trace their lineage to ancient times. That includes the church in Palestine. Their plight is largely ignored by Christians in America.
Having said all of that, we can yet be heartened by the summation, “The end of the matter; all has been heard.” We can take comfort in whatever folly we fall prey to, that “God will bring every deed into judgment.” That sounds pretty stark, but it is a judgment tempered with mercy.
In an extremely roundabout, to-and-fro, cold-water-poured-on-the-head way, Qoheleth brings good news.
Thanks be to God!
