What’s the point?
Despite its morbid approach to the futility of life, I found this book to be brutally honest rather than miserably depressing. But I did wonder why it was written. And for whom? Did the author just want to get things off his chest or was he intending others to read it? And if the latter, was he trying to inform them, challenge them or depress them? The whole thing has the flavour of an internet blog – a journal of his own private opinions, but out there in the public domain. Since nobody seems sure how to translate his title (preacher? speaker? philosopher? Qoholeth? wise one? teacher? quester?), I’ll refer to him as the blogger.
Traditionally the blogger is Solomon and it certainly sounds like him – the son of David, a king in Jerusalem, wiser than any who ruled in Jerusalem before him, rich in property and livestock, many wives – though other later kings may well have described themselves in the same fashion. Or of course another author could be writing ‘as if’ he were king.
The blogger is above all else honest in his opinions and not afraid to raise difficult questions. And like any honest person he can hold two views at the same time, such as “what’s the point of being merry if you’re going to die?” and “you may as well be merry while you have the chance”.
He starts off complaining that nothing changes, everything just goes on the same as it always has. Then his obsession with death becomes clear: What is the point of anything when everyone ends up dead? He is also depressed by injustice whereby the wicked and foolish enjoy life and the good and wise suffer, and is frustrated by the fact that no-one knows for sure what happens when we die. At one point he suggests human souls might go up, whereas animals’ souls go into the earth; at another point he implies there is no consciousness beyond death.
He writes a lot about wisdom and folly. He knows wisdom is better than folly and has all kinds of maxims to prove it. But his experience is that wisdom doesn’t guarantee success in this life, and can’t stop anyone dying. His conclusion seems to be “Be wise, even if it’s pointless.”
One fact the blogger never questions is the existence of God. He regards the whole of life, especially the good things, as a gift from our creator God.
Miscellaneous maxims:
Amongst all the moaning and complaining there are a number of familiar sounding epigrams which are still relevant to modern life.
“Two are better than one, because together they can work more effectively.”
“We leave this world just as we entered it – with nothing.”
“Never ask, ‘Oh, why were things so much better in the old days?’”
“There is no one on earth who does what is right all the time and never makes a mistake.”
“Don’t pay attention to everything people say – you may hear your servant insulting you, and you know yourself that you have insulted other people many times.”
“Fast runners do not always win the race ... bad luck happens to everyone.”
“Dead flies can make a whole bottle of perfume stink.” (origin of ‘a fly in the ointment’)
“If your axe is blunt and you don’t sharpen it, you have to work harder to use it. It is more sensible to plan ahead.”
“Don’t criticise ... even in the privacy of your bedroom. A bird might carry the message and tell them what you said.” (origin of ‘a little bird told me’)
“Put your investments in several places – because you never know what kind of bad luck you are going to have in this world.”
What should the modern reader make of all this?
The blogger has a limited perspective in two senses. He is only interested in everything “under the sun” which encompasses the whole of earthly life, but not heaven (or even the wider universe known to modern science). Also, he seeks purpose only in life before death. Factoring in the possibility of life beyond death changes the perspective.
So one thing to learn is the danger of a narrow perspective. In other words, we can disagree with the blogger’s assessment of life. But can we learn anything by stepping into his shoes and sympathising with his point of view? Yes, we can learn what not to put our trust in. Searching after riches, happiness or knowledge will not lead to ultimate fulfilment. Only God can make sense of our lives.
Perhaps the reason I found Ecclesiastes intriguing rather than depressing is because I have explored similar questions myself in a mood of calm scientific enquiry. A few years back I went through a phase of asking “how do I know?” I tried to reason my way to belief in the existence of God, the living presence of Christ, the point of being a Christian and life beyond death. I never felt like giving up my faith, and I never really felt depressed about these issues. But I did feel frustrated that despite some strongly suggestive evidence, there was no 100% proof of any of these things. Ecclesiastes reminds me that you’re never going to get certainties in this life, you just have to trust God.
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