Brief Thoughts on Ecclesiastes

I am currently taking a course on the Book of Ecclesiastes, also called Qoheleth. This is a book that I appreciate because in it, I see the separation between reality and rationale in the starkest terms. It is, in my opinion, an elaboration on the proverb - Many are man's plans, but God's counsel will stand - to its most radical point, and, in a way, espouses a strong skepticism, perhaps even agnosticism, on the power of God.

Over and against traditional wisdom, as found in Proverbs, Qoheleth declares that all is "vanity" - hebel, which literally translates as breath or vapor. However, in this text, it carries the connotation of "absurd" (Fox), and also, I think, a sense of finality - not in the sense that we have reached the end of some journey, but that we have come to its premature termination; a permanent roadblock. An insurmountable wall on that path to comprehending reality without reduction. For me, I translate "hebel" as "ungroundable." It is not groundless, because Qoheleth believes in a metaphysical ground of sorts rooted in the all-encompassing and overriding works of God, but ungroundable, because grounding requires thought, but thought stops precisely when we reach reality. We try to make sense of the world, but the world in fact, cares nothing for our opinions. It goes on and on - around and around, from the north to the south, the sun rises and sets, panting on its course, never deviating, no new track, nothing is new, wearily wearily.

For Qoheleth, he is concerned with something call yithron - the gain, the additional, or the "what more" of things. Insodoing, he is profoundly concerned with the valuation of all things - such as the value of cars, goodness, and even relationships. In so doing, he builds himself mansions, gardens, and all these. Yet, he calls this his toil and his lot, and, ultimately, he dismisses them all as hebel because there is no yithron in these things. The things are only what they are, and nothing more; our evaluation of these things fades in step with the diluting effects of time, and though they may be renewed (Ben Kung) periodically, our orientation is towards apathy and not will. (What is important is this rhythm -the Sabbath, cf. Greenberg) They will pass and be inherited, even worse, come into the hands of another, perhaps even a fool.

And so he comes to the end of value - the value of life. He critiques the value of life, and finds only ambivalence - who knows if man is better than a beast? We do not know if our souls go up or down, since we all reach the same fate (phenomenologically speaking) Valuation exists only in our minds; there are no inherent values in these things, no matter how good. Qoheleth realizes this, and when he tries to broach this wall from rationale to reality, he finds the gap too wide to cross. The good die, the poor live, the wise starve, the strong lose, the quick are slowed; indeed, he comes face to face with the end of all living things, and he finds no gain in man.

Therefore, he is faced with a profound ambiguity. On the one hand, he believes that God has done all things, yet he has hidden all these things from man - wisdom is of no use, since eventually we come face to face with reality. It is good, but its value is only relative and not absolute (Seow). Foolishness, too, does not matter, since once again, in the spectrum of wisdom, the end is the same for both the wise and the fool. Pushing this further, in that he peers into the very contingency and fragility of life, and discovers behind it nothing - no powerful God who directs the good on their way towards eternal rewards. He is blind both to the thing itself and t the thing behind it.

And so he is faced with a choice, or more worrisome now, the predetermined condition - does he have faith or not? (This question is exacerbated by the reformed doctrine of faith, since it is essentially NOT one of choice. People tend to think that faith is a choice, just like you choose a box of cereal. No, it isn't. In fact, "choosing" a religion takes away from genuineness of the person and the religion. It is more genuine for you to be born a Muslim, Christian, Jew and to remain one, than it is to "choose" a different religion, as if your choice is a criteria for correctness. It's not. We are fallible, so our choices are fallible. However, the condition that is given onto us, granted to us - be it religion or culture - takes away that choice, and that is a beautiful thing. Some might say that it is imposed. I simply say that it is a privilege. Only a matter of diction and semantics.)

If you're wondering if this is simply a mapping of my thought and imposing it on Ecclesiastes... of course.