Ecclesiastes

(Written Feb. 2020)

Writing is the simplest thing in the world. All you do is sit down and bleed. Ernest Hemingway said that, and truer words haven’t been spoken. This piece is my attempt at that. 

In the face of so much death already occurring in 2020, I have no doubt that all of us fear the sublime. That sublime which Burke and Lyotard talked about, the feeling of terror that subsumes us as we start to ponder the unknown. A few weeks ago, Sir Roger Scruton died. Last week Kobe Bryant died. And today, my uncle, ravaged by brain cancer, died. He lost his ability to read and lost his ability to speak. Why is it that so much suffering and pain must be endured by each of us in this life? It’s harder to see others you love suffer than it is to suffer yourself. These deaths show us that nobody is immortal. A philosopher, a sports legend, and a family member all must suffer the same fate. This fact should serve as a reality check, and if you choose to read on, I have no doubt that you’ll find some hope in these events and come as close as you can to conquering fate. 

For those who may not know, I am writing about a book of the bible called Ecclesiastes. It contains a wealth of knowledge and wisdom on how to live well in the face of life’s calamities. As you read my thoughts, I suggest also reading the respective verses in the book.

Chapter One

The book opens up reading like a piece of 20th-century existentialist literature. V2 states that everything is “vanity.” In Hebrew, the superlative is denoted through repetition, which means that the author is stating that life is the ultimate vanity. The direct translation of vanity from the Hebrew is not clear; the original Hebrew means something closer to the word “breath” or “wind.” This makes more sense as a translation since verse 4:6 clearly affirms that some things are better than others, implying that not everything is meaningless. Moreover, the entire book seeks to elaborate on the “variousness” of life. With these two things in mind, the proper interpretation of the verse is akin to life being a breath. The simplicity of such a metaphor is its strength, and the saying will make much sense as the book progresses.     

This verse brings up the problem of ultimate meaning (as compared to relative meaning). Relative meaning is that which is most often talked about in today’s culture – finding meaning through helping people, being virtuous, etc. Ultimate meaning is what is rarely talked about because of its metaphysical nature. Eventually, the universe will die out, and everything will be dead and bleak, just like H.G. Wells’ Time Machine. Finding ultimate meaning requires overcoming that event – overcoming entropy itself, which requires an afterlife and an all-loving God. Looking at our lives from this standpoint of ultimate reality, the author is correct – life is the ultimate wind. It’s a puff of smoke compared to the billions of years that the universe has been in existence, and a short gasp of air when compared to the lives of billions of others who have lived before us.    

There is a common objection that must be refuted at this point. Niezstech and many others claim that religion poisons life by depriving it of meaning. These thinkers fail to distinguish between the two senses of meaning, and they fail to understand the point of a believer’s life. Religion does not relegate everything to a future world; it places extreme emphasis on this world as a preparation for eternity. The purpose of a believer in this world is to forge a virtuous soul that is capable of seeing the face of God. Moreover, the Christian is required to venture out and save others from the torment that they will induce on themselves in eternity. Let’s continue to read to see what our author has to say, does he accept the atheistic critique or not?        

Verses three through eleven continue to support the seemingly nihilistic narrative as the author poses the questions, “What does man gain from anything he does under the sun?” This is a common string of thought that is returned to throughout the book. At some point in all of our lives, we must confront this question, but this confrontation with nihilism is so powerful that few can withstand it. The sheer thought of the inevitably of death ushers in fear and a deep longing to hide. What will happen? When will my time come? Will I be remembered? And, why are humans the only things on earth cursed with the ability to comprehend the problem of being? For it is us, and only us, that can sense our impending doom. We try with all our might to overcome it, but the thought of our non-existence alludes us time and time again, and we retreat back into the comfort of denial. But, there may yet be hope.    

Ecclesiastes is not a book for only the believer, nor is it a “normal” book of the bible. If you couldn’t already tell from the first two verses, this book is the quintessential philosophy of the bible. In fact, if it was written today, I think that it would easily pass off for a piece of existentialist philosophy. This is important to understanding V3. In this verse, the phrase “under the sun” refers to human existence and life here on earth. Strangely enough, there is nothing said about the afterlife anywhere in Ecclesiastes. This means that the author is primarily concerned with tackling the questions set forth with a view of human existence in mind. This is not to say that the book is opposed to views on the afterlife; it just means that the book is written as a guide on how to live our human lives. Is the author trying to answer the question of relative or ultimate meaning? Both. What is the point of my infinitesimal existence in this huge universe? And what is the point of my existence in my position as King? (Assuming that Solomon wrote this book, as most people argue.) 

When looking at all of history, it becomes apparent that few things are new. Yes, we innovate in regards to technology, but innovation itself has been present since the beginning of time, and better things will come in the future. Solomon knew this, which is why he wrote it for us to read in verses four through eleven. Everything rises and falls, and man is never quenched in his quest for knowledge of the whole. All of the attempts to find meaning and purpose have been tried time and time again. Meaning is found through reasoning and the philosophic life? Socrates tried that. Found through virtue for virtue’s sake? Aristotle. Create your own meaning through your inner self? Eastern religions. Communitarian rituals? The Celts and other pagans have got you covered. None of the stuff we see in today’s mass culture is new. Whether meaning is found through responsibility, finding your “true” self, or anything else, all of that has been done at some point in history. And what do we have to gain from it? Nothing – nothing at all. Our minds refuse to give up; we chase after the “vanity of vanities” even though I think that many of us know its fleeting. So what does Ecclesiastes teach us? Does this short book provide us with anything other than what has previously been tried? Yes, yes, it does. Keep reading, and you’ll see.   

In the final section of chapter one, the author starts to dive into possible solutions to both questions he faces. He starts off by addressing the existential nature of wisdom. Wisdom, knowledge, intelligence, for our purposes here, can be considered one and the same. It is very common to see people, myself included, sometimes taken over by the thought that more wisdom will solve all of your problems. We say to ourselves, “If only I had the 4.0 GPA, if only I was at Harvard, if only I was the smartest person!” But, even the smartest person of all time is no match for the infinite knowledge and wisdom of all of history. The brightest and wisest are nothing but drops in the vast ocean of collective knowledge. Moreover, even the accomplishments of these people will be forgotten in due time when future generations build off of their innovations. And thus, wisdom, knowledge, and intelligence do nothing to solve the two questions of our existence. 

The author states that he embarked on a quest for wisdom (V14), but realized that it was an impossible task for one person. This is the classic Socratic quote – “I know nothing” – restated. Eventually, the author realized that no matter how much he studied, there was something he did not know, and questions that could not be answered. Our faculties can only take us so far along our quest to achieve full knowledge of the whole, and our author realized this long before the Greeks. 

Verse eighteen is very peculiar, for its contrapositive is very similar to the saying, “ignorance is bliss.” What does this mean? Based on the context, I think the author is continuing to expand on his argument that wisdom does not solve the questions of being. At some point, one becomes wise enough to understand that reason alone cannot help us. I.e., philosophy alone is incomplete. As the philosophers continue their damned quest, it is only their sorrows and grief that increase. Underpinning their reasoning lies the tormenting thought that nothing they do will ever solve the questions of being, and consequently, that nothing they do can lead them to the ends they so seek. 

Overall, chapter one contains some of the greatest lessons of history. I find it rather remarkable that Socrates gets all the credit for his wisdom, but here, hundreds of years earlier was someone who understood reality better than Socrates. Chapter one is very humbling, for it reminds us of our tiny place in the cosmos and our minuscule amount of knowledge. The author alludes to the impossible task of trying to create our own meaning and the fact that our humanity prevents us from creating the perfect heaven on earth (V15). It is not possible to find ultimate meaning in freedom and the eradication of institutions, nor is it possible to do so in utopia schemes, intelligence, or, as the author will show hedonism. 

Chapter Two 

Intellectual pursuits are folly. As a philosophy major, that’s one thing I know for certain (if you get the joke I applaud you). So what’s next on the list? You’ve read Plato, Aristotle, Heidegger, and Sartre. Then by luck, you come across Niezstche and try to make your own meaning. The abstract words, so distant from real, practical life, don’t resonate with you. Maybe you’re not understanding the “genius” of these thinkers. So you turn to their personal lives. You find out that Nietzsche was so addicted to masturbating that it drove his friends nuts (pun intended); you find out that Freud had a lifelong battle with religion that he couldn’t analyze away. It becomes clear that these “titans” were just normal people. They didn’t transcend the human condition; they embodied the human heart. But now you’re emptier than ever. So maybe you take after Dan Bilzerian and start to believe that hedonism is the key to life.

The first eleven verses of chapter two show us the consequences of a hedonistic lifestyle. Before you hit the home button on your phone, listen to what I have to say. The author did it all. He did it bigger and better than Dan Bilzerian. He amassed over 700 wives, all the riches, and all the wisdom that is humanly possible. And today only a few thousand years later, what can you tell me about King Solomon? Nothing, I would guess. The funny part is that Solomon knew that. As V11 tells us, he looked at what he had done and realized that everything would be forgotten. So, as we all do, he turns back to wisdom, thinking that he missed something. But alas, even though the intellect can provide one with marginally more satisfying pleasures than the flesh, both the fool and the professor die. 

The fact that even the brightest among us have to suffer a fool’s fate tears at the soul of the author. The academic who spends his entire life pursuing the noble quest of trying to deduce the good life, the medical researcher who, inspired by her mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s, and Dan Bilzerian all share the same fate. None of them are rewarded for their pursuits, and entropy grinds them into oblivion. Our laments about this sobering fact of human existence tear at the heart of each of us. I think that this is what is truly at the bottom of the utopian schemes and postmodern ideology. Nevertheless, Solomon doesn’t give up, and at the end of chapter two, hope starts to appear.               

Immanuel Kant was the greatest modern philosopher of all time. It’s said that one cannot be considered a philosopher unless he or she read the Critique of Pure Reason. Kant showed me how to enjoy things like art. Art is “purposiveness purpose,” meaning that there isn’t anything to it. Art can’t be analyzed from an economic standpoint and used to obtain something. Art is what is obtained in the end. It’s an end in itself. As simple as this concept sounds, it was completely foreign to my economically obsessed mind. I never took the time to ask myself what I was working toward, and it was only when I understood Kant’s “Four Moments” that I was able to start cultivating a sense of appreciation for life. This is what Solomon means in V24. In your own labors and pursuits, that is where you find much of life’s pleasures. 

I think that the biggest problem preventing people from learning this fact is our constant push for the novel, the kitsch, and the useful. I grew up in a culture that never emphasized what it meant for a thing to be seen as an end in itself. Those evenings on the golf course with your dad, the silly family card games, the early morning wake-ups for family breakfast, and the “little platoons” we find membership outside of the family. These things will pass you by without hesitation as you sit on your iPhone or choose to watch Netflix. And that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Every day all of us are battered with pressures to do more, eat more, buy more, and live less. For all of its unbelievable benefits, this is where capitalism has failed us. It’s given us houses but not homes.   

All of this can change. It’s possible, as I have proven, to change your perspective on the world. V24 tells us that if we cannot live longer, we have to live deeper. For me, it started with art. Understanding the different concepts of aesthetics, from the sublime to the beautiful, and then to the abject and the kitsch, helped me slow down from the chaos of life and enter into the small portal of the transcendent, thus engaging with some of the greatest artists and romantic thinkers of all time. For others, it may be music or a novel, or even good food. But in the end, savoring things as ends in themselves is the lost treasure that must be reclaimed if we are to live better lives. And this is only the first remedy that Solomon prescribes to us.                              

Chapters Three – Six 

As I reflect on the deaths mentioned above, I cannot but help to recall the words of Psalm 22 and the cries of Jesus while he was on the cross – “Deus meus Deus meus ut quid dereliquisti me?”  In our attempts to enjoy the small pleasures of the day, we are made to bear the unbearable – the suffering of ourselves and our loved ones. In all of our endeavors, there is a time to weep, a time to mourn, but also a time to laugh and a time to love.  

The lamentations of Solomon continue, everyone who is grasped by the shadow of death finds empathy in his words: “What do workers gain from all their toil?” And later in chapter three, “All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return. Who knows if the human spirit rises upward and if the spirit of the animal goes down into the earth?”  

Solomon is tempting us to ponder the thought that none of this matters, that all of this stuff will end, and your body will be put six feet under only to be forgotten about. For the third time, we are then reminded that it is through enjoying things as ends in themselves that we can overcome our fear of death, triumph over suffering, and, through the moment, live in eternity. But when confronted head-on with death, as he stands over your relatives, reaching down to reap the last ounce of their lifeblood, these turgid words mean nothing. The kitschified aphorisms of Wittgenstein and Kant become exactly that in the face of adversity – kitschified. They provide no real substance, no real answer, and nothing to grab hold of in times of desperation. Enjoying life’s pleasures can aid in finding relative meaning, but they do nothing to help us now, now that death has come, now that we are reminded that we too shall die. 

The ending of chapter two and some verses in chapter three have alluded to potential solutions to our dilemma. But I want to continue on and see things as a linear progression. The Wisdom of Solomon and the cures for our woes will be illuminated later on.  

This sublimity is the nature of life, and V24 sums up all of philosophy in twelve words: “For who can bring them to see what will happen after them? Now that philosophy has been bashed again and again by Solomon, it can limp away and die, finally giving way to something with substance. 

The nature of our age is to take words out of context, so a quick note on the harshness of that previous paragraph must be made. My expression about philosophy isn’t meant to be taken literally, I just think that that is the message implied in Solomon’s words. There is tremendous use in philosophical pursuits, but in the end, they are incomplete since it’s impossible for reason to establish its own premises and impossible for philosophy to explain itself.  

Chapter four opens up with some of the most profound statements I have ever heard, and the curse of the English language, that wretched curse, that which prevents me from sufficiently expressing my that which wells up inside me, does not allow me to express my thoughts and emotion on these verses. The best I can do is look at the heavens above and cry out in all my anguish, why, why has mankind been cursed with the insufferable burden of self-consciousness? But, as I say that, it becomes clear to me that this self-consciousness leads me to examine my heart, and in this examination, I realize that my heart is restless, it longs for a home. There is no doubt that Solomon went through this same thought process and struggled with all his heart to find an answer, and it’s in V9 of chapter four that he gives us his second piece of advice. 

The unfortunate thing about modernity is that we have houses but not homes. Most of us lack a strong community and shared purpose. As individualized units, we often feel isolated, and the nature of the consumer culture continues to tempt us into the belief that sacrificing friendship and community for money and goods will solve all of our problems. It won’t. I wish I could go back to high school and develop stronger friendships; I wish that I could have met more people in my classes, but there’s still plenty of time left for me, and I intend to develop the strongest friendships I possibly can. It’s your family and friends who will be with you on those late summer nights with you, with you on the golf course enjoying the day, with you while you stare down adversity, and who will mourn you after you die. Friendships are what make life worth living, they give us people to share our experiences with, and people to love. But I must caution you to select friends wisely, lest a toxic relationship take away your time from enjoying the gift, which is your life. Always remember that a friend is someone who has your back when one hundred are against you.     

Repetition truly is the name of the game when it comes to Ecclesiastes, but it makes sense. The more we are exposed to something, the more it becomes ingrained in our minds. Think about the time you first see your notes for a class; you probably won’t remember much after looking at them once. But after more and more exposure, the concepts sink into your head. That’s Solomon’s strategy here – he’s repeating his teachings in a different way so that you remember them. I won’t rehash all of his verses in detail because I want to leave it to you to go and ingrain them. Open up Ecclesiastes, read the words of Solomon, reflect on them, see if they apply to your life if they don’t, then forget about it, if they do, then keep reading – either way, it can’t hurt! 

Chapter Twelve

The final two verses of the book begin with, “Fear God and keep His commandments…” I think that there is a third piece of advice in these verses. Solomon realizes the importance of responsibility, and he communicates it to us here. Whether you follow the commandments of God or not, responsibility is an essential part of finding meaning in your life. Taking on a burden allows us to strive for something – it gives us motivation for waking up in the morning. This can come in any size, shape, or form. Even responsibilities as small as tidying up the house, finishing that book you’ve meant to, or taking care of a pet, can serve to give you a sense of purpose.

Solomon gave us three different ways to find meaning in our lives: enjoying the things in life as ends in themselves, cultivating friendships, and taking on the yoke of responsibility. But I suspect many of you will think about these three things and realize that they don’t help us when death stares right into our eyes. Hence we must look at the fourth and most potent prescription Solomon gives us.     

The End

I hope that by now, you’ve realized that I didn’t talk about many vital verses, all of which have something in common – they all refer to God. Solomon never mentioned God in the first chapter of the book, but from each chapter onward, he slowly started bringing Him into the conversation. My intentional lack of mention of God until now has a purpose; it signifies the journey that many of us take. At first, we start out as Solomon did – recognizing the perils of life. Then we attempt to find the solution in wisdom, pleasure, kitschified nonsense, and more. Alas, none of it works. Maybe we’ve been able to stave off the thoughts of death for another day or two, perhaps we’ve been able to cope with the losses of those around us. But the sense of our fate is still there. Yet, this whole time, the answer has been in front of our face. It’s been alluded to in the chapters time and time again; it’s been crying out to you from your heart, pulling at your soul as you reflect on the starry skies above and the moral law within.

One of the failures of philosophers has been their neglect of the truth that all of us are so limited. We are limited by death, the laws of nature, the laws of logic, and by the nature of reason itself. The more I reflect on the limitations of mankind, the more I understand what Socrates meant. But there is such a push against this truth, a push for mankind to save himself using his own abilities. It’s not possible, and the vain attempt to do so will only tear at your soul and mind. So why is it that we don’t try to go outside of ourselves? My best guess at this point is pride – the original sin. I’m not quite sure why pride has such a powerful hold on people, but I now understand why it is the worst of all sins. 

I want you to go back and read Ecclesiastes and pay special attention to the way that God is invoked in Solomon’s language. I noticed that God isn’t mentioned as a cop-out when Solomon doesn’t get something he wanted, nor is God portrayed as some Genie in a bottle just magically happening to solve all the problems of Solomon. Rather, in chapters five, nine, and ten, we see that Solomon wrestles hard with the fact of evil and suffering in the world. I read these parts of Ecclesiastes with the word Israel in mind – Israel means to struggle with God – and I think that’s what Solomon is doing here. With his words, he’s struggling to make sense of it all. He has gained everything a human possibly can from this earth, yet all of this is nothing in the face of his impending death. And what about all the unfortunate people? What about those men who have gained much, yet are evil? These questions penetrate the hearts of every person. But after trying and seeking everything on earth, maybe it’s possible that the answer he sought must come from outside earth, outside our experience – from the creator Himself. 

In reading the works of many philosophers, I’ve found a religious undertone. It’s very apparent in Sartre’s works, and also in his lifestyle choices. There exists the realization of the impossibility of transcending our own condition, and thus the need to turn to something greater. For Sartre, it was “Communism,” for Heidegger, it was the Nazi Party, but for me, it was a return to the first page of Augustine’s Confessions, and the famous line that says, “My heart is restless until it finds rest in thee.”       

There is hope. It’s been here waiting for us the whole time. In order to conquer death, and solve the question of ultimate meaning, we must surrender our hearts to God. Follow Solomon’s wisdom, read the other literature written by him, and I have no doubt that the hole in your heart will start to be healed. But remember, the greatest thinkers of history have proven time and time again that ultimate meaning cannot be found within us or manufactured by us; we have to look somewhere else, for C.S. Lewis once said, If I feel in myself a longing that this world cannot quench, then I must have been made for another world. 

Works Cited

Among the Sierra Nevada, California (1868), Albert Bierstadt. Courtesy Smithsonian/Wikipedia

The Holy Bible, New International Version. Grand Rapids: Zondervan House, 1984. Print.