Saturday, October 30, 2010

Ecclesiastes 7

For my weekly quiet time today, I studied Ecclesiastes 7. I’d like to discuss two issues, using certain passages as a fulcrum-point:

1. Ecclesiastes 7:16-17 states (in the NRSV): “Do not be too righteous, and do not act too wise; why should you destroy yourself? Do not be too wicked, and do not be a fool; why should you die before your time?”

This passage resonated with me. I’ve often been burned out by evangelical Christianity because it makes demands that are too unrealistic for me: don’t lust after women; don’t hate; forgive everybody; reach out to people; put God first; avoid “worldly” entertainments; stay married to the same person for the rest of your natural life, no matter what (well, this last one doesn’t apply to me, but several people in unhappy marriages may find this rule to be a burden). I’ve felt that I need to be perfect each and every day in order to earn God’s favor, or to demonstrate that I already have God’s favor (which is how many Christians like to incorporate works salvation into their doctrine of “free grace”).

There are times when I just want to stop beating up on myself for my imperfections. So there are people I don’t like, and I’m not friends with every person on the face of the earth. That’s true for everyone! Should I beat up on myself because I’m not divine?

Ecclesiastes 7:16 tells me that I don’t have to be perfect, and that I can easily destroy myself by being too righteous. At the same time, v 17 warns me against immorality. I can die before my time through immoral activity. If I give into my passions and casually sleep with a woman, I can end up with an STD. There can be legal consequences to a person who caves into his desires without really thinking. Nursing bitterness can lead to health problems; as Ecclesiastes 7:9 says (in the KJV), anger rests in the bosom of fools. (For me, Christianity makes this worse by demanding that I like and be friends with those who have hurt me. I’d much rather forget about them and move on!) And the list goes on. In short, there can be consequences for bad behavior.

Ecclesiastes 7 talks about the value of wisdom. We become wiser and deeper when we go to a funeral and regognize the transitory nature of life, than when we merely eat, drink, and be merry. When we realize that life is short, we value what we’re enjoying a whole lot more. Instant gratification does not necessarily serve us, for the end of a thing can be better than the beginning, and so we should be patient. Looking at our past as “the good old days” does not help us, for, not only is our view of the past most likely unrealistic, but we have to deal with the here-and-now. We shouldn’t desire to overhear what people say about us, for it might be negative; and we should forgive those who curse us, for we have cursed others.

Another piece of wisdom in Ecclesiastes 7: it’s better to be rebuked by a wise man than to be praised by fools, for rebuke by a wise man actually helps us. I’ve experienced abuse of this concept from evangelical Christians, who have delighted in rebuking me for being an introvert, when they think that I should be a happy, happy extrovert, as Jesus supposedly was. But I’ve not found their rebuke to be helpful: rather than bearing positive fruit in my life, it has rubbed salt in my wounds. But I’ve appreciated those who have given me constructive ways to view situations and to address my problems. That sort of advice has usually come from people who aren’t serious Christians, and therefore they don’t make the perfect the enemy of the good.

Ecclesiastes 7:19-20 says that wisdom is good, right before noticing that people are not righteous. What’s going on here? Tremper Longman says the point here is that we can’t apply wisdom perfectly anyway, so why should we try so hard? After all, doesn’t v 15 say that the good may die young, even as the wicked live a long time? Even those who are wise and righteous can’t be assured of a long life. So why stress out over it? I guess that we can gain benefit from applying rules of wisdom, for those rules accord with how the world is. But why should we beat ourselves up for not being perfect?

I need to mention something: not everyone shares my interpretation of Ecclesiastes 7:16-17. Rabbinic literature (such as Ecclesiastes Rabbah 7:25) cites Saul as someone who tried to be over-righteous: Saul thought that his own decision to spare the Amalekites was more merciful than God’s command that he exterminate them. Because Saul was merciful to those God wanted to punish, Saul put himself on a slippery slope that led him to exterminate innocent people: the priests of Nob. Ecclesiastes Rabbah may be saying that Saul should have followed God’s standards of righteousness, rather than making himself his own moral authority. I agree that there are times for mercy, and times for justice, since justice is necessary for the existence of order. I also concur that my morality should come from someplace other than myself. But I’m not gun-ho about the fundamentalist “don’t question God” creed.

Another thing to note: the Jewish commentator Rashi (who may be referring to a rabbinic passage) says that Saul misapplied the rabbinic principle of qal va-homer: what applies to the less, applies to the greater. Saul reasoned that, if it was wrong to kill an individual, then it must be wrong to exterminate an entire nation, the Amalekites. The rabbis often used qal va-homer in their exegesis, but they apparently did not consider it fool-proof, for they held that one could reach wrong conclusions through its application.

But, back to Ecclesiastes 7:16, the Nelson Study Bible says that it means we shouldn’t be legalistic or self-righteous, nor should we consider ourselves to be wise (cp. Proverbs 3:7).

2. Ecclesiastes 7:13-14 says that prosperity and adversity both come from the hand of God. This is a hard teaching. Calvinist Douglas Wilson makes a lot of it, for he believes that God causes both good and also misfortune. Tremper Longman says the idea in vv 13-14 is that God is trying to throw us off so that we don’t know the future. Maybe Qoheleth’s view is that, when we don’t know the future, we can find value in the present: we won’t take our prosperity for granted, and we can work and enjoy the fruit of our labor in the moment, without stressing over what will someday happen. Or perhaps Qoheleth’s God thinks that knowing the future should be his prerogative alone.

We see this sort of determinism in James 4:13-15, which states that we shouldn’t brag about our plans for tomorrow, for we may die; rather, we should say that we’ll fulfill our plans for tomorrow if it’s God will. Does that imply that it’s God’s will if we die tomorrow in an accident? Exodus 21:13 distinguishes between premeditated murder and accidental manslaughter, calling the latter an act of God.

But Ecclesiastes 7 is not totally deterministic. Its message is that we have the power to make decisions that can affect our life, for good or for evil. Granted, this is not a fool-proof rule in Qoheleth’s eyes, for the good can die young, even as the wicked live a long time! But goodness contains principles that are beneficial, whereas evil contains seeds of misfortune. Misfortune is not necessarily a divine punishment, for it can flow from an evil act, as evil begets evil. Ecclesiastes 7 is saying, in a sense, that we are masters of our own destinies, through the decisions that we make. And yet, we’re not, for bad stuff can happen to us. Qoheleth blames bad stuff on God, for, in Ecclesiastes 7:13, he says that God makes the straight crooked. And yet, Qoheleth in Ecclesiastes 7 is not consistent on this point, for he says in v 29 that God made man good, and yet man has botched things up through his own devices.