The words of the Preacher.
The great debate
This book has been called the sphinx of the Bible, a not unapt name, for the book is grave, majestic, mysterious. Whatever its meaning be, it contradicts itself in the most flagrant way, looked at from every standpoint bug one. The book is clearly the record of a debate either between two men--one of them smitten with unbelief and despair, the other filled with conviction and hope; or more probably between two men in some one man--two parts of the same soul. In this great debate three things are discussed.
I. The vanity of human wishes. The first speaker, in order that he may illustrate this to the full, takes “Solomon in all his glory” as a chief instance. “Vanity of vanities, saith the debater; all is vanity!” What are the sources that feed this pessimism? The speaker tells us--
1. His experience of life. He was king in Jerusalem, and he resolved to give life a fair trial, to see what it was good for the sons of men to do under the heavens all the days of their life.
(1)
First he tried wisdom. He set himself to seek and to find the truth that lies at the heart of things--to read the riddle of the world and discover the meaning of God. He studied men and women, all sorts and conditions of men, yet he found nothing.
(2) Foiled in that direction he went to the other extreme. He said in his heart, “Go to now, I will prove thee with mirth, therefore enjoy pleasure.” A truce to thought! Shut out the mystery, forget all the problems of the world, let us eat and drink and be merry! But alas! he found that somehow he was spoilt for a life of brutal sensualism. He soon sickened of it. “This also was vanity.”
(3) Next he tried a combination of wisdom and plea-sure--a scholarly, philosophic, refined voluptuousness. He called in the aid of the various arts, architecture, painting, music, horticulture. He gratified every desire, yet wisely, daintily, carefully avoiding all the vulgarities and grossness that breed loathing and disgust. Yet it was all in vain.
2. But perhaps, we say, your experience was exceptionally unhappy, No, he answers, I have looked over the whole of life and find it everywhere the same. There is, for instance, he goes on, a season, a marked fixed time for everything and to every purpose under the heavens, and he enumerates some twenty-eight of these seasons, and the activities for which they are propitious. Looked at from one point of view it is very beautiful, no doubt, but under such a fatalism, in a world where everything is arranged beforehand, what room is there for man to will or act? Fate! Fate! everywhere fate and vanity.
3. Or come again, says this terrible Debater; we may differ as to philosophy, but let us look at the facts of everyday life! In Nature I see a terrible grim order, I see forces that go on their way full of silent contempt for man and his schemes and dreams. I hear a voice that says to him, “Don’t fuss and fret, little sir! eat and drink and die--for you can do nothing else.” In the world of human nature, on the contrary, I see disorder of a very terrible kind. Here men find thorns on vines and thistles on fig-trees. As I looked I said to myself, he continues (Ecclesiastes 3:16): God shall judge the righteous and the wicked, for there is a time there--that is in the eternal world, for every purpose and for every work. But alas! is there such a place as there? Who knows? Looking then, he says, at the oppression that men endure under the sun, and seeing no hope of any comfort, seeing no prospect of deliverance anywhere, I praised the dead, they who are out of it all--after life’s fever they sleep well--more than the living; yea, better than both did I esteem him who hath not yet lived at all.
4. But surely, some one will say, this man generalizes too much. He paints with too black a brush. All are not oppressed and do not fail. There is such a thing as prosperity in the world, but this dyspeptic debater never seems to have heard of it. Yes, he has heard of it, and taken the measure of it too, and if one thing more than another serves to bring out the littleness and the vanity of his life it is, in his mind, that which men call its prosperity. Let us look, he says, at the successful man. Idleness is of course folly, but is not success also embittered by hatred and envy? Does it not separate a man from his fellows? He gains something, but does he gain anything so good as what he loses--brotherhood and love? Look again at the isolation of the man who loves money. “He hath neither son nor brother, yet there is no end to his labours, neither are his eyes satisfied with riches.” There he is alone with his money! Nothing in all the world is so precious, so essential to man as the love and confidence of another man. Success without comradeship is a poor thing--it is vanity; there is nothing in it, and the richest miser is literally miserable for want of that which he might have had for the asking--love. Look for the last time, he says, at the strange vicissitudes that befall even the highest of men. A king on the throne has many flatterers, but no friend. Plots are hatched, disaffection grows to a head, and he is deposed. His young kinsman whom he in his jealousy has kept in prison, is brought out with tumult of applause. All follow the new king! Yes, says this terrible pessimist, but only for a while. They will tire of him also,--“They that come after shall not rejoice in him.” He too will be deposed in favour of some other popular idol of the moment. Surely all is vanity and a striving after wind. So far the spokesman of despair.
II. But now in the fifth chapter another speaker--either without or within the man--takes up his parable and champions the cause of faith and hope. He does not, cannot indeed, solve all the difficulties, or meet all the objections that the other has propounded. Rather he gives utterance to the calm precepts of old experience; he re-affirms with conviction what the good have said in every age. Granting that life is full of mystery and has much that is sad in it, he lays emphasis on the clearness and the urgency of duty. In doing right alone each man shall find refuge from despair; he shall find God and be able to take refuge in God from all the pursuing, harassing mysteries of God’s government.
1. “Keep thy foot when thou goest to the house of God.” It may be the temple, or it may be the little rustic synagogue, but it is ever Beth-el, the house of God. Go to it reverently, prayerfully, expectantly, dutifully.
2. Again, study to be quiet. Until God vouchsafe thee a revelation, be thou patient and obedient, for to draw nigh to hear (that is to hear His orders--to obey) is better than to offer the sacrifice.
3. Finally, be sober-minded. Try to see life steadily, and see it whole. One swallow does not make a summer, nor one dead leaf a winter; nor do acts of oppression prove that the whole of human society is rotten. No doubt bad men exist and bad things are done. It is hard to catch a rogue--especially if he be a big rogue, but everywhere there is some sort of government, an organized justice, one official above another right up to the highest, and the highest of all on earth exists for the sake of protecting the lowest. “The king is servant to the field.” No doubt it is often very imperfectly administered, nevertheless law exists on earth, and in the main justice is done; and all earthly law and earthly justice are but dim troubled reflections of an eternal heavenly law and a divine justice that rule over all things, and by which in time every oppressed one will be righted, and every oppressor receive his reward. (J. M. Gibbon.)
The words of the Preacher
It is not often in the Bible that we are challenged to hear the words of a great man, viewed from an earthly standpoint. He is represented as “king in Jerusalem”--a man of the highest social position. We cannot but wonder what he will say, seeing that he has only seen the upper side of life, and can have known nothing of what the poor understand by want, homelessness, and all the degradation of penury and an outcast condition. “Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 1:2). “Vanity,”--a light wind, a puff, a breath that passes away instantly. Here we have a judgment in brief. We long to enter into some detail, if not of argument yet of illustration, especially as this is one of the short sentences which a man might speak hastefully rather than critically and experimentally. We must ask the Preacher, therefore, to go somewhat into detail, that we may see upon what premises he has constructed so large a conclusion. He says that life is unprofitable in the sense of being unsatisfying. It comes to nothing. The eye and the ear want more and more. The eye takes in the whole sky at once, and could take in another and another hour by hour,--at least so it seems; and the ear is like an open highway,--all voices pass, no music lingers so as to exclude, the next appeal. In addition to all this, whatever we have in the hand melts. Gold and silver dissolve, and nought of our proud wealth remains. Much wants more, and more brings with it care and pain; so the wheel swings endlessly, always going to bring something next time, but never bringing it. Coheleth says that there is no continuance in life: “One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh.” You no sooner know a man than he dies. You make your election in the human crowd, saying, My heart shall rest here; and whilst the flush of joy is on your cheek, the loved one is caught away, like the dew of the morning. People enough, and more than enough,--crowds, throngs, whole generations, passing on as shadows pass, until death is greater than life upon the earth. Coheleth says that even nature itself became monotonous through its always being the same thing in the same way, as if incapable of originality and enterprise. The wind was veering, veering, veering,--spending itself in running round and round, but never getting beyond a small circuit; if it was not in the north it was in the south, or wherever it was it could be found in a moment, for it “whirleth about continually.” So with the rivers. They could make no impression upon the sea: they galloped, and surged, and foamed, being swollen by a thousand streams from the hills; and yet the sea swallowed them up in its thirst, and waited for them day by day, with room enough and to spare for all their waters. The eye, the ear, the sea, there was no possibility of satisfying,-prodigals and spendthrifts f And the sun was only a repetition, rising and going down evermore. Coheleth further says that there is no real variety in life. “The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be,” etc. Man longs for variety, and cannot secure it. The same things are done over and over again. Changes are merely accidental, not organic. All things are getting to be regarded as stale and slow. New colours are only new mixtures. New fashions are only old ones modified. In short, there is nothing new under the sun. “Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us.” New things are promised in the apocalyptic day. (Revelation 21:1). It will be found in the long run that the only possible newness is m character, in the motive of life and its supreme purpose (2 Corinthians 5:17). (J. Parker, D. D.)