Sermon for August 1, 2010
Often, before writing a sermon, I'll use facebook and twitter to ask my friends and acquaintances for their thoughts and insights into the scripture passage. When I did this Friday, one of my friends from Seminary immediately shot back: "I'd give my input, but it's all vanity and striving after wind."
If I were truly wise, and if we had a giant screen here in the sanctuary, and if the worship service lasted two-and-a-half hours, I would sit down, shut up, and let you watch the movie Forrest Gump as a guide through today's scripture text. But fortunately (or unfortunately) for you, I am far from wise, we have no screen, and I have been strictly instructed to unlock the secrets of wisdom and the universe in a neat and tidy 15 minutes.
There are three ancient books that together form the "wisdom" tradition of the Old Testament: Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes. All in some way attempt to answer, among other things, the philosophical question "What is the end of wisdom?" or to phrase it differently, "What is the objective, the purpose, the goal of wisdom?" Depending on how the question is answered, the related questions "What is the meaning of life?" and "How should we live?" flow naturally, and are also addressed.
The most ancient of these is the book of Job -- for more on Job's answer to the meaning-of-life question, <begin shameless plug here> you can join me at 5pm next Sunday night, where I'll be leading a folk music rendition of the book of Job as part of the worship service for the Presbyterian Church in El Paso, which meets Sunday nights this month here at 1st Pres <end shameless plug>.
Proverbs is perhaps the most well known of the Wisdom books -- it's answer to the "life questions" is also the most simple: To "find favor and good repute in the sight of God and of people. Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insight. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths" (Proverbs 3:4-7).
Of these three ancient wisdom texts, Ecclesiastes is the latest, and the most subtle. It has been regarded as cynical, dark, pessimistic, and also, in a paper I recently read by a young seminary student (at the time) by the name of Robert P. Reno, as tongue-in-cheek satire, wherein the book's author creates an over-the-top persona of all the things he argues against to drive home his witty, irreverent point. Personally, I find Ecclesiastes, along with the book of Job, to be one of the most profound and interesting books of the Bible.
However you view Ecclesiastes, it is certainly complex, and difficult to penetrate. Here's where it might help to have a tour guide. How many of you have seen the movie Forrest Gump? For those who haven't, I'll try to do it justice in summary, but I highly recommend seeing it for yourself.
The film opens with a single feather, floating aimlessly on the wind, spiraling past trees, houses, cars, and people, changing directions unpredictably several times before gently coming to rest precisely at the foot of Forrest Gump, who reaches down and picks it up. Forrest is, in his own words, a "simple man." Actually, his IQ is about as low as it can be without quite being considered mentally retarded. The film follows him through a series of unlikely and seemingly random events that span American history and culture from the 1950s to the late 80's. In addition to meeting rock stars, presidents, and cultural icons, Forrest Gump shares the screen with four principal characters: His mother, "Mamma," his childhood sweetheart, Jenny, his best friend Bubba, and his commanding officer and later business partner, Lieutenant Dan. Their stories parallel that of Forrest, and each offers insight into the philosophical questions raised by the film, by the feather, and by our biblical text.
"Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher . . . all is vanity." The word "vanity" is from the Hebrew word "Hebel," which some translations render as "meaningless" and still others as "futile." It can also be translated as "inconstant," "transitory," or "unpredictable." Unpredictable. Or in the words of Forrest's mamma, "Life is a box of chocolates...you never know what you're gonna get.
After laying out this thesis, the author of Ecclesiastes tells of his first attempt to answer the great philosophical questions of life:
I said to myself, "Let's go for it -- experiment with pleasure, have a good time!" But there was nothing to it, nothing but smoke.
What do I think of the fun-filled life? Insane! Inane! My verdict on the pursuit of happiness? Who needs it? With the help of a bottle of wine and all the wisdom I could muster, I tried my level best to penetrate the absurdity of life. I wanted to get a handle on anything useful we mortals might do during the years we spend on this earth.
Oh, I did great things: built houses, planted vineyards, designed gardens and parks and planted a variety of fruit trees in them, made pools of water to irrigate the groves of trees. I bought slaves, male and female, who had children, giving me even more slaves; then I acquired large herds and flocks, larger than any before me in Jerusalem. I piled up silver and gold, loot from kings and kingdoms. I gathered a chorus of singers to entertain me with song, and -- most exquisite of all pleasures -- voluptuous maidens for my bed.
Oh, how I prospered! I left all my predecessors in Jerusalem far behind, left them behind in the dust. What's more, I kept a clear head through it all. Everything I wanted I took -- I never said no to myself. I gave in to every impulse, held back nothing. I sucked the marrow of pleasure out of every task -- my reward to myself for a hard day's work!
Then I took a good look at everything I'd done, looked at all the sweat and hard work. But when I looked, I saw nothing but smoke. Smoke and spitting into the wind. There was nothing to any of it. Nothing.
