Ecclesiastes
From ImmInstWiki
The First 'Immortalist'?
<NEEDS LOTS OF REFINEMENT WORK>
Through my research I have discovered that manifest contempt and genuine fear of mortality are ancient notions of the human history. They are by no means unique to me, in contrast to my original juvenile thought. A prominent instance I’d like to focus on naturally is the writings found and gathered to one volume, known as Ecclesiastes (in Hebrew: book of Kohelet). Ecclesiastes is a late book among the genre of biblical wisdom literature that belongs to the third section of the canon, known as Writings (“Ktuvim”). Kohelet, like me, seems to be a great lover of life, or more likely - the state of being alive; unfortunately, similar to me – he too had stumbled upon the insight of their warranted natural severance: death. His work, then, mainly focuses on finding the true value of life under the shadow of death and dissolution. Kohelet, however, has reached far different conclusions than I ever did; for that, a deep pessimistic approach is dominant in his speeches, unlike the far-reaching optimism that is so prevalent throughout mine. Nevertheless, both of us begin our intellectual campaigns from the exact same point of commencement: the acknowledgement of the preciousness of our conscious state of being alive, to our very selves. The fact that Kohelet’s unique, nonconformist masterpiece had survived so many generations never ceases to astound me, time and again. And in the very bible itself? If there is one thing I’m truly sorry for, is the fact that you will not be able to enjoy Kohelet’s work in its original form and beauty; as a native Hebrew speaker, I had no trouble reviewing the text in its original language. Personally, I’m not quite fond of translated literature, but I guess occasionally one simply has to compromise. But let us not delay any further, and move on to the composition itself. Initially, the text introduces us to the main character of the story that apparently had it all: “The words of the Preacher [refers to Kohelet], the son of David, king in Jerusalem. “ Following the first verse of introduction, The Preacher continues with a first person monologue that stretches until the near end of the book. According to traditional exegesis, Ecclesiastes has been written by the hands of King Solomon himself, during his elderly reign over the kingdom of Israel (~970 to 931 BC). Traditional annotators assert that Kohelet’s description as “the son of David” could apply only to Solomon, for his successors in Jerusalem were kings over the Kingdom of Judah only (After Solomon's death, Israel divided into two separate kingdoms: 10 tribes formed the northern Kingdom of Israel with its capital city at Samaria. The remaining 2 tribes [Judah and Benjamin] merged and formed the southern Kingdom of Judah, centered in Jerusalem). Kohelet describes himself as king over Israel. On the other hand, many modern researchers assert that the scripture has been most likely written by the hands of a non-Hellenized intellectual in the milieu of the second Temple in Jerusalem, in a much later era (dating roughly 250 BCE), since it comprises great influences of Greek philosophy and Persian-originated vocabulary. By this reasoning they assume that Kohelet’s description as “the son of David, king in Jerusalem” was pasted unto the text in much later times, as a method used to add special prestige to his unique writings.
The Futility of all Endeavors
”Vanity of vanities,” says the Preacher, “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity."
Kohelet’s preliminary remark pretty much abstracts the entire piece. Indeed, foreboding what is to come seems an easy task. It is worth mentioning that the word vanity in this context stands for meaningless, and not self-pride. Kohelet contemplates the life of men as he knows it, and comes up to one conclusion – “All is vanity”; our lives are rationally and spiritually profitless, with no permanent worth, and thus - lacking ultimate meaning. It is important to note, however, that Kohelet does not refer here to the abstract concept of being alive per se, but rather to its practical and realistic application, in which it eventually terminates, voluntarily or involuntarily. Kohelet, then, criticizes life pre-assuming they have an undeniable expiration date; and so, his negative critique naturally refers only to the concept of life under the shadow of death.
Throughout the text, Kohelet strenuously tries giving his expiring life a chance, avidly trying to find at least one element to make it valuable, despite its warranted dire fate. He fails miserably, and thus his pessimistic posture is felt through most of the text. Indeed, it sounds rather inconsistent in comparison to my earlier statement of Kohelet’s genuine love of life; rest assured, this confusion will be settled within the next couple of pages. At any rate, Kohelet lingers not, immediately raising his quintessential query:
-”What advantage does man have in all his work, Which he does under the sun?” -“A generation goes and a generation comes, But the earth remains forever.”
Kohelet considers the generational cycle of human lives and finds it utterly meaningless. The reason is that each and every part of it, despite its considerable efforts, is doomed to eventual failure. And so he asks himself: people live, people die, to what end? –If everything eventually terminates, what is the point in one’s arduous endeavors and achievements? –In a more general sense, what is the point in an unceasing routine of lives with no lasting values?
This is where his seemingly bitter critique spurs. Kohelet focuses his efforts on examining the overall pattern of human lives on this planet, which seems to be following a rather continual and unchanging repetition through the ages: birth, meager taste of life, gradual languish, quick ruin and oblivion. Repeat. For that, our lives as he sees them are aimless, dull, unenlightening and accomplish nothing of real value to ourselves. And so, the relative “immortality” of the earth virtually dwarfs its biosphere; for every living being is temporal, like passing shadows on a stage (the earth). This reasoning paves the way for the epitome of Kohelet’s reasoning - nothing practically changes; as one generation after another goes on in the same way as the previous one did, only to stumble across the same dire fate. Doing so, all personal value is being deserted and painfully forgotten. He illustrates his notion of changelessness with the following natural examples:
- “Also, the sun rises and the sun sets; And hastening to its place it rises there again.” -“Blowing toward the south, Then turning toward the north, The wind continues swirling along; And on its circular courses the wind returns.” -”All the rivers flow into the sea, Yet the sea is not full. To the place where the rivers flow, There they flow again.”
Kohelet looks at the patterns of nature (the course of the sun, the wind and the rivers) and finds implicit tedium in their repetitive seemingly-perpetual existence. He asks: what is their ultimate goal? Kohelet’s intention is not to criticize them, but to indicate that they have no achievable final end in sight. They are ceaselessly repeating, leading nowhere; and the same applies to the human generations in a general sense. What is their ultimate goal?
-”All things are wearisome; Man is not able to tell it.” -”The eye is not satisfied with seeing, Nor is the ear filled with hearing.” -”That which has been is that which will be, And that which has been done is that which will be done. So there is nothing new under the sun...”
Kohelet stalwartly projects the insight of nature’s changelessness on the course of human generations. So to speak, in the personal level - there is nothing on earth eventually worth striving and living for. It may be an advantage in the short term (while being alive), but sadly it fades away in the event of our demise. Then a new generation rises to take our place, and the cold apathetic cycle remains inviolate. “All things are wearisome”, then, in the face of death.
-”There is no remembrance of earlier things; And also of the later things which will occur, There will be for them no remembrance Among those who will come later still.”
No doubt, Kohelet’s musings made way to a deep sadness and frustration. We could easily spot lineaments of aversion from death in his words. Obviously he had believed that there is no way out of this cycle of purposelessness death binds us into. And so, he derives that human life as it is - is vain, since all living generations come to a distinct end, and the current living generation does not remember past generations; if it does – it does so for merely a small bunch of exceptionally salient individuals amongst thousands or millions – and even in their cases, only general and public information is remembered. Kohelet had probably expected to find his hope in commemoration, but to no avail. “All is vanity”, then, in the face of oblivion death bestows on individuals. On top of that, Kohelet mentions how future generations won’t differ at all, regrettably. Imagine how sad it must have felt for him knowing that no one shall ever remember the personal mysteries of his heart, his most private sufferings, deepest hopes and feelings, as all shall one day become lost. These features have undoubtedly been invaluable to Kohelet, similar to each and every one of us.
This is Kohelet’s fundamental notion of the Futility of all Endeavors – there is generally no point (or advantage) to any of our personal efforts, inasmuch as we are all destined to perish and be forgotten by our successors, only for a new generation to accomplish just the same purposeless fate. Incidentally, Kohelet’s tenet of the vanity of life under the shadow of death is even being strengthened elsewhere within the Old-Testament of the bible:
Psalms 39:5-6 – "Behold, You [God] have made my days as handbreadths, And my lifetime as nothing in Your sight; Surely every man at his best is a mere breath.” -"Surely every man walks about as a phantom; Surely they make an uproar for nothing; He amasses riches and does not know who will gather them.” Psalms 39:11 – "With reproofs You [God] chasten a man for iniquity; You consume as a moth what is precious to him; Surely every man is a mere breath” Psalms 144:4 – “Man is like a mere breath; His days are like a passing shadow.”
Kohelet’s famous phrase, “there is nothing new under the sun…”, has actually been adopted as an idiom. But in reality, is there truly nothing new today in comparison to ancient times? –Indeed, the general, vicious cycle of lives and deaths has remained perfectly intact up to this day. But then again, so many other aspects have changed in the most unforeseen manner, making our modern world alien to past civilizations by all means. Is there any assurance for a particular habitude to remain for ever? As for me, when it comes to the futility of all endeavors, I share the same opinion with Kohelet only on the personal level. It is, as I believe erroneous to put in comparison the repetitive dull cycle of nature and that of the human generations. While on the personal level death might be looting us of every material or intellectual yield, there is something even its most far-reaching arms fail to grasp: our collective wisdom; humanity isn’t just tediously repeating itself over the course of its generations, quite the opposite – it ameliorates. While death may destroy value on the personal level of perspective, could it entirely prevent generational hereditament of wisdom from taking place? We shall see.
The Futility of Wisdom
And so, in his ongoing quest to find meaning and lasting value in nonpermanent lives, Kohelet examines the theme of human wisdom (from the personal point of view). We learn about Kohelet’s great wisdom from three main sources: ( I ). His description as: “the son of David, king in Jerusalem”. The regal son of David is Solomon, no doubt. Solomon was commonly known for his great, exceptional wisdom. As noted before, this issue is generally considered to be disputable. ( II). In verse 9, of the last paragraph that is concluding the book, the narrator says: -“In addition to being a wise man, the Preacher [Kohelet] also taught the people knowledge; and he pondered, searched out and arranged many proverbs”. (III). Kohelet’s own description of his attainment of great wisdom throughout his life: -“I said to myself, "Behold, I have magnified and increased wisdom more than all who were over Jerusalem before me; and my mind has observed a wealth of wisdom and knowledge."
And so, Kohelet decides to try and use his exceptional wisdom, in search for answers:
-“And I set my mind to seek and explore by wisdom concerning all that has been done under heaven.” -”I have seen all the works which have been done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and striving after wind.”
Kohelet reveals that his great wisdom was actually the very agent that allowed his somber realization; how everything is done in vain, how every striving is done for nothing. And the same applies for each and every man, the more you’re educated, the more you learn – the more you are likely to understand how vain your life actually is (as it ends eventually, and along with it – the entirety of the personal value you have ever found and gathered), and morosely - how you cannot remedy it by your wisdom or any kind of earthly knowledge. No doubt, Kohelet would have been astounded to discover how much the view has changed in our days.
-“then I saw all the work of God, that a man cannot find out the work that is done under the sun. For though a man labors to discover it, yet he will not find it; moreover, though a wise man attempts to know it, he will not be able to find it.” -“What is crooked cannot be straightened and what is lacking cannot be counted.”
These are rather audacious, intuitive statements. Kohelet asks, what is the actual benefit of wisdom if men cannot change or “rectify” their sad nature with it? –Remember that despite of being a great thinker, Kohelet had nonetheless lived in ancient times, where industrialization was not even a myth yet; technology was primitive and science in its diapers. Any sort of possibility for significant human influence on the coercing nature has undoubtedly seemed nonrealistic and even absurd to him. Nevertheless, I’d reckon he might have thought quite differently if he had lived in more advanced times. Perhaps he might have hoped then, as do many inhabitants of today’s post-modern age of prodigious scientific breakthroughs. The incentive for these pessimistic statements will be illuminated very shortly.
-”Consider the work of God [i.e. nature]. For who can make that straight which he has made crooked?”
Kohelet fails to distinguish personal wisdom from its collective counterpart. While the personal wisdom is clearly doomed to dissolution (along with its possessing individual), collective one is destined for survival and continuity, and hopefully advancement as well. Indeed, there is no doubt that by means of personal wisdom alone the crooked could never become straightened; if humanity had been relying on it alone, it would never have reached where we stand today, tall and achievement-oriented. Imagine a world with no collective wisdom, in which every intellectual achievement is being completely dispersed with the death of its individual creator; if that was the case, I wouldn’t have bothered criticizing Kohelet for comparing our race to the repetitive, “gainless” course of nature. In real life, thankfully – the scene is much less gloomy. But for now, let’s get back to Kohelet’s critique:
-“Because in much wisdom there is much grief, and increasing knowledge results in increasing pain.” -“The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth”
The wise man, according to Kohelet, sees the lacking and crooked nature with great clarity, while the fool does not – that’s why increasing knowledge results in increment of pain, while the heart of a fool is satisfied and joyful; the fool is spared of the harsh insight. But perhaps theoretically, as Kohelet suggests, “not seeing” (that is, being a fool) might turn out for the better, as it shall save great grief and affliction, for ultimately – wise men, like fools – shall never know how to cheat and alter Mother Nature’s laws and demands by overcoming their “natural death sentence”, how to escape the seemingly-endless cycle of purposelessness. In practice, everyone is in the same boat, and wisdom brings about pain as it makes us aware of something crooked we could never make straighten again. It is quite interesting to note how Kohelet and I have started at the exact same point only to reach wholly contrasting conclusions. While Kohelet’s environment has soon provided him with utter despair from the potential of collective wisdom, mine has done exactly the opposite. It is, as I have always pleaded, that human potential should never be underestimated.
-“Wisdom strengthens the wise More than ten rulers of the city.” -“And I saw that wisdom excels folly as light excels darkness.” -“The wise man's eyes are in his head, but the fool walks in darkness. And yet I know that one fate befalls them both.”
Kohelet continues elaborating on wisdom; apparently, it does seem to retain several advantages after all. Here wisdom is clearly portrayed as being superior to a lack of it, ignorance. Wise men are capable of distinguishing between good and bad, they see where they’re heading and are capable of using discernment, while the fool is mentally blind - blunders on in the darkness, with his eyes closed. But then again, death comes to all. Both (wise men and fools) are destined to perish and be forgotten in a terrible oblivion. Both end in the same remorseless darkness. I imagine this fact sheds light on his earlier negative criticism on wisdom (ignorance is bliss).
-”Then I said to myself, ‘As is the fate of the fool, it will also befall me. Why then have I been extremely wise?’ So I said to myself, ‘This too is vanity.’"
Despite the short-term advantages of wisdom, if eventually one fate finds all men, what is the point and value of gaining it? –In any case it will be lost to the man who held it some day. This is, according to Kohelet, the true vanity of personal wisdom. He carries on:
-“For there is no lasting remembrance of the wise man as with the fool, inasmuch as in the coming days all will be forgotten. And how the wise man and the fool alike die!” -“So I hated life for the work which had been done under the sun was grievous to me; because everything is futility and striving after wind.”
Both sages and fools are destined not only to crumble into ashes, but to eventually be forgotten from the human history, and the same applies for their markings. The bottom line is that neither accomplishes more than the other (from the individual point of view). Kohelet questions how he can truly consider himself as being wiser than the fool while both come to the same end, when the mental achievement of the sage is being annihilated in virtually the same grievous way of the fool. This reasoning is unquestionably laden with deep despair, as in the next verse – declares Kohelet his feelings regarding life, as it is. But what did Kohelet truly hate? –His state of being alive? His great wisdom? Or what is about to bring it a dire severance? –Death. We could indirectly learn of his general outlook on death from the following verse:
-“I applied my heart to know, to search and seek out wisdom and the reason of things, To know the wickedness of folly, even of foolishness and madness. And I find more bitter than death the woman whose heart is snares and nets, Whose hands are fetters.”
Kohelet describes the woman whose heart is snares and nets (generally referring to scheming women; deceivers and women that lead men astray by seduction) as being bitterer than death. It is, as I believe, that Kohelet had slightly overstated this description in order to emphasize its severity. Nevertheless, his outlook on death is undeniably clear. And so, Kohelet confesses that life has become quite insipid to him because of its pointlessness. Life’s pointlessness is solely being caused by its temporality, nothing else – its distinct, unobjectionable destruction, its inevitable culmination: death, erasure and oblivion. I have always been wondering what he might have thought on the possibility of having a true, non-fantastical unceasing life span, or at least possessing the ability to postpone death to the very true desirable moment, assuming it even exits.
Nature’s Beauty
-”What profit has the workman in that in which he labors? I have seen the hard exertions which God has given to the sons of men to be exercised with” -“He has made everything beautiful in its time.”
Now this is truly fascinating. The thought of time has turned his attention to the beauty of the world around him. Kohelet acknowledges that everything is beautiful in its time; that is – everything in nature possesses a limited period of beauty, of immense value. In essence, everything in nature is beautiful on the conceptual level. But sadly, in practice the situation is a bit less favorable, as everything on earth eventually decays and perishes, notwithstanding its conceptual sublime beauty and transient value. Its marvelous beauty fades, in the end; and that’s what truly counts. Within the realm of nature, as it is, the true and sole culmination of every beautiful object’s potential is dissolution, nothing else. For that, the unending repetition of purposelessness continues. What is the point in this indifferent cycle of blossom and withering, of life and death? -What is the true value of a transient beauty? –Why can’t something remain beautiful and valuable without boundaries? I’ve been suggested by one of my criticizers and close friends, that perhaps the true purpose of this cycle is to give us men the very insight of beauty. That is, he explained - how could we ever learn to appreciate beauty if there isn’t non-beauty around to compare it to? –This is a wise reasoning, I have to confess; but still, that does not shed light on the totality of the cycle. This concern obliges us to consider human life, which, like everything else around - is beautiful in its time. Nevertheless, human life is by no means like the rest, as all would unanimously agree; for the individual human being, the dissolution of his or her body and state of being alive also means the future disability to appreciate beauty or contemn non-beauty. Thus, my wise criticizer’s suggestion has literally failed to justify the destruction of one particular beauty: human life. True, it might explain the overall pattern, or if you’d like – the purpose of nature’s vicious circle, but when it comes to the individual point of view – his or her personal destruction, as per the cycle of everything else, actually performs the very opposite of my criticizer’s original premise. It is, as I have always believed, that the individual should always be put in the focus of attention; later on, when I’ll be laying out the philosophia vita (the philosophy of life), arguing for the invaluableness of the human individual, this point will be stressed accordingly. Destruction of one’s state of being alive also means the abolition of his or her ability to perceive the surrounding beauty, experience personal happiness and satisfaction. Casting wisdom aside for awhile, are these two core potential abilities not worthy of lasting preservation? -If they aren’t, then, what is? We’ll see what Kohelet says on this a bit later ahead.
-“Also he [God] has set everlastingness in their heart, yet in such a way that man cannot find out the work that God has done from the beginning, even to the end.”
This is one of the key lines in Kohelet’s composition. Unlike the rest of the animal kingdom, God has granted man the awareness of everlastingness. Many argue that this verse displays the very basic curse of mankind: our unique cognitive capacities which grant us the ability for highly-sophisticated abstract thinking and contemplation. This unparalleled skill bestows us mortal-men the awareness of a theoretical possibility for something to be everlasting, immortal; we could speculate on eternity if ever desired, and this brings us a dire craving for it. We are not restricted in our thoughts like animals, capable of comprehending the true meaning and repercussions of temporality [i.e. extinction]; capable of separating it from the quality of permanence; capable of bestowing in our minds speculative eternity to the transient beauties we see withering every day, the lives of our brethren included. Why curse then? –In the second part of the verse, claims Kohelet that despite all of our mental efforts, our unique cognitive capacities and our exceptional wisdom – mankind will never learn the true “works of God”, the secret ways and truths of nature, particularly the secret of everlastingness. Thus, according to his reasoning – our collective wisdom is puny and worthless; human beings are cursed by their craving for the unattainable, by having the urge for striving after nothing. Also, according to this negative point of view, perhaps lacking this vexatious curse, our unique mental capacities and the ability to comprehend eternity and thus yearn for it – might turn out for the better, as it shall save great grief and seemingly futile efforts (ignorance is bliss, again). Incidentally, I wonder if it is possible to deduce the superiority of everlastingness over transience from the above verse. In this picture, everlastingness is depicted as something exalted, divine, highly alluring albeit far-fetched from the mere hands of mortal men. Then again, according to the bible - man, ever since his primordial “intellectual awakening”, has deeply craved for it:
Genesis 3:22 -“And the LORD God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever”
The bible depicts everlastingness as a theoretically possible feat. It is interesting to note how people throughout the ages have always yearned for perpetuating at least a part of their unique selves; even the age-old Christian hope for resurrection and eternal spiritual life stems from the basic desire to grant individuals and their fallen loved-ones lasting value; this exemplifies our yearning for everlastingness. The same applies for the doctrines of Islam and the absolute majority of religions; in all of these, blissful immortality is far more important than every material effort done on this transient world. Everlastingness, in essence, is clearly superior to a state of transience; what are these mere eighty (more or less) years of existence here on this earth in comparison to a coming spiritual eternity of blissfulness? –Surely it is more valuable, and even deserves the devotion of our current meaningless and transient lives to ensure our future post-death benefit from it, as many orthodox religionists assert.
1 Corinthians 15:22, 26 – “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all will be made alive… The last enemy that will be abolished is death.”
The yearning for everlastingness is by no means unique to the Judeo-Christian bible alone. Death conquering proclamations and various indications on man’s desire to transcend or even abolish his state of physical transience are found on numerous myths and ancient tales of human civilization.
Kohelet’s despair is quite evident; no doubt he would have been more than happy to embrace a true and feasible prospect of everlastingness for his personal being; finally granting the beauty that he is true and lasting value. This can be easily derived from his former manifest regarding the futility of life, all endeavors and wisdom under the bitter shadow of death. His next assertions of God’s incomprehensible creation (“man cannot find out the work that God has done”) and the hopelessness of our collective wisdom, then, clearly stem from his chronic frustration. This will be explained shortly. At any rate, we could learn of Kohelet’s frustration from life by examining another part of his analysis, regarding human tyranny:
-“Then I returned and considered all the oppression that is done under the sun: And look! The tears of the oppressed, But they have no comforter-- On the side of their oppressors there is power, But they have no comforter.” -“Therefore I praised the dead who were already dead, more than the living who are still alive.” -“Yet, better than both is he who has never existed, Who has not seen the evil work that is done under the sun”
Estimating his despair from life as it is seems an easy task; according to Kohelet, not only does life lack lasting value and ultimate meaning, but also it is full of injustice and cruelty. To emphasize this matter, he literally praises the dead or the unborn for not having to be a part of this vicious circle of purposelessness. Does that mean that Kohelet values death over life, perhaps supporting the execution of suicide? –Let’s see. Despite his glaring pessimism and frustration from life as it is, Kohelet has eventually chosen to embrace an interesting conclusion given the current circumstances he had came up with earlier (“what is crooked cannot be straightened…”); after agreeing that he’ll never be able to alter the fate of his life, he had allegedly chosen to come to terms with it. Deal with what there is. He has chosen optimism, for what it’s worth.
-“I know that there is no good in them [our lives], but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life. And also that every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good in all his labour. It is the gift of God.”
Kohelet clearly acknowledges satisfaction of hunger and quenching of thirst as great gifts of life, as they are universally enjoyable; they grant pleasure for the time being. Also, he acknowledges the value (albeit transient) of the feelings of happiness and joy to the individual. Well, if I’ve already been given life, why not at least indulge on its benefits for the time being…?
-“I know that whatsoever God does will remain forever; nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it, and God does it that men should fear before Him.” -“That which has been is now; and that which is to be has already been; and God requires that which is past.”
This is Kohelet’s final outlook on the promise of the unique and exceptional wisdom of our species; it is vain, it will never accomplish our intrinsic desire for unraveling the secrets of nature, particularly the secret of everlastingness; thus, he argues that the natural repeating course of life and death, of utter purposelessness, will remain forever inviolate; as it is impervious to change. Kohelet also considers the reason for this; he claims that God has approved the cycle so that men will fear before him, powerless and dependent upon his each and every wish. By this, Kohelet depicts God as a mighty tyrant in comparison to the meager man.
Kohelet actually finds great value in the conceptual state of life per se; he recognizes the benefits of it. The state of being alive allows us to feel happy and perform satisfying feats; this is definitely beautiful and worthwhile. He even calls it a gift from God; a pretty unusual utterance for a nihilist like Kohelet. Sadly, this gift, like the rest of nature’s beauty – turns into unsightly dust, after all. It is, as I believe, that Kohelet had been struggling to choose between two reasonable paths alone:
I. To admit: “I know my life is insignificant and lacks lasting value, I know that every personal endeavor I have ever made will matter no more for me, I acknowledge my life will be painfully forgotten upon the event of my demise; my resistance is futile; and so I choose to hate life as it is, for it is nothing – each and every pleasure it allows is vain; I know that one I day I will be no more, my precious consciousness and ability to perceive happiness will be lost and perished, thus – the pleasures that I experience now had actually never been. There will be no one to reminisce and indulge on the sweet taste of my lost memories, thus their fulfillment is futile. I choose to forfeit my life, for whatever path I may choose, either bliss or sorrow, the result wouldn’t differ a bit.” II. To admit: “I know my life is insignificant and lacks lasting value, I know that every personal endeavor I have ever made will matter no more to me, I acknowledge my life will be painfully forgotten upon the event of my demise; my resistance if futile; and so I choose to at least embrace what brings me happiness and satisfaction while I possess consciousness. Carpe diem. I choose to live for my gladness alone, as long as I can perceive it; to hell with my dire fate, I will not go like sheep to the slaughter!” Despite his ongoing pessimistic approach, Kohelet surprises us by suddenly forsaking it, inferring that the best we could possibly do, given the plight of our impermanence and the lack of hope to change it, is to choose the latter option; to at least relish on the gifts that hold such a great beauty on the conceptual level: feelings of happiness and satisfaction. We should, according to Kohelet, focus the entirety of our efforts to pursue what gives us pleasure here and now, without contemplating our warranted doom and the long-run futility of our endeavors; thus, that means that if we are to be engaged in a particular effort that holds a promise of yielding fruits only after our deaths, we are ought to invest time in it only if it’ll supply us with feelings of enjoyment and satisfaction in return, at the present time. I, too, agree that an optimistic approach in this case is much more preferable given the circumstances Kohelet had dictated; however, it is, as I believe, that another reasonable path is available for choice today, rather than pre-assuming the inextricability and indelibility of the natural, vicious circle of life and death. I’ll present it shortly. Psychologically, it is very likely that Kohelet had chosen optimism as an implement to manage existential anxiety, his stressing fear of death, oblivion and destruction. First, I’d like to present a brief comment on Kohelet’s view of human collective wisdom. Clearly, he has failed seeing one of its greatest values: it is alive and undying, never vain. Human wisdom passes from one generation to another, intensifies and becomes closer to perfection with every living breath and dying moan. It is by no means restricted to the personal expiring level alone. We boundlessly venture, discovering and developing new technologies and sophisticated disciplines to affect our naturally coercing environment; creating new sciences, widening our horizons, learning and deriving more and more empirical truths on the mysterious wherefores of our existence. Most of these ventures and advancements, despite of pushing forward the human race as a whole, also supply the responsible individuals with great feelings of happiness and immense satisfaction for their contribution. Wisdom isn’t forgotten, at least not in the generic-racial level. This is the quintessential attribute of our species. And today, beyond a shadow of doubt, many have begun to internalize it. Nothing new under the sun? –Think again. And yet a noted implication originates from this particular matter. Collective wisdom is, after all, a direct product of personal wisdom; it is, one may say, entirely dependent on it. Indeed, without people to contemplate their surroundings there would have been no prospect for collective achievements. Every practical product of wisdom, then, starts its glorious journey deep within the individual’s mind alone; residing on the personal level. Thus, without personal wisdom to increase, its prosperous and lasting counterpart would never have managed to reach the proportions we happen to know so well today. If collective wisdom has a glorious and lasting value, then, personal wisdom is necessarily obliged to possess the exact equivalent amount. My alternate path for life, then, would be to invest in both human personal and collective wisdom, in addition to the pursuit of personal happiness and satisfaction. It is, as many scientists and great thinkers alike believe, that perhaps the products of wisdom (progress and discovery), would one day lead to the attainment of our ultimate age-old desire: the abolishment of the curse of transience (death), giving lasting values to the natural (albeit exceptional) beauties we all are. What is currently crooked could perhaps be straightened; and the prospect is not so remote, as we’ll later find out.
I have received many sharp and perceptive critiques regarding this particular segment. The bottom line of the absolute majority was explicit:
“Don’t you see? –Kohelet has found something to hold on to, something that is worth living for: happiness and satisfaction. This couple of features transcends life’s impermanence, bestowing it lasting value!”
Indeed, as I have initially admitted, this argument seems to retain some sense; perhaps Kohelet has lastly found what he was looking for? –The gift of God… Nevertheless, as my research developed further, I have discovered this argument to be flawed from its very essence. While indeed Kohelet acknowledges the great value of the ability to perceive feelings of happiness and experience satisfaction, he does so in the conceptual level alone. Their great values do not last, and for that he protests (see citation ahead). Like everything else under the great shadow of death, one’s feelings and even memories of happiness and satisfaction are being destroyed and forgotten in the exact same horrific manner. Their invaluable beauty of the moment withers and fades into an unsightly nothingness; this is painful and literally unthinkable for the man. Happiness and satisfaction, being sweet gifts in essence, in practice – lose all of their worth. This is the plain crooked reality; straightness could be achieved only by revoking their qualities of being transient. The state of life, for itself, retains the greatest of all values; yet this value exists only when the state of life does, that is - when the individual living being retains the ability to fathom value or non-value. Impermanent life then, according to Kohelet - is vain, and the same applies for all of its assembling features. Thus, his earlier advice for optimism does not mean he had found what he was looking for (lasting value in nonpermanent life), but merely an acknowledgment that he’s got nothing to lose; being so, why not at least relish on what could have been having great value and beauty with non-permanent life? –I’m alive at any rate, being happy is beautiful, being satisfied even more; if there’s nothing I can do to preserve these beautiful gifts in the long run, why not at least enjoy them while I can? Happiness and satisfaction then, similar to the quality of wisdom - are advantageous for the short term only; they have no true value after the ability to perceive them expires, upon the end one’s state of life they are not felt nor they are ever to be remembered again. This is a sad understanding for Kohelet, as we may learn from his description of attempting to put them into his trial:
-“I said in my heart, "Come now, I will test you with mirth; therefore enjoy pleasure"; but surely, this also was vanity.” -“I said of laughter--"Madness!"; and of mirth, "What does it accomplish?"” -”I searched in my heart how to gratify my flesh with wine, while guiding my heart with wisdom, and how to lay hold on folly, till I might see what was good for the sons of men to do under heaven all the days of their lives.” -”I made my works great, I built myself houses, and planted myself vineyards. I made myself gardens and orchards, and I planted all kinds of fruit trees in them. I made myself water pools from which to water the growing trees of the grove. I acquired male and female servants, and had servants born in my house. Yes, I had greater possessions of herds and flocks than all who were in Jerusalem before me.” -“I also gathered for myself silver and gold and the special treasures of kings and of the provinces. I acquired male and female singers, the delights of the sons of men, and musical instruments of all kinds.” -”So I became great and excelled more than all who were before me in Jerusalem. Also my wisdom remained with me. “ -“Whatever my eyes desired I did not keep from them. I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure, For my heart rejoiced in all my labor; And this was my reward from all my labor.” -“Then I looked on all the works that my hands had done and on the labor in which I had toiled; And indeed all was vanity and grasping for the wind. There was no profit under the sun.”
The Futility of Labor and Wealth
-“As he [man] came from his mother's womb, naked shall he return, to go as he came; And he shall take nothing from his labor which he may carry away in his hand.” -”And this also is a severe evil-- Just exactly as he came, so shall he go. And what profit has he who has labored for the wind?”
This is but another aspect of life not worth living for. According to Kohelet, the fact that men leave their bequest and the outcomes of all their efforts after their deaths - is a great folly. What men build up, others pull down; in the end, we gain nothing. Considering this, he asks himself a reasonable question - what is the point in working hard and gaining wealth throughout your life if in the end you are destined to leave it all behind for your heir? (Remember that Kohelet describes himself as being ‘king over Jerusalem’, and depicts his personal wealth as greater than any other man’s).
-“Thus I hated all the fruit of my labor for which I had labored under the sun, for I must leave it to the man who will come after me. “
And it is not going to matter what type of man your heir is, or if he truly deserves your fruits of labor or not, either way he shall have it all and the freedom to spend it to his liking; what a somber thought.
-“And who knows whether he will be a wise man or a fool? Yet he will have control over all the fruit of my labor for which I have labored by acting wisely under the sun. This too is vanity.” -”Therefore I completely despaired of all the fruit of my labor for which I had labored under the sun.” -“When there is a man who has labored with wisdom, knowledge and skill, then he gives his legacy to one who has not labored with them. This too is vanity and a great evil.”
Again Kohelet has erred by assuming that what his wisdom had produced (fruits of labor) would eventually crumble into nothing, only to be dismissed by future generations. Humanity progresses – scientifically, technologically and perceptually, although in quite a languid pace at his times, there was never a single moment throughout the human history in which development has completely came to a halt. Progress has always persisted and always will. And today, the rate is accelerating.
Angels of Youth, Prosperity and Life - Demons of Old-Age, Decay and Death
The book of Ecclesiastes is but one of many examples that illustrate the fact that people have been contemplating the meaning of their personal lives under the shadow of death thousands of years ago. It is clear that many non-conformist individuals throughout history despised or even feared mortality, seeing no real lasting value in their lives under the great ominous shadow of death. It most likely required great amounts of courage to face the orthodox society of their times, vaguely sheltered behind their barriers of religion and blind-faith. Many, Kohelet included, have acknowledged the futility of any of their potential efforts to revoke their imminent dire fate; however, many others have taken steps, and some have even dedicated the entirety of their lives to find a solution to this concern; they had embarked on a quest for physical immortality. As for Kohelet himself, merely a poor anachronism. As we’ll later find out, Kohelet had acknowledged death not only as the mere end of his material life on this earth, but as the final end of his comprehensive existence as well. In a nutshell, Kohelet asserts that as long as life is temporary, its only meaning lies in what eventually will come of it – death and oblivion. As I have earlier commented, it is very unlikely to believe that Kohelet had truly hated the state of being alive, instead - his deep frustration and negative feelings towards his personal life were merely caused by the lack of hope, something to hold on to, while the Grim Reaper casts his menace; the same applies for his optimistic live for the moment doctrine. In fact, nearing the end of the book, Kohelet ditches his pessimistic stance, just for a little while, and reveals his true opinion on the conceptual state of life per se. He also delivers his thoughts on youthful, healthy lives, without decay, aging and death.
-”The light is pleasant, and it is good for the eyes to see the sun.” -“Indeed, if a man should live many years, let him rejoice in them all, and let him remember the days of darkness, for they will be many. Everything that is to come will be futility.”
Light is a common biblical metaphor for life. Indeed, Kohelet has clearly noted the beauty and advantage of being alive, being “something”, seeing the sun; yet what’s coming next, the days of darkness (referring to the process of aging, decay and the culmination of death) are cruelly ruining the experience. The days of darkness are stealing all of life’s immense beauty, exploiting and pillaging its advantages, bringing it down and reducing it to utter nothingness, futility. One must always keep them in mind, denial is wrong. Kohelet continues to elaborate on the wonders of health and youth and the accursedness of aging, decay and death.
-“Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near when you will say, "I have no delight in them"
It is worth mentioning that the aforementioned term, “your Creator”, according to modern bible exegesis, might actually be referring to one’s health, and not to God. This postulated translation error originates from the duality in which the original Hebrew term, “Bor’eh’cha”, can be interpreted - “your creator” or “your health”; from this point of view – the message is clear, take care of your health, be responsible; being ill during the beautiful period of youth is not recommended, as you’ll miss something you’ll never be able to restore. Kohelet advises us not to take our youth for granted, as eventually it will fade away, leaving in our hands nothing but terrible days of weakness, pain and despair (referring to old age) – to such an extent that we’ll have no more interest in life (due to the ravage of many faculties to gain happiness and satisfaction). Kohelet then continues to elaborate on the imminent days of darkness, the terrible, warranted state of old-age; not only does it sap all vigor and zest out of our lives, leaving us torn, cold, bitter and incapacitated, but it also eagerly prods and encourages death to come along and deliver the very final insult: total erasure of our earthly achievements, memories, aspirations, dreams, emotions, our very personalities, cognition and sentience – everything we are and ever were; our lives. Kohelet uses a neat allegory in order to limn the cursed process of human aging.
-“before the sun and the light, the moon and the stars are darkened, and clouds return after the rain”
At first, Kohelet vividly presents a gradual process, from immense light to utter darkness; from the glory of the prime of life to inevitable old-age, weakness and death. The biggest known light source of Kohelet’s times was no other than the sun, thus – in this verse, Kohelet uses it as a metaphor for the prime of life - youth, the grandest level of vitality. First the light of the sun douses, then the illumination of the “lesser” lights – the stars and the moon, and eventually – one is left in total shrouding darkness, where dark clouds make the skies turbid after the downpour; metaphorically, old age is sullen like winter.
-“in the day that the watchmen of the house tremble, and mighty men stoop, the grinding ones stand idle because they are few, and those who look through windows grow dim.”
Here Kohelet picturesquely depicts the failing faculties of old age, resembling them to the gradual collapse of an old house. The trembling watchmen of the house are the shaking hands of the old-man, the mighty men which stoop are the legs which can no longer fully bear the weight of their owner (since humans are bipedal, the pelvic region and spinal column tend to get worn, creating severe locomotion difficulties in old age), and the grinders which cease or are few are the teeth which have mainly decayed or fallen out, and are no longer any use for grinding, and what looks out of the windows are the eyes whose sight is hurt and dimmed.
-”and the doors on the street are shut as the sound of the grinding mill is low”
Kohelet continues to elaborate this sad picture and portrays a scene in which an old man eats with difficulty with little use of his overly decayed teeth - the shut doors may be the lips as the man grows weaker, along with the non-use of the teeth as eating and drinking becomes difficult; this reference may also be to the approach of deafness, the doors being closed so that he can no longer hear sounds.
-“and one will arise at the sound of the bird, and all the daughters of song will sing softly.”
In this sorrowful scene, we see an old-man who can no longer sleep well through the night and rises early with the birds. What’s even more saddening is the fact that he can no longer hear the songbirds (the daughters of song) clearly so as to enjoy their music. Or the idea may be that when through the dimness he catches the song of the early bird he rises as he always has, only to remember that he cannot hear their songs properly, and that life no longer offers him what it used to.
-“Furthermore, men are afraid of a high place and of terrors on the road”
As one ages, heights can become a serious problem, especially as his sense of balance worsens and he become afraid to misjudge distances and fall over the edge. Traveling also becomes a nightmare, both because of stumbling weakness, and the evident defenselessness against any sort of danger.
-”the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags himself along, and desire no longer is stirred.”
This curious picture is commonly interpreted as an awakening of nature, around the old-man, while unfortunately he suffers from the exact reverse effect; decadence, the fall of desire, appetite, sexual lusts and instincts.
This segment was copied with consent from Forma Aeternus: A Quest for Enduring Beauty by Daniel Stein --Inarchunite 16:32, 8 Aug 2005 (PDT)
