“One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth forever. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose. The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to his circuits. All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again. All things are full of labour; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, not the ear filled with hearing.”

Mark says, he remembers “those verses striking a power chord with me when I read them on a bright autumn day in 1980.”

He explains that his ephany was a “powerful religious feeling” which “nearly brought me to tears.” . . . I read the the remainder of the book eagerly, naively hoping to find its resolution.” Mark goes on to describe his version of the limits of human thought.

Perhaps, though, the haunting feeling of inadequacy we sometimes get–the one I associate with reading Ecclesastes (1:4-8), being surrounded by desert mountains, or looking into a star-filled night sky–is also ultimately hopeful, because it tells us something about our capacity to sense that which we cannot know. Perhaps that sense of smallness comes from our spirit’s sense of how limited our vision is.”

Mark J. Nielsen in Dialogue (vol 42:3)

Barney E. Warren

Cast thy bread upon the water,
‘Twill return in many days;
Crumbs of truth from Jesus scatter,
All along thy pilgrim ways.

Refrain:
Cast thy bread upon the water,
It will soon return again;
Cast thy bread upon the water,
Jesus says ’tis not in vain.

Cast thy bread upon the water,
Christ will watch the rolling wave,
As it ripples slowly onward,
To the soul He seeks to save.

Cast thy bread upon the water,
Let it spread from pole to pole;
And the prayers of patient toilers
Soon will yield some precious soul.

Cast thy bread upon the water,
Trusting it is not in vain,
For the lost and wand’ring sinner
May be gathered back again.

“Words from a wise man’s mouth are gracious, but a fool is consumed by his own lips.” 10:12

from Barry Hamilton

“The second maverick in the Bible [after Job] is the author of the Book of Ecclesiastes, another book that honors the questions and makes peace with not knowing. Scholars often begin the study of Ecclesiastes with the question of how it sneaked into the canon in the first place. ‘Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,’ it declares right off the bat, causing us all to shift uncomfortably in our seats. It’s stange, existential stuff, but the book was too beautiful, too wise, and (yes) too pious to leave out. Work, study, rejoice in your labors, seek wisdom, but don’t assume the battle goes to the strong or riches to the learned. Time and chance happen to us all.”

“Like Job, Ecclesiastes is almost free of ideology. It’s more like a self-help book, advising its readers to focus on the day-to-day, the here and now. It has an almost Buddhist mindfulness quality to it. Accept the world and what it brings. Love what is. There is nothing to do but rejoice, do good, and be grateful.”

“The advice is so beautiful and comforting it feels good just to hear the words. Listen to some of the most beautiful English prose ever written, framed as words from the Teacher. It comes from an oral culture. It was written to be spoken out loud.”

[Ecclesiastes 3:1-8]

“Maybe the Teacher is trying to teach us that we ought simply to be glad we are alive. We ought to stay awake and pay attention. The Teacher tells us we live in a world of staggering complexity and beauty. The world is a mystery. But though we don’t know how the world works, we do know that it is and that it is spendid. Try to stay awake. Ecclesiastes is not about pursuing rewards but about living in the present. Live right here, right now, in the complex, beautiful present. Wake up!”