Perhaps
I do like a good old whinge now and again but now and again as good as I think
I am at this particular pastime I am put to shame by an expert, an expert I
occasionally meet when I'm out for a walk or just doing the shopping. I was in
supermarket the other day when I met this expert - I've known him for years. I
mean he is a miserable so-and-so. Anyway he was just leaving the check-out as I
was heading towards the automated check out. "How are you Nick?" I
called out to him and he looked at me in his characteristic world weary way and
replied. "Well I'm still breathing which is about as much as I can hope
for." "I think you can hope
for a bit more than that!" I called after him as he plodded out of the
building under his own exquisite cloud of despondency. I recalled as I watched
him leave, that I had rarely if ever had a joyful conversation with Nick. But
in one short sentence, that morning in the supermarket he had excelled
himself in his capacity for gloom and doom; taking self-pitying pessimism to
new heights. At such times I am wont to remember that quote attributed to J.
Robert Oppenheimer which goes, "The optimist
thinks this is the best of all possible worlds. The pessimist fears it is
true."
One
of the things, I feel, about pessimism and negativity is that it gets
everywhere, whether it's simply an underlying doubt or the party pooper that rains
on your parade, marring even the happiest occasion. And if miserable-ism can
find an 'in' into your life it will; especially if you let it. I reckon that's
what we have with this book in the Old Testament, the book of Ecclesiastes
which begins with these words "Vanity of vanities sayeth the preacher all
is vanity" and then it proceeds to tell us that there is "nothing new under the sun" - "Is there anything of which it may be said, See, this is
new”? The writer tells us that everything is a repeat performance of the last
event, that we are merely the actors who must go along with a
predetermined script and that we will die sooner or later and it
matters not whether we are virtuous and live our lives with integrity or not.
We all inevitably meet our deaths sooner or later. It's a grim outlook, the
book is not entirely joyless for it does exhort us in the absence of anything
beyond the material facts of our existence, to get on with it, make the best of
it and enjoy it. Ecclesiastes makes the point though, that all of life is
meaningless and denies the existence of any kind of divine justice. I think
that the book would probably never have got into the Bible if the scholars of
the time had realised that the author was not Solomon the Jewish King and
realised that this book was probably written in around 200 BC and not around
935 BC late in Solomon's life. So rather by error than anything else
Ecclesiastes managed to slip into the canon, into the Old Testament.
Like my friend Nick, this book is grumpy and cynical.
Maybe, on the other hand perhaps we could say that Ecclesiastes negativity is a
useful counter to the starry eyed optimism of Jewish and Christian believers,
who are of course believers in the providence of God. And sometimes we are apt
to agree with this view that there is nothing new under the sun.
The
alternative reality is that God does make everything new; each moment actually
does come to us as new as does each day and each century that has passed since
the book of Ecclesiastes was written have been unique. This drab ink-sketch
presenting a hopeless commentary on life offers very little in terms of
spiritual sustenance and so I would rather reflect on the words of Goethe who
said, “All theory is grey, my friend. But forever green is the tree of life.”
This
life we have been given can be viewed though the filter of any lens that we
choose. So why should we settle for two dimensional black and white when we can
have the full glory of it all in three dimensional Technicolor. We know that
bad things can and do happen in this life nobody can live free of pain and loss
but we know that virtue does have its rewards for example, through abstinence
from alcohol and drugs and by exercising integrity in personal relationships
and our business affairs. Last week I visited an old friend two days before he
died, he talked about his death and how his life's energy would returning to
the source from whence it came. A couple of days ago I was looking through some
old papers and found some notes written by another friend, the Rev. David Monk.
David was diagnosed with Motor Neuron Disease and in acceptance of his
condition wrote these words.
"It
is important to go with the impermanence of our mortal structure - every body
dies physically. Buddha stated that the first condition of existence as
impermanence and I love one of his quotes: "The person who can embrace the
temporality of his existence is as free as a bird in the sky"
Months
later just before he died he reprinted these words from Indian Scripture;
"As
rivers flowing into the ocean find their final peace and their name and form
disappear, even so, the wise become free from name and form and enter into the
radiance of the Supreme Spirit."
The
realisation of the impermanence of life is what should give us the urgency to
live it to the full, to strive to be happy, to live for others as much as for
ourselves and to understand the power of love who is God, the divine presence
that is at the heart of all there is. Therefore we should say that, "This
is the day the Lord has made. Rejoice and be glad in it." Let us not walk
around supermarkets bemoaning our existence, let us not ungraciously complain
by saying that there is nothing new under the sun, let us lift the veil of
despondency and see the cosmic dance of life and join in, let us praise God all
the days of our lives and in all our ways let us acknowledge him.
There is perhaps an extra subset in this one. If I am out and about with my walker, some kind person may say: "How nice to see you out. And how are you?" To this I am prone to use my stock answer: " I am vertical, thank you. Nice to see you too." This said with a smile, because I am glad to be vertical and walk, albeit sometimes slowly, through the soft rain and the warm sunshine, look at the sea and talk to the beloved Turnstones down by the harbour. Answers may be laconic, but the heart is full and rejoicing in God's glory.
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