Day 194. Ecclesiastes 9-12

The Book of Ecclesiastes ends as it begins, with a somber pessimism about human destiny, combined with a vigorous affirmation of earthly life as the good gift of God. The experience of the philosopher-king has taught him to regard human beings very unenthusiastically --"the hearts of all are full of evil; madness is in their hearts while they live, and after that they go to the dead" (9:3). They are capable of goodness and wisdom—but it hardly matters. The same fate waits for all. Nevertheless, life is always better than death—"a living dog is better than a dead lion" (9:4).
So to what conclusions does the wisdom of the philosopher lead him? Not to any concrete insights into the nature of the universe or the mind of God. After "examining it all" (9:1), he can only repeat the conclusion he had reached before he began—"Go, eat your bread with enjoyment, and drink your wine with a merry heart" (9:7). The good life consists in merely enjoying whatever pleasures existence offers you to the fullest. You are justified in doing do because "God has already approved what you do." So don't stint. "Whatever your hand finds to do" don't stint, don't hold back. "Do it with [all] your might" (9:10).
Use every moment of the time God gives you—"those who love many years should rejoice in them all" (11:8). Yet all of us live in death's shadow, and death reduces every part of human life to "vanity." Ecclesiastes ends with one of the masterpieces of world literature—a poem about old age (12:1-8). Here the philosopher-king poetically describes the decline of the faculties with age as only one who is experiencing it could. Fear increases and strength decays. And we are left with the conclusion that life is better at its beginning than at its end—that is the message that the poem conveys—and yet life is always life. The inevitability of death—"when the silver cord is snapped and the golden bowl is broken" (12:6)--sharpens its joys with poignancy and makes each moment of it immeasurably precious.
Our further reading of the scriptures will give us moments of triumphant hope of a life beyond life to balance the somber pessimism of the philosopher-king. The Bible is an honest book—the only honest book, when it comes right down to it. It contains the darkest dark and the brightest light. Shadows are what make the sunlight radiant, and the honest pessimism of the Book of Ecclesiastes is what prepares us to see the cool brightness of God in the face of Christ.