An Unexpected Learning
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Minneapolis, Minnesota
I awake full of both gratitude and astonishment.
The astonishment stems from an increasing awareness of how much I have yet to learn, understand, and take to heart.
The gratitude comes from my regular Wednesday morning practice of walking across the street to a church I do not attend on Sundays, but wouldn’t think of missing on Wednesday mornings as about eight of us gather around the word that will form Sunday’s sermon.
The first reading came from Ecclesiastes.
If you have never read Ecclesiastes, it may surprise you that it is in the Bible at all. How did a book that begins with “Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher, vanity of vanities. All is vanity,” ever make it into the Bible?
There are peace churches, hope churches, trinity churches, and countless churches named after saints. But it is for sure there is no First United Church of Vanity, just as there is no First Congregational Church of Lamentation. We’d prefer not to dwell in a world of wisdom. We seem to prefer success. We want things to work. We’d rather not say life is a matter “chasing the wind.”
But then Brian spoke.
I do not know Brian well. I’ve gathered that his life has not been easy, and a month or so ago he had a heart attack. “Welcome to the club,” I said. But I do sense that in a world of all too many ups and downs, he clings to something more, something deeper, something more compelling. Let’s call it faith, or let’s call it Christ. Whatever its name, he has been found, denied, tested, lost and regained.
“I love this book,” he said. “I read a chapter every day.”
“What?” I instantly thought for a moment. Why would one read about vanity every day? How could it be a tonic to read, “The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. Better is the end of a thing than its beginning, the patient in spirit are better than the proud in spirit.”
True, true, and once again true. But then he shared, which, of course, is what Bible study is all about.
I used to live a life of outrage, he said. “I’d end the day reviewing all the things that went wrong, all the things that shouldn’t have been, I nursed grudges. I could hardly wait to lay into everything that angered me. But what good did all that worry and outrage do? None.”
We are fixated on events. There’s something more, says the Teacher. Get a grip, we hear. Streams flow into the ocean, and still it is not full. That’s the way it is, the way it is going to be. We must cling to something more. In Little Big Man, a man determines it is a good day to die, so he goes to a hilltop and waits to die. Then he doesn’t. Too bad, he says. Must have had the wrong day. We can’t help but smile. Yep, you thought this was going to happen but something else did.
The world of opinion begins to fade away. The culture of outrage we are so likely to stoke is shown to be nothing.
One translation replaces “vanity” with “illusion.” My hearing, being what it is not, isn’t sure if the word is “illusive” or “elusive.” I hope it’s the second.
Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Either way, the Teacher comes into a new light, and I am so grateful for the chance to open a book I knew “about” but have not known.
And you?

great post pops.nyc says good night…
Hi buddy, your blog’s design is simple and clean and i like it. Your blog posts are superb. Please keep them coming. Greets!!!
Hi buddy, your blog’s design is simple and clean and i like it. Your blog posts are superb. Please keep them coming. Greets!!!