The start of Lent: studying ancient texts
This is the opinion of Br. Denys Janiga, OSB, a monk of St. John’s Abbey and a Benedictine Fellow at SJUFaith
Through the season of Lent, this column will be dealing with a book that some readers have described as
pessimistic, gloomy, skeptical, and even nihilistic. Ancient existential dread. Perhaps you’re thinking: “This
must be a sketchy book published by one of those obscene publishers.” You will be surprised, however, to
learn that the book is part of the Bible. It’s commonly referred to as Ecclesiastes—while some call it Qoheleth (I will, too)—and forms the genre called wisdom literature.
Wisdom literature is found in the Old Testament and includes books like Proverbs, Job, and the Wisdom of Solomon. These texts focus on practical guidance for living skillfully through the fear of the Lord. As such, they explore various themes like moral discernment, suffering, meaning, boredom, human finitude, and use literary devices like proverbs, poems, hymns, and dialogue.
When was Qoheleth written? Scripture scholars lack agreement on this question, but many would locate it during the Ptolemaic empire and the Hellenistic period—so, around 250 BCE. Some scholars would say
that this text was, in part, responding to the books of Proverbs and Job. The material location was likely urban
and a “fairly hierarchical culture” (Lisa Michele Wolfe).
A key word that comes up dozens of times in the text is the Hebrew word “hevel.” It poses translation challenges. Multiple meanings materialize breath, wind, vapor, smoke, fleeting, worthless, insubstantial, futile, foolish, vanity, unreliable, and emptiness. Meaningless, absurd, and ambiguous also are possibilities. Let’s not forget useless and pointless. I will likely waver on choosing a single word, but I do find “absurd” to be compelling.
According to scripture scholar and liberation theologian Elsa Tamez, Qoheleth “is a book to be read in times of profound disillusionment” and can help us “find solidarity in our discontent.” Tamez uses the term disillusionment to refer to “the inability to intervene in history—particularly unjust history—and change its course.” At the recent World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, Prime Minister Mark Carney, of Canada, stated this about the current historical situation: “Let me be direct. We are in the midst of a rupture, not a transition.” Ruptures create many opportunities for disillusionment and can impact people in uneven ways—especially the marginalized. Prime Minister Carney, of course, does think that middle powers can intervene in
history by working together through this rupture.
But Tamez is specifically concerned about how Qoheleth might help one “find a way to breathe with dignity
and wisdom amid these asphyxiating times.” She further contends that “Qoheleth must fight with himself to look for possible ways out of the present. Qoheleth will not be resigned to the anti-human present named hevel.”
As we explore this text over the coming weeks, we will try to savor and integrate some of its liberating wisdom that is borne from the “crisis of wisdom” that Qoheleth is reflecting on in his own time. However, this is not a wisdom without pain. It is a wisdom that acknowledges pain and does not seek a fast exit from it. May your Lenten journey be filled with insights, service, care, and savoring the simple things.