The words of the Teacher, son of David, king in Jerusalem:
2 “Meaningless! Meaningless!”
says the Teacher.
“Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless.”
3 What do people gain from all their labors
at which they toil under the sun?
4 Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.
5 The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.
7 All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.
8 All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.
9 What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.
10 Is there anything of which one can say,
“Look! This is something new”?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.
11 No one remembers the former generations,
and even those yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow them.
Wisdom Is Meaningless. (Ecclesiastes 1)
This is a bit of a puzzle. Was this king just having a bad day? Should he have consulted a good psychiatrist? Why would the god of Israel allow the ruler of this most chosen of people to be so negative? Truly odd!
Epicurus, were he consulted, would have told him to concentrate on leaving this world a slightly better place than he found it. Maybe a few acts of kindness and generosity, and less smiting of neighboring tribes, would improve his self-image? You cannot control everything, even as king, but you can try to enjoy what you can control and help your fellow human beings, one small step at a time.
My own suggestion is for him to write a letter to Washington Post agony aunt Carolyn Hax. She would give him some down-home ideas about being positive and cheerful.
I add more comments from the king, just for the record. This kingly despair could be published because he had friends, power. Just imagine how poor peasants felt at the time. Or the poor Jebusites, smitten and subdued by the wandering tribes and reduced to poverty. They couldn’t get there problems publicized in any holy book. Their sorrows went unrecorded. Anyway, this is how the king went on:
12. I, the Teacher, was king over Israel in Jerusalem. 13 I applied my mind to study and to explore by wisdom all that is done under the heavens. What a heavy burden God has laid on mankind! 14 I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
15 What is crooked cannot be straightened;
what is lacking cannot be counted.
16 I said to myself, “Look, I have increased in wisdom more than anyone who has ruled over Jerusalem before me; I have experienced much of wisdom and knowledge.” 17 Then I applied myself to the understanding of wisdom, and also of madness and folly, but I learned that this, too, is a chasing after the wind.
18 For with much wisdom comes much sorrow;
the more knowledge, the more grief.
One take-away from the post is that Epicurus could not have framed his response more eloquently than has his Hanrottian acolyte.
This note especially: ” leaving this world a slightly better place than he found it. . . help your fellow human beings, one small step at a time.”
What a tiresome whiner this fellow was and, yes, those people without a voice might have shouted: “Cut out the smiting.”