1 month ago
18
i’ve always approached religion with curiosity but not conviction. as an agnostic, i find myself more interested in the philosophical dimensions of religious texts rather than their theological claims. recently, i decided to read ecclesiastes, not for spiritual guidance, but as a piece of ancient literature exploring human existence. surprisingly, it resonated with me more than i anticipated—less as a divine revelation and more as a sobering meditation on life’s futility.
the recurring refrain, “vanity of vanities, all is vanity” (ecclesiastes 1:2), sets the tone. the hebrew word translated as “vanity” is hevel, which can also mean vapor or breath. it’s fleeting, insubstantial—an apt metaphor for life itself. the writer (often attributed to solomon but left ambiguous as “the teacher” or qoheleth) begins with a stark observation: “what do people gain from all their labors at which they toil under the sun?” (1:3).
this question haunts the entire text. we chase wealth, wisdom, pleasure, and legacy, but all seem to dissolve into irrelevance under the inexorable march of time. “there is no remembrance of people of old, and even those who are yet to come will not be remembered by those who follow them” (1:11). it’s nihilistic, yes, but in a way that feels honest rather than bleak.
what struck me most is the cyclical nature of everything: “generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever” (1:4). there’s a detachment in how the teacher views human ambition. nature endures in its endless loops—“the sun rises and the sun sets… all streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full” (1:5-7)—while we labor and hope to leave some mark.
and yet, ecclesiastes doesn’t wholly reject life’s pleasures. the teacher concedes: “a person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil” (2:24). this isn’t hedonism but a call to embrace the momentary joys that life offers, even amid its transience.
as someone who leans agnostic, i find this perspective refreshing compared to the more prescriptive or moralistic tone of other biblical books. ecclesiastes doesn’t pretend to have answers; it doesn’t promise eternal reward or divine justice. instead, it grapples with the same uncertainties that plague all of us. it acknowledges the absurdity of existence but suggests that we live anyway—not in blind hope, but in humble acceptance.
is ecclesiastes a depressing read? maybe. but to me, it’s comforting in its raw honesty. the teacher doesn’t sugarcoat life’s impermanence; they lean into it. in doing so, they leave us with a paradoxical kind of freedom: if nothing we do truly lasts, then we’re free to find meaning in the fleeting moments, no matter how small.
if you’ve read it, what are your thoughts? do you think it’s nihilistic, existential, or something else entirely? and if you haven’t, does this kind of perspective appeal to you?
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