We read Jesus' Manifesto on the Mount -- the principles upon which He runs the kingdom (Matt 6-8) -- and realize that what God has in mind appears to be an ever-upward spiral of everyone giving of themselves to others, emanating from a deep trust in the bountiful provision of our heavenly Father. Will the Kingdom of Heaven work? Does it work?
We may be inclined to think that Jesus' Manifesto will work in heaven, but it won't work here, where there are some Class-A takers. Consider, for example, the person who snatched Angela's bag on Friday. But then we remember that Jesus constantly stated that "The Kingdom of Heaven is ...". Now. Not later. Jesus appears to invite us to demonstrate with Him that His way of living not only works, but also results in happiness.
What has this to do with Ecclesiastes 11, our study for this week? I'm inclined to read verses 1 through 6 as an exhortation to take risks in life and business. However, most commentators apply this passage to the Christian business of liberality. This seems odd, since the prior ten chapters encouraged us to employ our resources in making our miserable lives as comfortable as can be expected. So, you can decide whether or not the generally accepted interpretation of Eccl 11:1-6 is yet another well-known quote interpreted out of context. But lets follow the crowd for a change.
"No good deed goes unpunished" is a favorite saying of Angela's and mine, as the business of "good deeds" is fraught with difficulty. Cast your bread upon the sea of humanity (Rev 17:15) and you are barely likely to get a thank-you, let alone anything vaguely resembling recompense.
We are exhorted to "give, ... because we do not know what evil is ahead" (v 2). Interestingly, that is exactly the reason I use for not giving. I don't know what hard times are ahead for my family, when I may need resources that might appear surplus to current need. Perhaps I should be beneficent now so that "when the evil days come" I will have the comfort of having done good while I was able?
I am particularly cautious in my few endeavors to "cast my bread" upon needy humanity because I am concerned that my giving may be directed at charlatans. Perhaps if I wait for a riskless opportunity to give I will never sow, and therefore never reap (v4)? Perhaps I just need to recognize that some of my attempts to give will be redemptive in the lives of recipients, and other attempts will be crucified by others as naive at best. A shared experience with God?
It seems that God needs brave volunteers to go first in demonstrating that His manifesto works -- that giving can be a way of life that results in ever-increasing joy for all involved. I still recall as a child watching my father siphon -- what magic. Starting with a small flow would move hundreds of gallons. Perhaps it doesn't matter much after all whether Eccl 11:1-6 is about risk-taking or giving, because the most exciting risk we can take as Christians is to start the flow that will change the world.
Happy casting, giving and sowing this week.
© Alister L. Hunt, PhD
We may be inclined to think that Jesus' Manifesto will work in heaven, but it won't work here, where there are some Class-A takers. Consider, for example, the person who snatched Angela's bag on Friday. But then we remember that Jesus constantly stated that "The Kingdom of Heaven is ...". Now. Not later. Jesus appears to invite us to demonstrate with Him that His way of living not only works, but also results in happiness.
What has this to do with Ecclesiastes 11, our study for this week? I'm inclined to read verses 1 through 6 as an exhortation to take risks in life and business. However, most commentators apply this passage to the Christian business of liberality. This seems odd, since the prior ten chapters encouraged us to employ our resources in making our miserable lives as comfortable as can be expected. So, you can decide whether or not the generally accepted interpretation of Eccl 11:1-6 is yet another well-known quote interpreted out of context. But lets follow the crowd for a change.
"No good deed goes unpunished" is a favorite saying of Angela's and mine, as the business of "good deeds" is fraught with difficulty. Cast your bread upon the sea of humanity (Rev 17:15) and you are barely likely to get a thank-you, let alone anything vaguely resembling recompense.
We are exhorted to "give, ... because we do not know what evil is ahead" (v 2). Interestingly, that is exactly the reason I use for not giving. I don't know what hard times are ahead for my family, when I may need resources that might appear surplus to current need. Perhaps I should be beneficent now so that "when the evil days come" I will have the comfort of having done good while I was able?
I am particularly cautious in my few endeavors to "cast my bread" upon needy humanity because I am concerned that my giving may be directed at charlatans. Perhaps if I wait for a riskless opportunity to give I will never sow, and therefore never reap (v4)? Perhaps I just need to recognize that some of my attempts to give will be redemptive in the lives of recipients, and other attempts will be crucified by others as naive at best. A shared experience with God?
It seems that God needs brave volunteers to go first in demonstrating that His manifesto works -- that giving can be a way of life that results in ever-increasing joy for all involved. I still recall as a child watching my father siphon -- what magic. Starting with a small flow would move hundreds of gallons. Perhaps it doesn't matter much after all whether Eccl 11:1-6 is about risk-taking or giving, because the most exciting risk we can take as Christians is to start the flow that will change the world.
Happy casting, giving and sowing this week.
© Alister L. Hunt, PhD
1 comment:
Alister, I appreciate your skepticism toward the traditional interpretation of the passage. Tradition can be a helpful lens but it can obscure as much as it reveals so it is important to approach things from other perspectives as well. The language in these verses is somewhat surprising in light of the overall pessimism; cast (vs. 1), give (vs. 2), sow (vs. 6). This seems to offer something of a social counterbalance to the otherwise egocentric perspective (and I mean that in the best sense). It takes a strong ego to resist the tyranny of the crowd, or the "herd" as Nietzsche derisively called it.
The language of casting, sowing, and giving implies an investing as opposed to a hoarding activity. I liked your insight about risk-taking in this context. In fact, the actions of giving and sowing in the passage are done without certain knowledge of the effect that they will have ("for you do not know" vss. 2, 5-6). The only action that is done with confidence is the casting of the bread on the waters for "you will find it again". Is this a reference to some form of maritime economic activity? But then that activity isn't without risk either. An Egyptian text offers a parallel with its advice to "Do a good deed and throw it in the water; when it dries you will find it." But then it doesn't really help to interpret one obscure text with reference to another. Maybe we could call that the "Dumb and Dumber" method of biblical interpretation.
I think those 3,000 years that separate us chronologically and culturally from the text make it practically impossible to know for sure what was meant in this case. Maybe we can at least take away that 2/3 of life involves risk and uncertainty. And yet wisdom does not condone passivity in the face of complexity. Given all that we don't know it is still necessary to act. I think that here the element of risk comes together with the idea of liberality. To give is to experience the risk of loss in a very personal way. This is why giving is a form of trusting. In a society that values having above being, the act of giving is very threatening for it feels like losing a part of myself when I part with what I have. It takes a great deal of trust to give up what I have when there is no guarantee that I will be compensated in return for my generosity. And yet the experience can be quite liberating as well for the security we have in possessions is quite illusory (sorry to hear about Angela's incident).
These verses have given me a new perspective on the passages in the text as a whole dealing with the "gifts" of God. Interestingly, I can see a partially positive God-image forming the background of the ethical injunctions to cast, give, and sow.
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