Remember now thy Creator

Ecclesiastes 11:9-12-4 (KJV)

   Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.
   Therefore remove sorrow from thy heart, and put away evil from thy flesh: for childhood and youth are vanity.
   Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them;
   While the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain:
   In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened,
   And the doors shall be shut in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be brought low;
   Also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and the almond tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail: because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets:
   Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern.
   Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.
   Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher; all is vanity.

Much like the 23rd Psalm, I find myself falling into this passage from Ecclesiastes for its poetic value — though perhaps to a fault, because I’m not sure I’m actually deriving any meaning from the words. Just hit me with the “Remember now thy Creator...” and I’m somewhat mesmerized. Several secular poems have the same somewhat hypnotic effect on me (two that immediately come to mind are “In Flanders Fields” by John McCrae and “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost), though neither is layered with the kind of deep meaning of Scripture.

Like many other writers and English majors I am fascinated by words and the way they are put together. Certain beautiful turns of phrase sing to me like great symphonies — of course, I have a strong affinity for beautiful music as well. And masterful photographs, especially dramatic work by experienced photojournalists, are absolutely riveting. Again, I am not unique in this regard, but nonetheless I feel it important to share my appreciation of the creative arts and the way they enhance life.

“In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble...”

When encountering the Frost poem, I appreciate its elegant simplicity. It is masterful word work. But I don’t get too wrapped up in considering the meaning. Ditto “Rhapsody In Blue,” which I think is my favorite musical composition of any genre. The music is indescribably beautiful. But a deep meaning? Honestly, a large part of the reason I like the piece is how well it was used in all those United Airlines commercials over the year, specifically those that were as much commercials for Chicago as anything.



And yeah, I wasted a solid ten minutes on YouTube looking for the precise commercial I had in mind. No dice.

“...and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be brought low...”

Whenever one of my absolute favorite hymns comes up in a worship service, or if I just happen upon it while thumbing through the hymnal, I think about the reason the song means so much to me — and I also make a mental list that I want the hymn sung at my funeral. I’ve never actually compiled the list, though, for fear the service might require two or three organists and an intermission. But I’ve never quite had the same thoughts about Scripture. Until tonight. I need to make a special note of this one, at least a few small parts.

(For what it’s worth, this passage did not come up on either the Beliefnet Suggested Scripture for a Protestant Funeral list or a liturgical guide from the Church of England, but then I stopped Googling because enough already...)

So what is being said here, right at the end of Ecclesiastes? I certainly can’t add any elegance to the verses above. And I have had a hard time understanding a lot of what is going on with Ecclesiastes based on the selections I’ve looked at over the last few weeks. (The next book in this lectionary slot is Numbers, so that’ll be a trip.) And while this exercise has prompted me to take a deeper look at Ecclesiastes at some point, I find the last two verses of the book to be as complete a summary as I may ever need, and a fitting sentiment no matter what part of the Bible it springs from:

Now all has been heard;
   here is the conclusion of the matter:
Fear God and keep his commandments,
   for this is the duty of all mankind.
For God will bring every deed into judgment,
   including every hidden thing,
   whether it is good or evil.

This speaks directly and beautifully, another lesson I want to teach my children and also must apply to my own life. They may not care for words the way I do, or share my appreciation for music or ever pay attention to the power of a dramatic photograph spread over four or five columns of newsprint. But they can learn the power of God’s Word. I can help them along the way by sharing with them the way Scripture affects me, and then living that example. I hope I’ve already started.

A prayer for June 15:

Lord, I want to remove sorrow from my heart. I want to put away evil from my flesh. I want to keep your commandments. I thank you for the beautiful gift of Scripture and the way it teaches, inspires and grounds me. Please help me share this gift with my children, and to let them see how it affects me that they, too, might seek your Word as a guiding influence. Amen.

A sad face is good for the heart

Ecclesiastes 7:3, 8-9 (NIV)

Frustration is better than laughter,
   because a sad face is good for the heart.
The end of a matter is better than its beginning,
   and patience is better than pride.
Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit,
   for anger resides in the lap of fools.

I’m not quite sure what to make of this passage, although to be honest, I’m not quite sure to make of a lot of what I’ve been reading in Ecclesiastes the last week or so. Much of it has come across as sort of bizarro Proverbs, in that it’s written in the same style yet leaves me more confused than enlightened. Verses 8 and 9 make plenty of sense, but they seem to contrast verse 3, which on its own has me clueless. A sad face is good for the heart? Frustration is better than laughter?

In connection with verse 2 ("It is better to go to a house of mourning than go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart"), I suppose what we’re being asked is to realize how easy it is to be happy but how important it is to encounter the things that make us sad. I don’t know as if the lesson is that laughter is a bad thing — surely it makes for pleasant memories — but perhaps more so that struggles are what lead to growth and improvement.

In a romantic relationship, we often learn the most about the other party when the road is rough — either one person is going through a challenge and the other’s response illuminates their real personality, or there is a conflict between the two parties and the way it is resolved, or not resolved, speaks to the potential longevity. We are all smart enough to know life will never be completely easy, so what matters is how we navigate the choppy waters.

When you’re in a hospital room, holding your new baby in its first days of life, you may be able (unlike me) to escape thoughts of the future conflicts you will have — especially if it’s your first child. But if your second or third comes along when your older offspring have given you their share of struggles, you’re no longer so naïve. You look at the sweet, innocent child in your lap, and you just know eventually it will have its own opinions, test its limits, throw tantrums and force you, as a parent, to make the right choices to help the both of you figure out how to make it all work.

Any parent that has not had a conflict with their child has either an infant incapable of crawling or grabbing or is simply not actively involved in helping their kid make good decisions. This coming from someone who has only guided a child through the second grade — we have lots and lots of more serious issues to encounter.

On that note, I wonder if the suggestion “the end of a matter is better than its beginning” applies to a parent-child relationship. I know you never stop being a parent, but at some point you have to accept your child is an adult. I have to think that moment, or the series of events that aggregate into that benchmark, is far more meaningful than the day the child arrives.

After all, you don’t really know that baby. It has no personality. It’s yours and you gave it life and that’s immeasurably important. But that can’t compare to what it means to actually get to know your child, to learn (and shape) who they are, to see yourself reflected in them, for better or for worse, and to have a deep relationship with someone who knows you so intimately.

But all of it is cumulative. Watching your child walk is meaningful because you so recently watched them crawl. Hearing them give a graduation speech is built upon the days you worked hard to get them to speak a single word. Seeing them choose a life partner is (and I’m projecting some major hope here) a reflection of the way you modeled a good relationship in their formative years. It’s all part of the process. The end of the matter may well be better than the beginning, but the real action is at all points in between.

Naturally, not all those points will be happy times. Hopefully there will be much laughter. But those sad faces along the way are good for the heart in their own way. It isn’t the sadness itself, it’s how you respond. In the case of being a parent, it’s also about how you teach your child to respond. Together you learn about each other and make decisions about how you’ll live going forward. We’ve had some moments so far, but I think they pale in light of what’s to come. I pray I’m up to the challenge.

A prayer for June 11:

Lord, I thank you for laughter, for new beginnings and happy times. I also thank you for being with us as we go through sadness, endings and struggle. I know we never walk alone, and I am blessed by your presence all the days of my life. Please help me to remember the source of my blessings and the undying love that strengthens me. Amen.

Ten years

Ecclesiastes 5:4-6 (NIV)

When you make a vow to God, do not delay to fulfill it. He has no pleasure in fools; fulfill your vow. It is better not to make a vow than to make one and not fulfill it. Do not let your mouth lead you into sin. And do not protest to the temple messenger, “My vow was a mistake.” Why should God be angry at what you say and destroy the work of your hands?

I want to tell you about me and my wife. My name is Scott, her name is Kristie. We are exceedingly average. We met in college. I was a sophomore helping out with her freshman orientation. Other than the quirk of it being the same college and the same age difference as my parents, there is nothing remarkable about our origin story. I proposed a few weeks before I graduated, we married a few weeks after she graduated. That was ten years ago today.

June 8, 2002.

We grew up in similar families in different parts of the same state. We are oldest children in families of five. We have three children, all sons. The oldest turned 8 in April, the second turned 4 in March and the youngest just hit 16 months Wednesday. They are the absolute best things in the world to happen to us as a couple and we love them in ways we never imagined. But that doesn’t make us any different from any other parents or families. We are just us, and that is wonderful.

We have never been seriously sick. We have never been tremendously wealthy. We did lose a fair amount on an ill-timed house purchase, but the safety net of family kept us from tragedy. We go to work, pay our bills, send our kids to public school, go to church on Sundays and try not to spend too much time watching TV. We say, “I love you” and mean it. We also know how to drive each other crazy.

Our greatest skill as parents seems to be the ability for one of us to keep an unnatural sense of calm if the other has lost all patience. We try to make sure our anger, when it inevitably arises, is directed where it belongs and not at each other.

I wash most of the laundry and fold it and then struggle to actually put it away in the right drawers. We do not openly complain when one of us loads the dishwasher the wrong way. Even though neither one of us can go a store and buy everything on the list, we’ve managed to never run out of toilet paper. We agree on the thermostat. We somehow manage to each be the biggest cover hog.

We have known each other for nearly 14 years, and that means we grew up together. I was 19 years old. Less than six years later we were in a hospital holding our first baby. It was utterly conventional and yet wonderfully timeless. Love songs on the radio still make me think of the girl I fell in love with so many years ago, even if the most romantic thing I have done lately is surprise her with a bag of fancy bagels so she could have them for breakfast the next morning in the car.

I am looking at pictures of our wedding day, though all I need to do to remember her smile that day is close my eyes — I have never forgotten the look on her face or the feeling in my soul that sunny day. I am not sure why she ever agreed to go on a date with me, why she was willing to talk with me in the wee hours of the morning or what made us fall in love. If everything in my life happened in order that I might one day come to understand she is the person I should marry, that she would make the perfect wife for me and a remarkable mother for our children, then I thank God for paving the way that we might find each other in the right place at the right time.

I am absolutely certain I would not be the same person I am today had I not pursued her, had she not reciprocated, had we not committed to forever. When I thank God for my blessings, her love tops the list. I simply cannot imagine my life playing out in any other way, and I am all kinds of emotions (thrilled, relieved, amazed, flabbergasted and so on) when I realize how lucky I am to have everything I ever wanted.

I hope this feeling never ends. I would gladly freeze time today, with our boys happy, healthy and at home. I know that’s not possible, but I am OK with that because I am excited about the chance for us to continue to grow. I know we can deepen our relationship as we walk the path of parenthood together, as our family dynamic evolves and changes. I want more than anything in life to always be here for her and for her to always be here for me. As long as we are us, we will always have everything.

I want, ten years from day, to look back on these words and think about all I learned leading into our twentieth anniversary. In twenty years, when our nest may be empty, I want to be proud of the children we raised. In thirty years as we consider retirement, I want to take her on the vacation of a lifetime. In forty years I expect those kids to throw us the best anniversary party ever, and I want to be surrounded by our grandchildren, who most surely will teach me an entirely new way to love.

But those are all dreams. Today is reality. And today I will take my wife in my arms, kiss her cheek and tell her I love her and tell her how lucky I am that she loves me. We will hold hands, glance back and gaze forward and think about everything that happened, everything that could happen, because we found each other. To everyone else, we might just be two people in their early 30s going out for dinner. But I’m here to tell you, we’re the luckiest people in the world.

A prayer for June 8:

Lord, I thank you for my wife. I thank you for allowing us to find each other. I thank you for the blessings of our children. I pray that we continue to strengthen and support each other, to sustain our relationship and to work together as parents to give our children everything they need. On this anniversary day I am overcome with gratitude for everything, everyone I have. I cannot sufficiently thank you for these gifts. I am humbled to be so loved. Amen.

Do good and be happy?

Ecclesiastes 3:9-14 (NIV)

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil — this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him.

Chalk me up as a big believer in the “no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end” concept. I mean this quite literally. It’s why I bristle whenever someone suggests something unexplainable — be it tragedy, triumph or simple happenstance — is all part of God’s plan. If you’re willing to accept that every single thing that happens on Earth is preordained and orchestrated by God, that’s one thing. Then you can tell me you narrowly escaped a car accident as part of God’s plan, your grandfather succumbed to cancer as part of God’s plan, the Celtics won game five as part of God’s plan and the pizza guy brought sausage instead of pepperoni as part of God’s plan.

I’m not saying God isn’t in some way involved with our physical world. It’s just that I believe in a God so powerful — powerful enough to become fully human, suffer physical death and then come back to life — that there’s no sense in trying to wrap a feeble human mind around the power of God. The great mystery of life (and afterlife) is something no one will ever be able to comprehend while constrained by human life. And I’m totally OK with that.

What really stands out in this passage (which, by the way, comes immediately after the “a time to be born, a time to die” part of Ecclesiastes 3) is something I’d never before considered. While God has set our mind on eternity (Jesus discussed everlasting life quite a bit, you know), it also is possible for us to find satisfaction in or regular existence. That’s never really struck me as a significant gift, but in a way it makes perfect sense.

We are told so much about the perfection of Heaven and being fully in God’s presence. The concept of Heaven on Earth is pure folly — nothing we can envision or experience can in any way compare to the world beyond. So how terrible would it be to go through life being dissatisfied with even the highest of highs because you’re trying to measure it against something promised to be better, yet inconceivably so?

Taken by itself, verse 12 (I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live) seems to be staggeringly simplistic, likely to a fault. Surely Jesus’ teachings did not tell people to just try to be happy and good. He demanded we offer God our absolute best at all times, in many cases instructing people to do things that would run counter to personal happiness. Living up to those exacting standards is an exhausting pursuit, one we (hopefully) approach despite (undoubtedly) knowing we’ll come up short many, many times.

And yet if you ask me what I want for my children, my initial response almost certainly would be either, “I want them to be happy” or “I want them to be good people.” Ideally both. Probably a better answer is along the lines of “I want them to believe in God, accept and follow the teachings of Jesus and accordingly live lives worthy of God.” And I guess if I want that to be the case, I could do a lot more on the front end to encourage them to move in that direction. If I’m content with just “happy” and “good person” for myself or them, well, I feel like I’m kind of missing the point.

Once again, it looks like I’ve got some work to do.

A prayer for June 6:

Lord, thank you for setting eternity in our hearts. I know we cannot begin to understand your power and glory, yet I am grateful for the promise of everlasting life with you, given to us through the grace of Christ’s redeeming sacrifice. I ask you to help me teach these lessons to my children, that they too may come to understand the importance of the life beyond and not just the matters at hand. Amen.