Evensong 27 October: Ecclesiastes 11:1-end, 12:1-end and 2 Timothy 2:1-7
The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God, and keep his commandments; for that is the whole duty of everyone.
Over the last two weeks, students from Middlesex University have been using the church yard as the back drop or context for short films on grief and loss.
Using their skills in acting and directing, they are seeking to say something about our mortality.
Like the writer of Ecclesiastes they are exploring some of the most pressing and intimate questions we face as human beings: youth and ageing, anxiety and frailty; the inclinations of our hearts and the weariness of the flesh.
In these short films, mourners go about the streets, clutching their flowers, as dust returns to the earth.
Breath returns to God who gave it. Is all then just vanity? Or is this our hope and consolation?
In life we are in the midst of death.
We know not when the silver cord will be snapped or when the golden bowl will be broken, as Ecclesiastes puts it; we know only the jolt when the wheel or cistern breaks.
In our lives, we carry those moments of ‘breakage’. We carry the personal sorrows, regrets and passing breaths; the moments that come too soon; that hurt too much. We carry the collective horrors too: of victims of terror or trafficking, of ebola or earthquake.
When we face the end of the matter, has all been heard?
Yet it is in the face of death that words of wisdom take on a different hue.
We tell stories of last words; of Oscar Wilde’s complaint about the wallpaper or George V’s utterance of ‘Bugger Bognor’. Yet when asked, the most common deathbed conversations have been affairs of the heart: advice about relationships or careers, finding happiness and living without regrets.
Bronnie Ware, an Australian palliative care nurse, recorded some of the most common regrets: wishing that I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself; wishing I hadn’t worked so hard; wishing we’d expressed our feelings; wishing we’d stayed in touch with our friends; wishing for happiness and laughter.
Ware writes of the phenomenal clarity of vision that people gain at the end of their lives, and how we might learn from their wisdom. Perhaps her book of observations serves to accomplish a similar task to the writer of Ecclesiastes: how do we live well in the face of death?
Perhaps our health or your brings a freedom we don’t realise until we’ve lost it; perhaps we’re all to aware of the things we miss out on because of the demands of work.
Ware also noticed the importance fo friends - the people who’ve known us deeply for years; or who were significant at particular moments. How important it is to cherish them; to express our feelings and to find to be able to laugh; to find happiness in small things
The writer of Ecclesiastes puts such human observations in different words. He notes that there are times and seasons; he cautions against idleness and yet invites us to delight in the pleasantness of the sun. Delight in the sun, because there will be darker days.
In youth and in old age there are causes for rejoicing. The writer suggests that we follow the inclination of our hearts; whilst cautioning us to be mindful of God’s judgment. Rejoice and live - for all is vanity.
Such vanity does not mean something worthless or futile; it doesn’t carry the connotations of pride or superficial concern for appearance.
Vanity in Ecclesiastes is more like a breath or vapour: the thing which we try to grasp but which slips through our fingers. We cannot control or foretell our future; but we can live lightly and intensely moment by moment.
Perhaps that is a habit of living well that we can cultivate. To be present. To see what the moment demands of us.
Of course we all carry with us work and responsibilities, concerns and plans. Rather than abandoning them or laying them aside, we are to infuse them with love and meaning and purpose.
The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God, and keep his commandments; for that is the whole duty of everyone.
Dare we entrust our lives to God - in order that we might live more fully? The commandments contain the promise of life rooted in love of God and neighbour. Dare we chose this life?
We do not know what the future holds: we fear living with regrets and yet can be cautious and hesitant. Yet living wholeheartedly releases us to find fulfilment moment by moment.
God calls us to love - with all that we are: hearts and minds, souls and strength. Such love is our calling - being committed to the work entrusted to us, the people with whom we interact. This can be demanding - this is faithful loving, living life in the face of death.
And we do this because God goes with us and before us through sorrows and laughter, through friendships and all our endeavours. Nothing is wasted or lost. All is vanity, a breath; and yet each and every breath is infused with the love of God. This is the commandment to love and live; to heal and build up; to care and be carried; to cherish and pay attention to small things.
Live lightly and intensely. Breath by breath.
God breathed life into our earthly bodies; and when dust returns to earth, that same breath calls us to eternal life. For Christ Jesus died and rose again; nothing can no separate us from the love of God. By the power of the Spirit, we are to love God; to keep the commandments. Until shadows lengthen and the busy world is hushed.
As Paul instructs Timothy: You then, my child, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus; and what you have heard from me through many witnesses entrust to faithful people who will be able to teach others as well.
© Julie Gittoes 2019
