Empirical Theology

“Futility of futilities,” says the Preacher, “Futility of futilities! All is futility.” Ecclesiastes 1:2  NASB

Futility – “Ecclesiastes is a strange and disquieting book.  It gives voice to an experience not usually thought of as religious: the pain and frustration engendered by an unblinking gaze at life’s absurdities and injustices.”[1]  The Preacher (Teacher) Qohelet writes a dispassionate assessment of human existence, concluding that nothing really matters much over the course of eternity.  If you’re blessed enough (and not everyone is) to find some enjoyment in work or love, then more power to you.  Just remember that in the end the rich are buried next to the poor, the wise lay down in the dirt next to the fools, and the powerful have no control over anything after they’re dead.  In fact, if we set aside all our Pollyanna presuppositions, we have to agree with the rabbis: human history is a nightmare.

So why is such a discouraging book even in the Bible?  What were the councils thinking when they accepted such a dour assessment of life?  We could opt for the typical answer, incorporated in the added material at the end of the book: “The sum of the matter, when all is said and done: Revere God and observe His commandments.”[2]  Accordingly, the reason for this exercise in ethical contradiction is to push the reader to see that the only thing that matters is godly obedience.  Frankly, I find this improvised justification unsatisfactory, not only because the material at the end of Ecclesiastes was apparently added to tone down the harshness of the critique but also because anyone with half a brain can see that life isn’t fair—not by a long shot.  Qohelet is right.  It doesn’t make sense.

But Ecclesiastes is essential for exactly that reason.  Life doesn’t make sense if the only assessment of life is from inside the box.  What Qohelet will not allow, as a card-carrying empiricist, is any voice from beyond, any divine input, any supra-human explanation.  For Qohelet, this world is all that there is—love it or leave it.  And the truth is that I need Qohelet’s unflinching assessment of the impoverished human predicament if I am going to be willing to look beyond the empirical world for answers.  Faith is not trust in the facts, at least not in the facts presented in this broken world.  Faith is trust in the voice from beyond the facts.  That does not mean it’s blind.  It means that I recognize that I cannot find answers about meaning, justice, love, and truth unless I look for the metaphysical explanations.  Something other than a raw empirical collection is needed to make sense of all this.

However, and this is a big “however,” I don’t think I can even find that metaphysical perspective through a purely cognitive effort.  Cognition leads me right back to the nightmare.  What I need is a practical experience of something greater than this, a sense of awe (as Heschel would say) that carries me out of the empirical somnambulist.  That something is the Hebrew integration of ritual with faith.  I learn that there is more by participating in a slice of the eternal in my empirical chronology.  And in two days we will do just that.  Not merely follow some ancient tradition.  No, more than that.  We will become partakers in the redemption from exile—in our redemption from exile.  We will live the answer.

Topical Index:  hebel, empiricism, faith, festival, Ecclesiastes 1:2

[1] Michael V. Fox, Ecclesiastes: The JPS Commentary, (JPS, 2004), p. ix.

[2] Ecclesiastes 12:13 (JPS)