Ancient wisdom literature frequently grapples with the tension between the order we desire and the chaos we observe. In the context of the ancient Near East, where life was often fragile and dependent on the whims of weather and war, the observation of death as a universal equalizer carried significant weight. Festivities involving white garments and fragrant oil were not merely parties; they were profound affirmations of life in the face of a harsh environment. The imagery of a city under siege reflects a common reality of that era, where survival often hinged on strategy rather than brute force. This passage invites the reader to look "under the sun," focusing on earthly existence without the rose-colored glasses of idealism.
Reflections
The text presents the Creator as the ultimate holder of human destiny, specifically noting that "the righteous and the wise, as well as their deeds, are in God’s hands." While the Lord is sovereign, his specific plans remain obscured from human view; hidden behind the veil of time. He is not depicted here as a micromanager of immediate outcomes but as the provider of life itself. The scripture suggests that "God has already approved your works," implying a divine permission to find satisfaction in the simple, created order. It paints a portrait of a God who grants a "portion in life" but does not necessarily guarantee earthly immunity from the common fate of mortality or the unpredictability of the world.
Humanity often seeks control through morality or achievement, yet the observation here is stark: "time and chance happen to all." Whether one is swift, strong, or wise, unexpected events act like a "cruel net" or a "snare." This reality checks human pride. The text contrasts the finality of death with the opportunity of life; to be a "live dog" (a despised animal in that culture) is preferable to being a "dead lion" (the king of beasts). It highlights the irony that while wisdom is powerful enough to save a city, social status often dictates whether that wisdom is remembered. The human experience is characterized by this tension between our potential for greatness and our inevitable limitation.
Integrating this wisdom requires a shift from anxiety about the future to gratitude for the present. We are encouraged to "eat your bread with joy" and embrace the relationships we have, particularly with a spouse, as a central part of our earthly assignment. Instead of being paralyzed by the uncertainty of the future or the inevitability of the grave, the call is to engage fully with the here and now. "Whatever you find to do with your hands, do it with all your might." This is not a call to careless indulgence; rather, it is an invitation to live with intentionality and presence, recognizing that our current vitality is a gift to be used before the season passes.