Odium tremendum
morally slanted—frayed,
mysterium tremendum
hidden in the mundane.
~ DJ
Seifert
But yield who will to their
separation,
My objects in living is to
unite
My avocation and my vocation
As my two eyes make one in
sight
Only where love and need are
one,
And the work is play for
mortal stakes,
Is the deed ever really ever
done
For Heaven and the future’s
sake.
~ R.
Frost, “Two Tramps in Mud Time”
The legendary sage in the ancient Hebrew text, Ecclesiastes,
is known for his gentle to almost gloomy cynicism. Yet interspersed within a
diversity of life-giving expressions in the form (genre) and tradition of
lament and complaint, there are peaks of commendations that assist the human
quest against the futility, meaningless and absurdity experienced by thoughtful
beings. The primary question of this text seems to revolve around the question.
“What do people gain
from all their labors at which they toil under the sun?”
The sage provides several responses to this common yet
troubling question. One such response takes on the subject of work itself,
which is a radical, ruthless testing of the traditional views in light of
reason and experience.
The sage finds enjoyment and intrinsic value in work itself;
he commends devotion to one’s work, for toil resides exclusively in the land of
living (9.10); so the positive values of labor is set within the formative
context of rest, refreshment, and fellowship (4.9).
Moreover, the sage does not disparage work; he rather
redefines it by dislodging it from the realm of the marketplace and setting it
within the ethos of enjoyment. This “work ethic” is profoundly subversive and
relevant in our modern monetary, capitalistic culture.
The commendation of
enjoyment (seven times) is seemingly at odds with the stark sobering, if not
down-right pessimistic, view of life (2.24; 3.12-13, 22; 5.18; 8.15; 9.7-10;
11.8-10). The sage’s tensive reflection makes existential sense, saying that
enjoyment has the power to redeem the notion of toil amid (verses over and
against) the vicissitudes of life, the elusiveness of gain, and the ravaging
power of death.
Perhaps the sage is a self-pronounced “minimalist” when it
comes to discerning what is ultimately worthwhile in human living. His examples
of the “good life” are simple, unpretentious, and consistently commonplace:
eating, drinking, and finding some shred of satisfaction in one’s toil.
From the wisdom tradition as conveyed in Ecclesiastes, the value of enjoyment (defined negatively in relation to a
valuative scale: “there is nothing better than”) carries superlative force and
set against the bleak landscape of life that is impenetrable to human
discernment (1.15; 3.11), governed by God’s inscrutable will (e.g., 9.11-12)
and devoid of gainful purpose or progress. These commendations are embedded in
examples of absurdity: the arduousness of toil (2.23), the impenetrability of
time (3.11), the fragility of life and ignorance about the future (3.21), the
tragic loss of gain (5.13-17), and the overturning of moral standards (8.14).
Set against these absurdities, joy becomes absurdly minimal yet remains
redemptively significant. “There is joy in the fray.”
Sources:
William P. Brown, “Whatever
Your Hand Find’s to Do”, Interpretation,
55.03 (2006), 280-281]
Ecclesiastes
Robert Frost, “Two Tramps in Mud Time”
DJ Seifert, “Holy Irony”
(2013)
