Tuesday, 17 November 2009

Lessons from Qoheleth

What has become clear is that retreating in daily life can seriously effect one's blogging ability(?)/time(?).

One of the scriptures that I've been reflecting on in the last week or two is in the book of Ecclesiastes; Qoheleth (the Teacher) is reflecting, philosophically more than religiously, on the absurdity of life and how, therefore, we should live. The verses I was particularly drawn to are in chapter 3.

"What do people really get for all their hard work? I have seen the burden God has placed on us all. Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end."

It's this tension we live in - God has placed eternity in our hearts - there is the pull to something more - we recognise a connection, some greater calling on us as human beings, but in spite of this we can never understand the full extent of what God is doing. Now I believe in "the prophetic in the every day" - where God underlines something from a common or garden experience that illustrates something that he is speaking to me about. So I had a couple of examples of this in the last week.

The first one - I was at a conference staying in a hotel beside the sea. I was taking some time out before dinner to do my daily contemplative prayer - it was dark but I could still see the waves crashing on the beach - which is something I love - so kept the curtains open. As I was meditating I looked out of the window and saw the moon begin to rise above some clouds on the horizon, a huge, pink, full moon - it was an amazing sight. I heard the invitation to be attentive to this, to watch it unfolding. And as I watched I was aware of people driving cars, I could see the lights fanning out in front of them on the road; people going about their everyday lives, rushing home from work; I was aware that some people were sitting behind the closed curtains of their hotel room or inside their houses, perhaps making dinner, distracted by other things; who weren't aware of the beauty of what was unfolding in the sky above them.

Secondly - a few mornings ago I was driving over the bridge, under a steel grey Scottish, November sky, and in the middle of it was a huge complete rainbow, with a lighter reflected rainbow next to it. The thing was that it was at the back of me and I couldn't glimpse the whole thing - just glances as I drove; a partial view in my wing mirror; another in my rear mirror - but the symbol of God's love and grace was right there - I just couldn't see it all at once.

Two examples of God's work continuing on while we can only see a glimpse or where the cares of the day crowd in on us and we miss God doing something amazing. But the comfort is that God is in control, that the Creator is always at work directing his creation.

The passage continues

"So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can. And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labour, for these are gifts from God."

I guess that brings us back to the whole attentive, grateful and prayerful thing again - being conscious of the everyday things that we do - working or eating or drinking - God has made even these beautiful and we should do them with pleasure, recognising the bigger work of God which goes on always whether we witness it or not.

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