Qohelet

Listen: “Dust in the Wind” by Kansas

I was preparing a talk recently for a group of spiritual seekers. As I contemplated what to say, I was drawn to the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes. The Hebrew name for the book is Qohelet. Several years ago I did a series of messages on this book entitled “Satisfied?” It was one of my favorite teaching series because of the intense quest for meaning depicted in the book. As I recently revisited Qohelet, I realized that my work with Spirituality Adventures is a contemporary version of Qohelet. Let me explain.

Qohelet comes from the Hebrew verb qahal which means “to assemble or to gather people together.” The Greek word for qahal in the New Testament is ecclesia which means assembly or gathering of people (where Ecclesiastes is derived), and it is the word that the Apostle Paul uses for “church”—an assembly of believers. Qohelet is either “the assembler” or “one who is a part of an assembly.” Qohelet is typically translated “the Teacher” or “the Preacher” or “the Convener,” but the primary idea is a group of people listening to philosophic discourse about the meaning of life.

“‘Everything is meaningless,’ says the Teacher [Qohelet], ‘completely meaningless!’” (Ecclesiastes 1:2; NLT). This is the opening of the book. Qohelet goes on to say: 

I, the Teacher [Qohelet], was king of Israel, and I lived in Jerusalem. I devoted myself to search for understanding and to explore by wisdom everything being done under heaven. I soon discovered that God has dealt a tragic existence to the human race. I observed everything going on under the sun, and really, it is all meaningless—like chasing the wind (Ecclesiastes 1:12-14; NLT). 

The Hebrew word translated “meaningless” is hevel. Qohelet abandoned himself to the pursuit of meaning by exploring pleasure, wine, women, building projects (like trying to reconstruct the Garden of Eden), family, power, and wealth. His conclusion was always hevel; it’s all hevel. Hevel is a fascinating word; it has nuanced tones like “vanity,” “enigmatic,” “impermanence,” “absurdity,” “breath,” or “vapor.” It is a dominate characteristic of the human experience of life—even the good moments in life seem to slip away. Buddhists call it “anicca.”

One of my favorite authors is John Krakauer. He is the author of Into Thin Air and Into the Wild. Into the Wild tells the story of Chris McCandless. Chris grew up in a typical WASP home on the east coast, and his parents were extremely concerned with outward appearance which disguised some of the harsh realities hidden at home. Chris went to Emory University, graduated, and then dropped off the grid. No one in his family knew where he was until September of 1992 at which time his dead body was found in a bus off the remote Stampede Trail in Alaska. He had starved to death due to eating a poisonous plant which he misidentified as an edible plant.

John Krakauer became fascinated with the story and retraced Chris’ steps, interviewing people who had met him on his two-year journey. Chris was intensely philosophical and traveled from Georgia out to California and finally up to Alaska, hitchhiking along the way. He was an avid reader of the transcendentalist, Thoreau and Emerson, and Chris wanted to throw off the confinements of society and institutional America. He wanted to get back to nature and live off the land in Alaska.

I’ve had these kind of thoughts since I was a young teenager learning to backpack and rock climb in Missouri and the Rocky Mountains. I identified with Chris as I read his story. Sean Penn eventually attained the movie rights and directed a beautiful film version of Chris McCandless’ story: Into the Wild. Eddie Vedder wrote the entire soundtrack to the movie—one of my favorite movie soundtracks of all-time. 

According to Qohelet, the search for meaning is an arduous and frustrating task. Faith and doubt travel together. How do we know anything? Can we really grasp meaning? What is knowable? Qohelet draws the reader into a journey filled with frustration, but ultimately it is the most important journey a person can make.

Musicians and poets have been writing lyrics inspired by Qohelet for millennia. As a teenager growing up in Kansas City in the 70’s, my favorite progressive rock band was Kansas. Kerry Livgren was a spiritual seeker and all his songs were infused with the same kind of search for meaning that Qohelet displayed. Livgren wrote a song inspired by Qohelet called “Dust in the Wind:”

I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment’s gone

All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind

Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the win 

Now, don’t hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky

It slips away, and all your money won’t another minute buy

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind

It’s a noble journey—the pursuit of meaning and purpose—even though it feels like we are trying to get a grip on vapor. The Universe beckons us. Spirituality Adventures is a non-judgmental place to explore spirituality. My goal is simply to gather people who are on this journey, have philosophical discourse, and grow together. I hope you will join me.

Shalom

©realfredherron 2021