The Structure of Ecclesiastes

Is life worth living?  To the casual reader of Ecclesiastes it seems that the answer would be, "Yes, if you are successful."  Honestly, to a reader with American sensibilities, this seems super harsh.  While most of the Old Testament is written to God's people corporately, Ecclesiastes (like other Wisdom literature) is written to the individual.   To a reader with American sensibilities, this seems more appropriate or desirable

The structure proper is very simple.  A prologue, followed by a lengthy lecture, some may call a diatribe, but I prefer sermon, followed by an epilogue. Everything centers around this lecture by "The Preacher."  So, what are the elements of this diatribe?  He refers to a series of items as "vanity."  These things blatantly include wisdom, self-indulgence, living wisely, toil, wealth and honor, attempting to know God's Way, Life, and Youth or vigor.  If we read between the lines, that list would be much longer.

Many fights have been waged over this word that the King James translates "vanity."  I used to work with Dr. Dan Fredericks, who was on a translation committee for wisdom books of multiple versions that have come out in the 50 years before our time together.  His opinion ("temporary" as the correct word) was the minority opinion in each of those translations.  I do believe that as I read the book, that word leads me to the best conclusions of the text therein.

Now, whether you choose to believe that the pockets of applied wisdom come from things being vanity, meaningless, futility, soap bubbles, or even temporary may not matter.  So long as we grasp that those pockets of wisdom are pointing us to the right way of living.  I'm not sure I agree with The Byrds take that we should turn, but even the oldie Rock band understood that application in a sermon comes after setting forth observations.

While Job gains wisdom through his loss of everything, the Preacher is learning his Wisdom through having it all and realizing the folly of trying to gain peace through acquiring things. This is why this book can speak so directly to our American sensibilities, where hedonism reigns in our capitalistic society.  More than most books in the Bible, Ecclesiastes deals with the reality of the Fall on our every day lives.

GK Chesterton said that he was once better and worse than all of creation, but then God changed him.  After this, he realized that Christians are not made for this world alone.  The Preacher reconciles the futility of our life in the Fall.  However, I believe the overlooked (and essential) part to this Ecclesiastical concept of life is the phrase "under the sun."  This is why we, as Christians, live our life on this earth as homesick. A biblical balance of recognizing the good of creation, the awfulness of the Fall, and the hope we have in being recreated all working together helps us see the place of Ecclesiastes.

 We can trust this Preacher because he is living in a world, which we see so much like our own, that feel-good optimism is not the ultimate achievement, but rather that the temporary nature of our life is not final. "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man.  For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil."  It is that World that we long for!

The Nature of Biblical Wisdom

A lot of people think that wisdom is a good idea, but not an essential attribute for proper Christian living. Almost like the idea that LeBron James would benefit from being able to shoot like Stephen Curry, but he doesn't need to do that in order to be great. This couldn't be further from the truth. We are literally commanded to be wise, just like we are commanded to obey and to be honest. This indicates that this is something that is attainable by all Christians, and when we don't attain it, we are disobeying God.

Dr. Sam Horn once said, "The opposite of wisdom is not ignorance.  It is wickedness."  The fact that this is so striking to us indicates that we have tremendously discounted what wisdom is in our culture.  We like to think that wisdom is merely what is gained by living for a long time.  While it is undeniable that wisdom ordinarily accompanies old age, that also makes wisdom much like physical deterioration or cancer.  This obviously sells it short, but even those who supposedly value wisdom, treat wisdom with much less reverence than does the Bible.  As a culture, we have flattened wisdom to knowledge.

What wisdom actually is, on the other hand, is the intersection of knowledge and zeal, turning right understanding into right action.   According to Bruce Waltke's interpretation of Proverbs 1 , Wisdom includes knowledge, understanding, subtilty, discretion, learning, and understanding.  While I'm tempted to merely regurgitate TS Eliot's Pyramid of Organisational Knowledge, I am persuaded that even it is flawed.  Because true wisdom requires not just knowledge (or any of the other virtues in Proverbs 1), but it must also include the acknowledgement from whence it came (Col 2:3).  Consider, a person with tremendous worldly "wisdom" who does not accept that true wisdom comes from Christ.  I believe I Corinthians 1 gives an answer for this.

It is written: "I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent. Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer of this world? hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe."

There is certainly worldly wisdom available to those who are not redeemed, but much like the Heidelberg Catechism definition of good mandates that real good can only be attained by and through a saving faith in Jesus Christ, real wisdom is only available in the same circumstance.  The Bible references a wisdom generally meaning "masterful understanding" and "skill." Wisdom is used of technical and artistic skills (Exo 28:3; 31:6), of the arts of magic (Exo 7:11; Isa 3:3), government (Ecc 4:13; Jer. 50:35), diplomacy (1 Kings 5:7) and war (Isa 10:3). One also rules a nation by the ability to judge (1 Kings 3:28; Isa. 11:1-6) and to separate the guilty from the community (Prov. 20:26) and, through cleverness, to master people and situations (2 Sam. 14:2; Job 39:15,17).

While knowledge must be present within wisdom, it is a tremendous disservice to equate it to mere knowledge (incidentally, TS Eliot warns in the same hymn us against flattened knowledge to information, but that is a discussion for a different paper). Fools hate knowledge (Prov 1:22,29), and it is easy to see that life without it is much tougher. Wisdom allows a wide swath of people (of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues) to achieve what the world would say is impossible. Proverbs compares wisdom to an ant (Proverbs 6:6-8). Then, in Proverbs 30, big animals (lion, greyhound, and goat) as well as small animals (conies, locusts, and spiders) are added to the ant as exhibiting wisdom. In short, this book of Proverbs transforms a term that our culture neutralizes, wisdom, into the virtue that is the culmination of all other virtues.

The Purpose of Job

As I am crossing over to the phase of life where most of my anecdotes are from the perspective of a parent, rather than the perspective of a child, I often find myself giving the answer that drove me crazy as a child, "Because I said so."

The answer seems so arbitrary as a child.  It seems so inferior in its presentation.  It seems as though we are being left out of the decision-making for our own destiny, and we don't like it.  As a parent, it is exasperating to have more wisdom and have that wisdom questioned.  It is frustrating to have someone whose decisions clearly lead to devastation and despair attempt to engage you in an argument that his decision is better.

So, much like a dog chasing a mechanical rabbit, I delve into the book of Job, and I see that God is the ultimate parent.  God sees things that we don't.  I'm even willing to guess that there is still much to the story of Job that we, even if we've read the text twice in the last couple weeks, still don't know.

I also come into the reading with two truths behind me (hopefully I know more truths than two, but there are two specific things that I think I must accept before reading Job, and let's call them Isaiah 55:8-9 and Romans 8:28-29).  While I am tempted to ignore the bulk of the book completely and just comment on the parts at the beginning and the end where we see the Sovereignty of God more clearly on display, I fear that would make me just as error-filled as Job's "comforters."  To completely neglect the majority of the book would require me to inject my own thoughts about incomplete data.

Job had three friends that we hear from quite a bit—Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. According to Maimonides, each of Job's friends represents a different position on divine providence: "Eliphaz represents the biblical or rabbinic tradition—Job is being punished for his sins; Bildad expresses the view of the Mutazillites—Job is being tested to receive a greater reward; and Zophar presents the view of the Asharites—Job suffers because of God's arbitrary will."

Now, I cannot speak for what the Jews, Mutazillites, and Asharites believed in the Middle Ages (or before), but I can clearly see that the general populace often looks for an explanation for God doing things.  Many people look for the easiest answer to explain a God that is too complex for them to understand or simply doesn't fit with what they want to believe about God.  

This is the underlying purpose of Job.  God is not made in our image.  God is not bound by our definition of fairness.  As we view God, sometimes we, like a child, think we know best.  We believe that our lives would be better if we did not lose family, friends, or finances.  We, however, see through the story of Job that God worked in this situation not to achieve the blessing of the creation, but rather, as the Creator, he had an inherent knowledge that surpassed Job's knowledge.

The certain reaction to this firm grasp of the obvious is to worship.  To begin to fathom the greatness of God, the very God who created a world so fantastic that we are but a speck in it, is to understand that this God must be worshiped.  When combined with the rest of Scripture, we can appreciate much more about God, but those are potentially discussions for another topic.

Grief 101

I am by no means an expert on this subject.  Fortunately, I had only two deaths in my life that were meaningful before my dad's departure last month.  One of those was my grandfather, who died when I was 5 years old and frankly I was was not exceedingly mature and the impact on me at that time was therefore not very profound.:)  The second was a man that I didn't meet until he was well into his eighties and I was honestly just thankful that I had the chances to learn from him that I did.  I also haven't had a life worthy of many other huge griefs.

Therefore, I am not writing this because I think anyone will learn or even needs to learn from my writing.  I am writing this because I realize just how poor of a friend I have been to those who are friends of mine, who lost someone.  I am writing because I never knew what to say to people when they were grieved by things that just didn't affect me very much.  Finally, I am writing because I am hopeful that it will be cathartic for me to put words to the page.

The first thing that has surprised me is that recovering from grief is not linear. In fact, it often is all over the place.  Much like many things in life, there are good days and there are bad ones.  I've made it through an entire day where my life almost seems normal.  However, that does not mean the next day will be more of the same.  I do believe that as time continues to march on and I build more memories with the people I have left, the impact won't encompass as much as it does.  But I learned from my father and the aforementioned death of his father that that pain never truly leaves and there will probably be days when my son becomes an adult that just make me sad thinking about how much I want my dad.

Sometimes being busy takes your mind off of the situation, but there have been a few times in just the short time I've had, where my busy-ness makes me think I need to tell my dad something or reminds me of a time we were working together.  As I pick up my phone, I realize that he won't be on the other end of that call.  I find myself suffering from intense malaise.  I have been so much less productive with my life, and it isn't that my dad is needed for me to do the simple things (like pay my bills), but rather that I just can't seem to be as excited about life in general.

I can only imagine how difficult it would be if I didn't have faith in God or the knowledge that my dad was with him.  Even that knowledge does not take away the reality that my life is forever changed.  While that knowledge makes me very happy for him, it still leaves me missing him.  Finally, I don't need the comfort of hearing where he is.  I imagine this is even more true for the atheist.  What we want, I believe, is someone to empathize with what we are feeling, not to tell us what he is feeling.

By the way, we all love hearing that people are willing to help, but I think a more appropriate statement would be identifying a precise way that you can help.  For example, I'll bring you dinner on Tuesday or we'll watch your kids one night or let me run an errand for you or this is how we can meet and reminisce about your dad.  No one in grief is likely to make a Rolodex of all the people willing to help and call them as the needs come in.  In fact, the needs are normally unknown.  I mean someone had to remind me to eat the other day.  Me!

Overall, the biggest thing is that I am not necessarily doing better today, just because my father's death is one day further away.  Today might be the first time I heard a song he liked in church or the 20th time I get into the car that used to be his or the first time I saw his favorite team play or the 800th time I run across something at work that he would be a great sounding board for.  The reality is that for 40 years of life, my dad was my confidant, my fan, my mentor, my accountability partner, my fellow cheerleader for our teams, my friend, and my father.

Life just won't ever be the same, and no matter where I know he is, I selfishly want him here.  I want him to see his grand-kids continue to grow (hopefully in the nurture and admonition of the Lord), and then see my grand-children do the same.  I want him to give me advice and be there for my mother, my sister, and me.  But most of all, I just want to see him.  And while I do not grieve as those who have no hope, I'm sure I'll continue to cry for me.  And I'm not sure that will be any different, even if I live another 40 years.

A Few Insufficient Words about Paul West

If you did not attend my father's celebration of life party/funeral, you must watch the video we showed.  At any rate, a few people asked for a copy of my remarks at the funeral.  Here they are.

For the first 18 years of my life (Do you remember back in elementary school or high school? when you are trying to get your identity.  When most of us are wondering what we will ever turn into)– yes that first 18 years of my life– I think everyone knew me as Paul's annoying son.  I was OK with that, I was proud of him, and I was never jealous of anything that he had.  That's probably because my father was the most generous man on the planet.

I was the son they had to put up with to spend time with the greatness of Mr. West.  But somewhere around the end of that childhood, something magical began to happen.  People started telling me that I would turn out just like my father.  I wore it like a badge of honor.  To this day when people tell me that I will end up like him, I get excited.  I think one person even tried to insult me with it, but I took it as such a compliment that it never stuck.

I had a tremendously enthusiastic and energetic father.  When I went to college, it was the one time in life when a majority of the people I knew and interacted with did not know me as the son of Paul.  Nevertheless, his impact was profound.  I remember his calls of encouragement and his championing my choices.  He flew me home to take the real estate exam.  He flew me home to watch my favorite basketball team (Shawn Kemp and the Seattle SuperSonics) in both Miami and Orlando.  He went to law school and told me I should go, too.  He congratulated me and was excited for me when Kelly and I got engaged.  I began to believe that “nothing great in life can happen without enthusiasm.” 

My father was about the most supportive man you could imagine.  He set me up for success in law school by buying me books for classes, hooking me up with an old high school friend of his who ended up being family to Kelly and me while we were in Tallahassee.  When I finally graduated from all my over-education, he hired me.  I’d go off and find other jobs, and he would re-hire me.  I never had to worry about a place to work, as he continued to provide for me even past when you would think it would be normal.

My father was a tremendous grandfather.  He began to move around less and was slightly less energetic, but he was a grandfather who had inside jokes with every grandkid.  He made each of them feel super special.  He continued to exhibit to me what it means to be a good father and husband.  He was an endless supply of love for all of us.  He truly rejoiced with us when we rejoiced and wept with us when we were weeping.

I feel blessed beyond measure that I had the most loving father.  I’ve read that many people struggle with a concept of God because their earthly fathers were not.  But through my father, I have easily learned what it means to have a God who gives us endlessly.  I see what it means to know a heavenly Father who likes to give good gifts, regardless of our worry.  I see what it is like to have someone who loves you, even when you are unlovable.  But the absolute best thing about my father is that when I tried to tell him stuff like that, he would merely say that he was a shadowy, in-a-glass, dark representation of Christ.  He was flawed, but his Savior was not. 

Throughout my life, I can hear my father quoting Scripture to me (and I still can hear his voice teaching me through Scripture).  You see the legacy of Paul West is not just that he knew a lot of Scripture (though he did), or that he encouraged all of us to learn Scripture (though he did that, too), or that he exemplified what a godly man looks life (once again, he did).  It’s that he did all of that concurrently while all the time saying that you could live like that through the help of his God.  And that has impacted my life so profoundly and I know it has impacted many of you in the same way. 

You see, his legacy will continue by us all applying the great things he taught us and becoming saints like unto him.  This is a precious occasion, as “Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints.”  The challenge for me is not to remember him fondly– that is easily done– but rather to live the life that he would be proud of and that can only be done by constantly going to the reservoir of God’s love as my dad has shown me to do.

I'm Chasing Ghosts

"Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do: and the God of peace shall be with you."

When I was younger, my father encouraged me to Bible Quiz.  Because of that, I learned many, many Bible verses.  While I complained about his nagging as a child, I find myself doing the exact same thing (though perhaps less lovingly) to my children.  This is because the momentary frustration of the time is not even worthy of being compared to the benefits I continue to observe from this blessing into adulthood.

Now, my father passed away yesterday, and the repercussions of that are going to be carried on into the rest of my life, as I begin to learn to navigate the next chapter of my life in this world without him.  How do I pay tribute to the man who shaped me more than can be expressed with words?  The reality is that I cannot.  

As my extended family came together this week to mourn the passing of my father, we told stories of our wonderful lives, because of him.  As the outpouring has come, we know that so many of you were impacted also, because he was a great man.  But, some of the people who were greatly impacted led to stories about how awesome my dad was that I didn't even know.  The reality is that he was not just a great man at home or just a great man in the public eye, he was always exemplifying Christ wherever he was.

While my grandparents could not have known 65 years ago when they named him after the apostle that he would turn out as fantastic as he did, the reality is that the above named verse, written by the man whose name he shared, is one that I will carry when thinking about him.  This is not just because in the sub-vocalization of this Scripture in my mind, the voice-over I hear is my father's voice. It is because I know that the things I need to do are those things that I learned, received, heard, and saw in him.


My good friend, David Poston, pointed out to me a few years ago that many modern Christians will say don't ever look at me, only look to Christ.  And while we would both affirm that salvation only comes from Christ, it is also true that the Bible affirms that God puts examples in our lives for the express purpose of our edification and training.  I was fortunate to have that example in my home for the first half of my life.

It would be difficult to shape someone more than my father shaped me.  Briefly, he is the primary reason I participate in Bible Quiz, he made/encouraged me to get my real estate license right after high school (much of my work centers around real estate), he encouraged me to go to law school, and he modeled being a wonderful husband and father to me.  I hope to be half that good of a husband to Kelly, and father to Jacob, Emily, and Julia.

And, this is why I am chasing ghosts.  My father left such an indelible imprint on this world that I find it impossible to believe he did it all in just 65 years.  I have no doubts that my father has heard, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant" and is with his Savior.  I also have no doubts that the only hope I (or any of us) have is that we allow God to do great things through us.  I also feel like I cannot possibly catch up to the legacy my father left.  But I know, with God's help, I will do all I can.  He gave me the name "West" in pristine condition, and I will try to keep it that way.

So, I got a Speeding Ticket

The title alone will grip most of you, especially those who have braved a trip or two in a car with me.  As far back as high school, a friend created a nickname for the handles in the car I drove, as he always felt the need to hold them.  Especially when on trips, I find the need to go faster as it cuts down on travel time and allows me to get to the hotel where I can order a pizza quicker!

 So, while I am admitting guilt in general, the frustrating thing about this ticket was that I was not guilty on this one occasion.  And, unfortunately, I feel like the person giving me the ticket knew I wasn't speeding.  I feel like this was a case of someone knowing that he could get away with giving me a ticket.  So, how did I come to this conclusion?  Well, here is the rest of the story.

I was traveling to a Bible Quiz event in Athens, Georgia.  I had my older two children in the car, and I departed from my home around noon.  Because of reasons I cannot pinpoint, I got in the car and started heading to Greenville, SC (most of my quiz trips in the car are headed that way, but it really is an excuse-less crime).  I was past Daytona (over an hour drive from the genesis of my trip) before I realized that I had completely dropped the ball.

At this point, I called my wife and asked her to look on the computer and see if it was faster to turn around and drive that extra hour plus or to cut over from I-95 westward sometime later in the journey.  Her quick research told me that it was faster to cut over on I-16 and then head up GA-19 to US 441.  So, that became our new plan, and my daughter (who was taking a road trip on her birthday—isn't she a glutton for punishment) would have to wait longer before using her birthday present (a tablet) at a hotel to watch children's movies.

So, travelling interstates is pretty standard and not worthy of extra care, so I am confident I sped a fair percentage of the time on them, but once I got off of I-16, I had to trek on a two to four lane road with which I was not familiar. Therefore, I was driving extra slowly.  Much of the road had a 65 MPH speed limit, which I adapted to by setting cruise control at 69 MPH.  (So, I am admitting to speeding a little).  There was a sign that said reduce speed ahead and intersection.  As soon as I saw that sign, I hit the breaks, not because I am a law abiding citizen, but because I did not want to get lost in a place I did not know, running low on gas, with two pre-pubescent children in the back seat, who are likely to fight if the situation turns negative.

Within a half mile, the speed limit reduced to 55 MPH.  I was heading up a hill, so while I do not know precisely how fast I was going at each instant, I am aware that I was gradually slowing down and I know that after the hill was a sign that said 45 MPH.  When I passed the sign I looked at the speedometer, which read 43 MPH (don't you love digital displays?) at the moment I crossed into the slower zone.  About a mile ahead was a stop light, next to which was a police officer.  As I traveled seven tenths of a mile, I pulled up to the stoplight, where I came to a complete stop and the police office pulled up right behind me.

As I sat there for what seemed like forever (the clock ticked off 4 minutes, and nary a car was anywhere in sight), the light eventually turned green again.  I took off, careful not to exceed the 45 MPH.  I got about a half mile down the road, when the officer turned on his lights.  I knew I had not sped since he was behind me and it had been greater than seven minutes since I had even been speeding the 4 MPH I knew about.  So, I am thinking of witty rebuttals and what I should say, and then began freaking out, as I had no idea where the rental paperwork had been put by my wife, when she packed my kids' things.

Officer Terns Fadley (or something close to that, which I cannot read off the ticket) came up and said "Give me your license."  My first thought was this guy is not a police officer, as I've been pulled over before (again, I speed with some frequency) and never had the guy not asked me what I had done or told me what I did.  However, with children, I didn't want to alert him that I would not cooperate.  Then, as he left with my license, I began to think that he just wanted to verify that I was a legitimate driver, as I was in the middle of nowhere with Florida plates.

However, fifteen minutes later, I began to wonder what was going on.  Some twenty seven minutes later, he came back, took 10 seconds explaining the ticket to me, dropped it off, and went back to his car.  Somewhere in that explanation I hear "seventy five."  I look at my ticket and he says I was going 75 in a 55.  Now, first, assuming that his radar equipment is able to check for speeds on the other sides of hills, I have no idea how he knows whether I was going that speed in the 55 or 65 MPH zone.  Second, why did he sit behind me for four minutes at the light and let me take off before pulling me over?  Third, why did he not show or tell me how he got me?  Finally, why did he say I was driving 75 MPH, when I never was on that road?

The problems with this are I cannot prove anything (I would love to see the video, as I am quite certain that he did not do what he was supposed to do, even if I had been guilty), I never go through this area (and, after this, I'll make sure it never happens again) and the cost to go defend it (even if I were guaranteed a win) would probably be greater than paying the stupid ticket.  So, why do I even talk about this?  Well, first of all, this is the first time in my life where I felt I was targeted.  I've lived a pretty good life, free of feeling like I was unduly targeted, but honestly, that is my feeling in this.  As I have sat on this for three weeks, I have only become more convinced of this fact.

This one time of small persecution is not even worthy to be compared with what many others have suffered, but I now feel that I have a greater appreciation with those who have suffered at the hands of institutional targeting, persecution, or harassment.  Maybe that is the lesson that I need to learn from this, though I am sure God also wants me to slow down regularly.