* Over the next few days I’m going to re-post an edgy mini-series I’ve affectionately dubbed “Solomon the Stupid.” It will challenge, agitate, and inspire you. I hope.
I laughed at a Bible verse yesterday. Out loud, I think.
I was reading Ecclesiastes, which opens like a live interview on the evening news: “The words of the Teacher, son of David, king in Jerusalem.”
Pan in to a set of solid gold double doors. They’re closed. Voiceover: “Here’s Solomon, holder of five PHDs, international spokesperson for Israel, gardener extraordinaire, winner of Guiness’ world’s largest harem, wisest man in the world, son of David, the most popular King in Isrealite history, your current leader….”
Cue doors to fling open, zoom in on Solomon. Solomon is banging his head against the wall of his bedroom. There are pizza boxes everywhere, empty beer cans, a thousand peanuts strewn across the floor, and five scantily clad women trying to cover themselves and make for the bathroom.
“Sir? Sir! You’re on!”
Solomon pauses, then sighs. He turns to the camera. His eyes are wild. His hair is unkempt. He’s mute.
“Sir. Say something. Say anything.”
Solomon laughs. Not a guffaw, not a giggle, mind you — I’m talking a maniacal, over the top, frightening laugh. All eyes are on him. The camera’s red light is blinking. And he speaks.
“Meaningless…”
“Sir?”
“Meaningless. Utterly meaningless. Everything is meaningless!”
“Uh, cut to commercial. Harem boy’s lost it.”
“NO! I’m the King. I say, ‘roll it.'”
“Sir, have you been drinking again?”
“Yup. A lot. And having sex ten times a day and building stuff, and knocking it down, and indulging myself, and…”
And the camera keeps rolling. He’s the King, after all. For twelve chapters, the guy drones on and on. And somehow, his rant gets into the Bible. Somehow we’ve spiritualized Solomon’s backsliding, envisioning him dispassionately taking a tour of the Playboy mansion as a scientist without a pulse. But be honest: This has “Chris Crocker YouTube moment” written all over it. It isn’t pretty. We can, however, learn from it.
Yes, let’s. See you tomorrow for my thoughts.
In the meantime, please feel free to weigh in with your comments.
I think I know where you’re going with this, Brad, and I’m excited about it. Shane Hipps and Rob Bell did a several-week sermon series on Ecclesiastes last year, and treated ol’ Solomon a bit more charitably than I think you’re planning to (not that I’m trying to talk you out of this series). They say the word ‘hevel’ literally means ‘vapor,’ and they translate it to mean ‘temporary,’ not ‘meaningless,’ so the whole book takes on a decidedly different flavor in that context. I’m not sure if you can download the podcasts for free anymore, but I have them if you want them.
Rob, the Hebrew word you mentioned does mean “vapour” and is used 67 times in the Old Testament. It’s varied usage is as follows (#s indicate number of times it was translated as that English word): – breath, 5; delusion, 2; emptily, 1; emptiness, 2; fleeting, 2; fraud, 1; futile, 1; futility, 13; idols, 7; mere breath, 2; nothing, 1; useless, 1; vain, 3; vainly, 1; vanity, 19; vanity of vanities, 3; vapor, 1; worthless, 2.
As you can see, although the word literally means vapour, in Hebrew the idea of “temporary” is not overtly connected with that word. I believe Hipps and Bell are taking liberties with the text. That said, you’ll be happy to know my rant this week stems from Solomon’s behaviour more than his words. 😉