for you will find it after many days.
Give a portion to seven, or even to eight,
for you know not what disaster may happen on earth.
If the clouds are full of rain,
they empty themselves on the earth,
and if a tree falls to the south or to the north,
in the place where the tree falls, there it will lie.
He who observes the wind will not sow,
and he who regards the clouds will not reap.
As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything. In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good." (Ecclesiastes 11:1-6)
Are you ever paralyzed by the uncertainties of life? Do you ever wait too long to act because you aren't able to determine an outcome with absolute certainty? Are you afraid to take risks?
If you are the kind of person who has to have all their ducks in a row before they will swim away from shore (I'll be the first to admit to this sort of tendency!), then the author of Ecclesiastes has a message for you (and me): WE DO NOT IN CONTROL THE OUTCOME! Argh... frustrating, I know! But true, nonetheless. All outcomes of all things ever done are ultimately in God's hands, and, as we've already seen, he doesn't generally tell us what is going to happen in advance. Rather, he invites us to trust him, and leave the end up to him. We are to live responsibly, in so far as we CAN see (there are other passages in the book that speak of careful action), but there is a point at which we may fall into the trap Ecclesiastes speaks of here, and spend all our days trying desperately to determine which way the wind is going to blow and whether the clouds are coming, and therefore DOING nothing. And if we sow nothing, there will be nothing to reap. We are called to be a people who live by faith in God's sovereign care, and with such a firm hand holding us up, to accept some amount of risk. After all, we don't know what disaster may occur (under God's full control) that may remove all chances for action.
If we will accept the risk, wisdom has another word for us. Because we are not God and can never know, with 100% certainty, what the end result of any action will be, the wisdom of Ecclesiastes invites us to live life broadly and generously. The wise person will not set all his hopes on one set of actions, hoard all his things in one spot or throw all his energy into making just one disciple. Instead, he will diversify his investments, so to speak. Like the sower in Jesus' parable in Matthew 13, we are called to spread God's word to as many people as possible, because we cannot know who will be hard soil and who will receive it with joy. Like the sower in 2 Corinthians 9, we are called to give generously and freely, though some of our gifts may not prosper, for whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, but whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Of course, we are mere humans. We do not have infinite seed for sowing, and there are also investment opportunities that are obviously worthless. But within the boundaries of the fields we have been given, with the wisdom God gives us, we are to sow generously, leaving the outcome to the God who reaps where he does not sow and gathers where he scattered no seed.
The other day we were waiting at a stoplight and a panhandler rolled his wheelchair over to our window. Instantly, we start the debate in our minds, "Does it REALLY help him if we give him some change? What if he uses it to buy alcohol or drugs or other harmful things--we don't want to be enablers. And the 50 cents we have on us could probably be used to better effect if given to a good program..." Well yes, there is wisdom in giving with care. We want our money to be used as well as possible. But on the other hand, Ecclesiastes offers a place for not over-thinking everything. Who am I to judge how some stranger will use the money I give (especially when he appears lucid)? Do I need to have such a mental debate over a quarter cup of coffee's worth of change? What if I just decide to sow a little seed on the edges of my field and let trust God with the outcome? There is a place for deep thought and carefulness. But do we also have a place for broad generosity and swiftness in our actions?
Wisdom trusts God and lives actively. And wisdom trusts God and lives generously. For all us wind-searchers and cloud-watchers, Ecclesiastes invites us to take our trust off of our own control and wisdom and to place it where it ultimately belongs: in God's control and in the wisdom of the Holy Spirit that is available to all who ask for it in faith.
If you are the kind of person who has to have all their ducks in a row before they will swim away from shore (I'll be the first to admit to this sort of tendency!), then the author of Ecclesiastes has a message for you (and me): WE DO NOT IN CONTROL THE OUTCOME! Argh... frustrating, I know! But true, nonetheless. All outcomes of all things ever done are ultimately in God's hands, and, as we've already seen, he doesn't generally tell us what is going to happen in advance. Rather, he invites us to trust him, and leave the end up to him. We are to live responsibly, in so far as we CAN see (there are other passages in the book that speak of careful action), but there is a point at which we may fall into the trap Ecclesiastes speaks of here, and spend all our days trying desperately to determine which way the wind is going to blow and whether the clouds are coming, and therefore DOING nothing. And if we sow nothing, there will be nothing to reap. We are called to be a people who live by faith in God's sovereign care, and with such a firm hand holding us up, to accept some amount of risk. After all, we don't know what disaster may occur (under God's full control) that may remove all chances for action.
If we will accept the risk, wisdom has another word for us. Because we are not God and can never know, with 100% certainty, what the end result of any action will be, the wisdom of Ecclesiastes invites us to live life broadly and generously. The wise person will not set all his hopes on one set of actions, hoard all his things in one spot or throw all his energy into making just one disciple. Instead, he will diversify his investments, so to speak. Like the sower in Jesus' parable in Matthew 13, we are called to spread God's word to as many people as possible, because we cannot know who will be hard soil and who will receive it with joy. Like the sower in 2 Corinthians 9, we are called to give generously and freely, though some of our gifts may not prosper, for whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, but whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Of course, we are mere humans. We do not have infinite seed for sowing, and there are also investment opportunities that are obviously worthless. But within the boundaries of the fields we have been given, with the wisdom God gives us, we are to sow generously, leaving the outcome to the God who reaps where he does not sow and gathers where he scattered no seed.
The other day we were waiting at a stoplight and a panhandler rolled his wheelchair over to our window. Instantly, we start the debate in our minds, "Does it REALLY help him if we give him some change? What if he uses it to buy alcohol or drugs or other harmful things--we don't want to be enablers. And the 50 cents we have on us could probably be used to better effect if given to a good program..." Well yes, there is wisdom in giving with care. We want our money to be used as well as possible. But on the other hand, Ecclesiastes offers a place for not over-thinking everything. Who am I to judge how some stranger will use the money I give (especially when he appears lucid)? Do I need to have such a mental debate over a quarter cup of coffee's worth of change? What if I just decide to sow a little seed on the edges of my field and let trust God with the outcome? There is a place for deep thought and carefulness. But do we also have a place for broad generosity and swiftness in our actions?
Wisdom trusts God and lives actively. And wisdom trusts God and lives generously. For all us wind-searchers and cloud-watchers, Ecclesiastes invites us to take our trust off of our own control and wisdom and to place it where it ultimately belongs: in God's control and in the wisdom of the Holy Spirit that is available to all who ask for it in faith.
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