For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance…
Ecclesiastes 3:1-4
Calling to mind the words of Qohelet—or, by extension, the rock band The Byrds—many pastoral leaders have little doubt about what sort of time we are living in: It is a time for weeping, and a time for mourning. It is a time for speaking up about injustice, and a time for protesting the abuse of power. It is a time for embracing lament, and decrying war.
Perhaps so, but in coming to the conclusion that it is the time only for these things we miss the point of Ecclesiastes 3.
Many have come to read this passage as presenting an either/or logic: It is a time for mourning or dancing; it is a time for weeping or laughing. But the grammar of the text reads differently. The conjunction connecting the polarities named in each line of poetry suggests that, in any given time, there is reason for both mourning and dancing, both weeping and laughing. This reading is reinforced by the message of the book of Ecclesiastes as a whole, which stresses that in a light of the complexity of the world and the limits of human knowledge, it would be a “vanity of vanities” (Eccl 1:2) to try to reduce any moment in time to a singular experience, message, or call to action.
The logic of Ecclesiastes is both/and, not either/or.
The same is true of other parts of Scripture. Consider the Psalter. In it, we find soaring hymns of praise as well as jarring prayers of lament. Rather than being sequestered into different sections of the Psalter, we find praise and lament interleaved throughout the book, thus making any given part of the Psalter capable of reflecting, as John Calvin once put it, “the full anatomy of the soul.” What’s more, this interleafing of praise and lament is found within most individual psalms. Virtually every lament includes a movement toward praise, and virtually every hymn of praise articulates experiences of grief.
The both/and logic of Ecclesiastes 3 and the Psalter is also found in the pews of our churches. People are complicated, and even in the most progressive or conservative congregations views about the world are not monolithic. Interleaved with feelings of despair and anxiety are counter-narratives of joy, gratitude, hope, and beauty.
What if our pastoral ministries were more attuned to this being a both/and time?
How would it help us tell a different and truer story about Jesus and faith? How would it help us engage more fully with real people in our congregations rather than the caricatures given to us by the pundits? How would acknowledging both/and complexities within our own hearts and minds help us come to a more authentic preaching voice?
Embracing the both/and of life and Scripture just might help us be more deeply transformed by a gospel that has space for death and resurrection, the already and the not yet.
Questions:
- If you could extend Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 by a few verses, what pairs of actions/feelings would you add that reflect the complexity of this moment?
- Recently, where have you experienced counter-narratives of joy, gratitude, beauty, and hope break through the noise of despair?
- Where do you find both/add complexities in your own views of the world or current events?
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