The Slavery of Death: Part 26, Ecclesiastes as Exorcism

In the last few posts we've been talking a great deal about how our pursuit of self-esteem, identity, significance and meaning are often driven by neurotic existential anxiety, a denial of death to use the words of Ernest Becker. In biblical language we engage in idolatry, serving the principalities and powers in the hope that we might bask in their reflected glory, purpose, and seeming immortality. If we serve the principalities and powers people speak well of us, our life is said to matter, we've "made a difference."

But as William Stringfellow has pointed out, service to the powers is service to death. At root, the spirituality of the powers is the spirituality of survival. Although the rhetoric of the powers is intoxicating, their mission statements tending toward messiahism, at the end of the day the "bottom line" (however that is measured) is the ruling ethic. For example, at my Christian university when ideals clash with hard economics the refrain is heard, "Well, we are a business."

Not to suggest that the powers are simply workplaces, industry, and businesses. I keep coming back to Stringfellow's examples that the powers are "legion":

According to the Bible, the principalities are legion in species, number, variety and name. They are designated by such multifarious titles as powers, virtues, thrones, authorities, dominions, demons, princes, strongholds, lords, angels, gods, elements, spirits…

Terms that characterize are frequently used biblically in naming the principalities: “tempter,” “mocker,” “foul spirit,” “destroyer,” “adversary,” “the enemy.” And the privity of the principalities to the power of death incarnate is shown in mention of their agency to Beelzebub or Satan or the Devil or the Antichrist…

And if some of these seem quaint, transposed into contemporary language they lose quaintness and the principalities become recognizable and all too familiar: they include all institutions, all ideologies, all images, all movements, all causes, all corporations, all bureaucracies, all traditions, all methods and routines, all conglomerates, all races, all nations, all idols. Thus, the Pentagon or the Ford Motor Company or Harvard University or the Hudson Institute or Consolidated Edison or the Diners Club or the Olympics or the Methodist Church or the Teamsters Union are principalities. So are capitalism, Maoism, humanism, Mormonism, astrology, the Puritan work ethic, science and scientism, white supremacy, patriotism, plus many, many more—sports, sex, any profession or discipline, technology, money, the family—beyond any prospect of full enumeration. The principalities and powers are legion.

Following Walter Wink we've described service to the powers in this series as "demonic possession." When involved in idolatry the spirituality of the power becomes internalized. We become possessed, possessed by the "angel" of the power which is the angel of death. These death-serving angels could be named "demons," satanic forces that that have taken up residence inside of us. Stringfellow describes the process:

People are veritably besieged, on all sides, at every moment simultaneously by these claims and strivings of the various powers each seeking to dominate, usurp, or take a person’s time, attention, abilities, effort; each grasping at life itself; each demanding idolatrous service and loyalty…

Exorcism, then, is a matter of expelling this spirituality from our lives. In the last post I described this as a renunciation of idolatry, rejecting the false gods of self-esteem and meaning within the culture. We "die" and become indifferent to the ways the various powers in the culture attempt to "dominate, usurp, or take our time, attention, abilities, effort." Like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego we refuse to kneel to Nebuchadnezzar's idol. In the language of Revelation we "come out" from Babylon. In the language of Paul we no longer see the world "from a human point of view." In the language of Jesus we lose our life so that we might find it, storing up treasures in heaven and not on earth.

And in the language of Ecclesiastes we declare the idolatrous pursuit of self-esteem and significance to be "meaningless" and "vanity."

In light of this I'd like to suggest that Ecclesiastes is a great treatise on exorcism. Perhaps the most powerful exorcist text in the bible.

Many think Ecclesiastes is depressing. Only if you're demon possessed! For the great task of Ecclesiastes is to expose the dynamic at work behind service to the powers, the pursuit of meaning and self-esteem through the cultural hero system. Who is Oz, the force behind the curtain pulling the levers of achievement, reputation, significance, and self-esteem? What Ecclesiastes shows us, in pulling back the curtain, is exactly what Ernest Becker has shown us: death is the force in the background driving the show.

Because of this Ecclesiastes talks a lot about death. And for a culture dominated by a denial of death that topic can seem morbid and depressing. But think about how death is being used in Ecclesiastes. Death is being deployed to show the futility of the self-esteem project, that idolatry is, at root, a service to the angel of death. Ecclesiastes isn't about existentialism and angst. Ecclesiastes is interested in smashing idols. Ecclesiastes is interested in exorcism, purging our soul of death-oriented spiritual strivings. Ecclesiastes is trying to get us to stand with St. Paul and declare that the self-esteem project is one big pile of "rubbish":

I applied my mind to study and to explore by wisdom all that is done under the heavens...

I tried cheering myself with wine, and embracing folly...

I undertook great projects...

I amassed silver and gold for myself...

I denied myself nothing my eyes desired...

The verdict? Meaninglessness. Death overtakes it all.

And so, to echo the Revelation of St. John: "Come out, come out. Come out my people."

Come out into what? What does it look like when I renounce the principalities and powers and the self-esteem I try to borrow from them? The answers from Ecclesiastes:

A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil. This too, I see, is from the hand of God.

I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live.

Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their labor:
If either of them falls down,
one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
and has no one to help them up.
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Do not be overrighteous,
neither be overwise—
why destroy yourself?
Do not be overwicked,
and do not be a fool—
why die before your time?
It is good to grasp the one
and not let go of the other.
Whoever fears God will avoid all extremes.

Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for God has already approved what you do. Always be clothed in white, and always anoint your head with oil. Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun—all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might...

The quiet words of the wise are more to be heeded
than the shouts of a ruler of fools.
Wisdom is better than weapons of war.

Of course, this is not an exhaustive account of the positive message of Ecclesiastes. Nor am I saying the message is 100% consistent. But I believe the cumulative message is clear:

Give up the striving after self-esteem and significance. How? Do good work. Enjoy the work for itself. Don't turn work into a self-esteem project. Don't serve that power. Put aside the anxiety of chasing self-esteem and significance and learn to enjoy the day. Notice the simple gifts of food and drink. Be present with your loved ones. Cherish and cultivate friendships. Don't turn religion into a self-esteem project. Don't be too righteous. Yet don't be foolish either. Seek wisdom over violence and war. Avoid the propaganda of nations and fools. Spend the day doing good.

This, in the estimation of Ecclesiastes, is what it looks like, in the words of James Alison, to "live as if death were not." This is what it looks like, in the words of William Stringfellow, "to live humanely in the Fall." This is what it looks like, in the words of Arthur McGill, to receive your identity as "gift" rather than as a possession you must protect and defend against others. This is what it looks like, in the words of Ernest Becker, to trade neurotic strivings for a "relaxedness" in the face of death.

In short, this is the vision of the person who as stepped away from idolatry, who has been exorcised of the spirituality of the principalities and powers. Non-anxious. Peaceful, internally and externally. Relaxed in the face of death. Not lured into crazy self-esteem projects. And thus non-rivalrous and non-violent. Joyful for the day and simple graces. Doing good work. Not too righteous, holding religion at a distance. But not undisciplined and foolish. A good friend. A good family member. Spending the day doing good.

Basically, following the example of the Great Exorcist himself:

Acts 10.38
Jesus went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil, because God was with him.