AGAIN I LOOKED and saw all the oppression that was taking place under the sun:
I saw the tears of the oppressed—
and they have no comforter;
power was on the side of their oppressors—
and they have no comforter.
2And I declared that the dead,
who had already died,
are happier than the living,
who are still alive.
3But better than both
is he who has not yet been,
who has not seen the evil
that is done under the sun.
4And I saw that all labor and all achievement spring from man’s envy of his neighbor. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
5The fool folds his hands
and ruins himself.
6Better one handful with tranquillity
than two handfuls with toil
and chasing after the wind.
7Again I saw something meaningless under the sun:
8There was a man all alone;
he had neither son nor brother.
There was no end to his toil,
yet his eyes were not content with his wealth.
“For whom am I toiling,” he asked,
“and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?”
This too is meaningless—
a miserable business!
9Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their work:
10If one falls down,
his friend can help him up.
and has no one to help him up!
11Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
12Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
13Better a poor but wise youth than an old but foolish king who no longer knows how to take warning. 14The youth may have come from prison to the kingship, or he may have been born in poverty within his kingdom. 15I saw that all who lived and walked under the sun followed the youth, the king’s successor. 16There was no end to all the people who were before them. But those who came later were not pleased with the successor. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
Original Meaning
IN THE SAME way that 3:16–17 and 3:18–22 pick up and develop themes from earlier in the book, so too 4:1–3 is related by theme to 3:16–17. The focus of attention is still the wickedness that exists “under the sun” (3:16; 4:1), now specified as “oppression” (from the Heb. root ʿšq, which appears three times in 4:1 to give emphasis to its reality; cf. the repetition of “wickedness” in 3:16). The world, as a place of striving after “gain,” is a place of tears and of disproportionate power, in which many are ground down and “have no comforter” (also repeated for emphasis).
In the Bible, oppression involves cheating one’s neighbor of something (Lev. 6:2–5 associates it with expropriation, stealing, retaining lost property that has been found, and swearing falsely), defrauding him, and robbing him. It involves making an unjust gain, including the profit made from interest on loans (e.g., Ezek. 22:1–29, esp. vv. 12, 29). It is the abuse of power, financial and otherwise, perpetrated on those who are not so powerful and are indeed vulnerable—the poor, widows, orphans, and strangers (e.g., Ezek. 22:7, 29; Amos 4:1; Mic. 2:1–2). Thus it is often associated with violence and bloodshed in the Old Testament and with the denial of rights and justice (e.g., Jer. 22:17; Ezek. 22:6–7, 12, 29; cf. also Prov. 1:10–19).
Oppression is accumulation—the seeking after profit—without regard to the nature, needs, and rights of other people. There is a fierce insistence in the Old Testament that people should not thus oppress each other. Note, for example:
Leviticus 19:13: Do not defraud your neighbor or rob him. Do not hold back the wages of a hired man overnight.
Deuteronomy 24:14–15: Do not take advantage of a hired man who is poor and needy, whether he is a brother Israelite or an alien living in one of your towns. Pay him his wages each day before sunset, because he is poor and is counting on it.
Zechariah 7:10: Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the alien or the poor.
Proverbs 14:31: He who oppresses the poor shows contempt for their Maker, but whoever is kind to the needy honors God.
Power, economic or otherwise, is not to be abused; people, whether less powerful than we or not, are not to be treated as objects out of which profit can be squeezed, but as human beings made by the same God who created us all. This includes our employees.
Human beings as we find them “under the sun” are, however, in rebellion against God and thus generally careless of the neighbor, as Qohelet sees all too clearly. They are out for “gain,” and in their desperate attempts to climb the ladder of success they will happily kick and trample on the heads of those beneath them. This is simply the way the world is (cf. 5:8–9, with its injunction that we should not be surprised by it).
The world is, therefore, a miserable place for many people, who live without anyone to comfort them with the real prospect of change in their circumstances (cf. Ps. 23:4; 86:17, for the understanding of “comfort” not simply as empty words, but as carrying with it the promise of help and protection, and thus real comfort). They have been deprived even of the most modest means out of which to live their lives. In such a situation, Qohelet suggests, the dead are to be commended over the living (better than NIV’s “happier than the living,” which can be taken to imply a subjective state; cf. the more appropriate translation in Eccl. 8:15). They are to be congratulated in at least attaining rest.
More fortunate than both the living and the dead, however, are those who have never even seen what Qohelet has seen (cf. 4:1, 3) because they have not yet been born. It is a sorry sight (Heb. raʿ, “evil,” probably refers as much if not more to its misery as to the wickedness that produced it, cf. comments on 1:13 and the footnote there, as well as 4:8). They are blessed who have not yet looked on it.
The fuel that feeds the fires of this human striving after gain is now for the first time in Ecclesiastes identified (vv. 4–6): “All labor and all achievement [or better, ‘all toil and success [kišron]’; cf. kšr in 11:6, ‘you do not know which will succeed’] spring from man’s envy of his neighbor.” It is envy that drives us on in the mad rush after “gain.” Notice 10:10, where there is a close connection between yitron and kšr, and 5:11, where kišron refers to a “gain” that is not truly a gain. It is the suspicion or realization that others are gaining more from life than we are that leads us on to compete with them in the insane rat race, striving to outdo them.
It is not by accident that the “neighbor” (reaʿ ) is mentioned in 4:4 as an object of envy, in the aftermath of the observations on oppression in 4:1–3 reminding us of various biblical injunctions about how we should correctly view and treat our neighbor (cf. reaʿ in Lev. 19:13, 18). In pursuing out of envy the neighbor above us on the ladder, we inevitably step on the head of the neighbor below us. As disastrous as this is for the people who are trampled on, it is also futile for the person who is upwardly mobile at their expense. It is pointless, “a chasing after the wind” (Eccl. 4:4). It is true, on the one hand, that “the fool folds his hands and ruins himself” (lit., “embraces his hands and eats his own flesh,” v. 5). The foolish person keeps his hands to himself rather than embrace work and the fruits of his labor that follow on from work (see comments on 3:5; also Prov. 6:10–11; 24:33). Consequently he has nothing to eat but himself! On the other hand, that is no reason to go to the opposite extreme, toiling and chasing after the wind (v. 6). “Two handfuls” are not better than none if they are gained at the expense of “tranquillity” (naḥat) or “peace of mind” (NEB), for the lack of tranquillity or contentment is also something that marks out the fool (cf. Prov. 29:9, where naḥat is contrasted with a striving marked by rage and mockery). The personal costs of giving up on contentment and capitulating to envy and oppression are well captured in a number of verses:
Ecclesiastes 7:7: Extortion [ʿšq] turns a wise man into a fool, and a bribe corrupts the heart.
Proverbs 22:16: He who oppresses [ʿšq] the poor to increase his wealth and he who gives gifts to the rich—both come to poverty.
Proverbs 14:30: A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.
Life for the body (Heb. baśar in Prov. 14:30) is no more achieved through grasping with both hands than through folding them (which actually results in self-destruction, 4:5—lit., the “eating of the flesh [baśar]”). The single handful symbolizes the way ahead.
The foregoing material has made it clear that the life of striving is fundamentally anti-neighbor. The point of life, when viewed from this perspective, is to get ahead of one’s neighbors rather than to participate in community with them—just as, earlier in the book, it was to “get ahead” of creation as a whole rather than to live in harmony with it. It is not surprising, then, that in 4:7–12 we find material that first focuses on the loneliness of the striving individual and then moves on to offer a stirring and uplifting commendation of community.
Verses 7–8 paint the picture of a person “all alone” (lit., “having no second person”), without “son or brother” to inherit his wealth. This is a driven person, toiling endlessly with his eyes fixed resolutely on some unspecified, yet all-absorbing goal: “His eyes were not content with his wealth.” It is a futile and miserable way in which to live (v. 8; cf. ʿinyan raʿ, “miserable [evil] business,” also in 1:13; note also 2:23, 26; 3:10), because toil in pursuit of more wealth prohibits the person from “enjoyment” of life (lit., “the good,” ṭoba, 4:8).
An alternative vision of the world involves at its heart the notion of community (vv. 9–12). In the world of the self-centered achiever there is only one person “all alone” (ʾeḥad weʾen šeni; lit., “one and not a second,” v. 8), and that one person knows only toil (ʿamal) in place of “the good” (ṭoba). His individual life is futile, and it brings great pain and misery to others. In this alternative world, however, “Two are better than one” (ṭobim haššenayim min-haʾeḥad), and both have a “good return for their work” (śakar ṭob baʿ amalam).
The language of verse 8 is consciously picked up in verse 9 in order to underline the difference between the two approaches to life and their consequences. Cooperation leads on to a rewarding life, both for the individual and for the neighbor (cf. śakar in this nonmonetary sense also in Ps. 127:3, where there is also an emphasis on the futility of human activity when out of harmony with God’s ways). There may be pitfalls that confront the two of them as they journey (v. 10), but at least the troubles will be faced together and help will be available. There will be cold and dark nights as the travels progress (v. 11), but at least there will be the warmth that another’s presence brings. There may be enemies lying in wait on the path (v. 12), but at least the battles will be fought alongside another and not alone.
The solitary traveler may get to the end of the journey faster, and indeed he may gain riches along the way as he leaves the weak and the slow behind him and is not required to share what he finds. However, he will also know pits out of which he must dig himself, unrelentingly cold nights, and lonely battles. He will in the end see no profit from it all, for the gain we make from our toil is found in the toil itself, completed in the context of our whole lives lived out before God and in the company of others to whom we are intrinsically and healthily connected as creatures of God. In community our lives are strong and enduring, like the rope “of three strands.” The fool’s individualistic life is, by contrast, weak and destined to be “broken.”
The closing verses of chapter 4 (vv. 13–16), although their precise relationship with what precedes them has puzzled many commentators, seem clearly connected with what precedes by theme and by language (notice the common reference to what is “better” in vv. 6, 9, and 13; the reference to the “second person” [šeni] in vv. 8 and 15, unfortunately obscured by the NIV; and the occurrence of “there was no end to all” [ʾen qeṣ lekol] in vv. 8 and 16). The king, as we have seen in 1:12–2:26, is the person who above all might be expected to “gain from toil” in Israel, and who might equally be expected to be a major source of oppression (cf. 1 Sam. 8:10–18). He represents the pinnacle of human success and the lifestyle to which many aspire. It is not surprising that in the course of reflections on the solitary yet unhappy and futile life we should return to consider once again the figure of the king.
The crucial matter of interpretation relates to the identity of the youth in verse 15, where the NIV translates “the youth, the king’s successor,” compressing and interpreting a Hebrew phrase that literally reads, “the youth, the second one who stood in his place.” The view is thus taken that there is only one youth in verses 13–15 and that “second” refers only to his coming after and succeeding the king. It seems a more natural reading, however, to understand “he may have come from prison” in verse 14 (NIV’s “the youth” is an interpretation not a translation) as referring to the king: The king himself had once been a poor but wise youth, and (a better translation) “came out from prison to rule even though in his future kingdom he was born poor.”
A second youth from humble origins then supplanted the aged king, who in his (implicitly wealthy) dotage had become a self-absorbed fool living in a world of his own, unable to take advice or warning. Yet kingship for this youth himself did not turn out happily. “There was no end to all the people” deliberately recalls 4:8 with its complaint that “there was no end to [all] his toil,” suggesting that the phrase does not refer so much to popular support for the king (as commentators have often assumed) as to the burden of royal office. That is, kingship is “toil,” not least because of the sheer number of the royal subjects (cf. 1 Kings 3:8–9). The people before whom he stood (rather than the NIV’s “the people who were before them”) were too numerous.
What is more, there was no joy among later generations when this king came to mind (cf. Eccl. 1:11; also the similar fate of the poor wise man in 9:13–18). All in all, kingship is a thankless task—toil and trouble on the one hand, and a lack of appreciation on the other (cf. 2:12–26). The following translation results from this understanding of the Hebrew:
Better a poor but wise youth than an old but foolish king who no longer knows how to take warning. For he [the old king] himself came out from prison to rule, even though in his [future] kingdom he was born poor. I saw that all who lived and walked under the sun were with the second youth who stood in place of him. There was no end to all the people, to all those whom he was before; and those who came later did not rejoice in him. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
In the real world of the ancient Near East the succession of one humbly born king by another would have been unlikely. It is not the real world of kings that is in view here, however, but the real world of human advancement and achievement in general. Qohelet’s concern is to show that poverty with wisdom is better than advancement with folly, just as it is better to have one handful with tranquillity than two handfuls with toil (v. 6) and just as two are better than one (v. 9). Advancement all too often brings with it the loss of the self, as people lose touch with where they have come from (vv. 13–14). It brings with it even greater toil than before, but no greater thanks (vv. 15–16).
Bridging Contexts
THE BIBLE HAS not been given to us to satisfy our curiosity but to shape our lives in a particular way in response to God. It is worth restating this rather obvious fact as we move from consideration of the “times” in chapter 3 to reflect on oppression and injustice in the world in chapter 4, for the religious culture we inhabit seems often to have forgotten it.
Comprehension of the times is beyond us, insists Qohelet, and Jesus agrees (e.g., Matt. 24:36–44). Yet significant numbers of modern Christians seem to regard the Bible mainly as a source of inside knowledge about the divine timetable for the universe, and they are much more interested in speculating about the future than about living faithfully in the present. They represent the mirror image of many secular academic students of the Bible (and not a few Christian ones, too), who understand the usefulness of the Bible, and especially the Old Testament, mainly in terms of a resource for their speculations about the past rather than as the Word of God that commands obedience in the present.
Attempts to control “the times” take many different forms. Abuse of the Bible itself in pursuit of this goal is common. When the Bible speaks about past or future, however, it does so not for our titillation or in the hope of advancing our academic careers but with a view to producing righteous living in the present:
Matthew 24:45: Who then is the faithful and wise servant . . . ?
1 Corinthians 10:6–7: Now these things occurred as examples to keep us from setting our hearts on evil things as they did. Do not be idolaters, as some of them were; as it is written: “The people sat down to eat and drink and got up to indulge in pagan revelry.”
The Bible is resolutely focused on the now, even as it tells us enough about the past and the future to encourage us and challenge us about this now. An overwhelming aspect of the reality of the now, as Qohelet tells us, is that the world is a place of oppression and unjust gain. Other biblical texts agree. The foundational section of Scripture here is Genesis 1–11. God created human beings to live in harmonious community with himself and with each other; but the human desire to be gods disrupted that community, not just on the divine-human axis, but also on the human—human and human—rest of creation axes. Alienation is the new reality, seen especially in the relationship of Adam and Eve, then later in the relationship of Cain and Abel.
As Genesis 1–11 moves on, the alienation progresses even further outward from the center of the circle. As brother has been divided from brother, so neighbor is divided from neighbor (4:23–24). From that point on, community slides into complete chaos and anarchy, as violence fills the earth (6:11–13). Much of the point of Genesis 4 seems to be that even humankind’s many achievements of culture (4:17–22) in its “knowledgeable adulthood” cannot disguise this slow but remorseless breakdown of community. Sophistication and technological expertise increase; but as they do so, community breaks down by stages until the alienation between God and humans, humans and humans, and eventually humans and the created order is complete. Sophistication and barbarism are perfectly compatible playmates.
One aspect of this alienation, as the rest of the Bible makes clear, is economic in nature. This is already hinted at in Genesis 5:28–31. Lamech’s apparent interest, perhaps like Cain in chapter 4, is in avoiding the implications of the cursing of the ground in Genesis 3. He welcomes his new son Noah, therefore, not so much as son, but more as a worker who will release him from the toil imposed on all Adam’s descendants (5:29). There is the suggestion in this of a grasping after divinity, since Lamech portrays Noah as having come “out of [NIV ‘by’] the ground,” alluding to the creation narrative in chapter 2 (2:7, 9 “the LORD God formed the man from the dust of the ground . . . the LORD God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground”). Lamech’s apparent intention is to sit back and take life easy, enjoying the fruits of Noah’s labor while contributing nothing of his own efforts to production.
We are reminded of that general alienation between human beings and the fruits of their labor that Karl Marx so eloquently expounded on, whose own vision of society itself had its roots in the Judeo-Christian tradition and was shaped by it. From a biblical point of view, as well as from a Marxist point of view, Lamech’s hope of redemption from toil is not at all realistic or to be commended. Only a few verses further on, indeed, we find the story of the Flood, where the same Hebrew root nḥm, which means “give comfort” in 5:29, reappears of God’s being “sorry” that he had made human beings at all (6:6).
It is a poorly based and futile hope that Lamech expresses. Noah is, however, a sign of hope, notwithstanding Lamech’s misstatement of the hope. Redemption for humankind comes through Lamech’s son, even though it is not the kind of redemption he (or for that matter the Marxist) anticipates—that is, a redemption leading on to an earthly utopia. Redemption turns out to be the rescue of a remnant of human beings in the midst of a deluge of divine judgment.
The creation vision that places God at the center of the universe and human beings, when behaving rightly, in community together and living in harmony with the rest of creation continues to underpin the rest of the biblical story. This is why the Bible generally sets itself against any kind of political and economic hierarchy that rewards the powerful and the wealthy and sets them apart from the powerless and the poor. The biblical vision of society is resolutely one of community and common resources, not one of individual profit and upward mobility in which the elite enjoy the results of everyone else’s work or even enjoy without a further thought the results of their own.
Israel is called out of Egypt to model for the world the way in which a righteous community should function. It is a community in which tribes and families hold property that cannot accumulate in the long term in the hands of others, and indeed which is to be viewed at all times as belonging to God and held only in trust (e.g., Lev. 25, esp. v. 23). The community must always allow access to its shared resources by those who need them, whether they are the poor and marginalized within the community or immigrants from outside it (e.g., Ex. 23:9–11; Lev. 19:9–10, 33–34; 23:22; Deut. 10:18–19; 15:1–11; 24:14–22; Ruth 2). The law places severe constraints on such things as lending money at interest, allowing the taking of interest only from non-Israelites (Ex. 22:25–27; Lev. 25:35–38; Deut. 23:19–20; Neh. 5:6–11); even in the case of loans to non-Israelites, the law forbids extortion and encourages generosity (Ex. 23:9; Lev. 19:33–34). When God’s people cry out for a king, they are reminded of the economic consequences of the elevation of another human being to such a position of power (1 Sam. 8:11–17). The prophets regularly inveigh against Israel’s economic sins as well as others, making clear that love of neighbor involves taking economic issues as seriously as any other kinds. No religion is acceptable to God that does not have at its heart questions of social justice in respect of the wider human community (e.g., Isa. 1:10–17; Amos 4:1–3; 5:11–12, 21–24).
It is no different (nor should we expect it to be) with God’s people in the New Testament, who are also called to model the righteous community for the world. The socioeconomic organization of the early church, which recognizes that it stands in continuity with Israel, has its roots in the Old Testament. This is a body that shares everything in common (Acts 2:42, 44), ensuring that no one is in need (4:34), and that aims for economic and social equality (2 Cor. 8:13–15; James 2:1–7). The New Testament, like the Old Testament, recognizes economic repentance as intrinsic to the whole business of repentance (Luke 19:1–10), as it insists in general that the truly religious life is also the truly socially righteous life (e.g., Matt. 5:23–24). The only true test of our sincerity in respect of God is the level of our commitment to our neighbors (1 John 4:19–21). Christianity is, as much as its sibling Judaism, a way of life, not simply a set of doctrines.
All this represents the background against which the Christian reader must hear Ecclesiastes 4. Commentators have criticized Qohelet for resting content with his description of injustice and failing to propose action to put things right. This is a foolish criticism, which arises from the widespread modern conviction that it is somehow possible to “put things right” in this world in a general way. Historical experience tends to suggest, however, that although it may be possible to moderate the worst effects of societal evil and even replace evil with good in limited ways, the best-intentioned attempts to do so will be tainted by still further evils often unintended by the good and idealistic people involved in the projects. There are, at worst, spectacular examples from recent human history of groups of people who were utterly convinced of their ability to change the world for the better but whose ideas, when put into practice, resulted in widespread human misery.1 Moreover, it is simply a fact that individuals usually have little power to change society at large, and their immediate need is to see the world clearly and to form some idea of how to negotiate it well. It is this latter, facilitating task that Qohelet sets for himself, lighting up the path ahead of the individual who wishes to dance to a different tune than the one often played by the world’s pipers.
This is no less noble or important a task than the one carried through by the prophets, who for all their assaults on the human misery that they saw before them were never so naïve as to assume that utopia is humanly achievable. Jesus himself told his disciples that the poor would always be with them (Matt. 26:11) in the world, and he himself laid great emphasis on individual transformation as the heart of a societal transformation that would certainly not occur in the near future (e.g., 5:13–16). The prophets provide the larger canvas on which Qohelet paints his picture, but the picture is no less important for the fact that the canvas is its context. Both Jesus and the prophets agree: In the end it is God who must “put things right” (cf. Eccl. 3:16–17). In the meantime the person sickened by oppression and injustice should follow the countercultural pathway sketched by Qohelet: hard work carried out for and in community rather than envy-driven, self-centered, and lonely toil, along with the striving for empty advancement.
Contemporary Significance
Sally: “Wake up, big brother.”
Charlie Brown: “Wake up?! Wake up?! Why are you waking me up?”
Sally: “I thought you might like to get an early start.”
Charlie Brown: “For what? I’m not going anywhere . . .”
Sally: “That’s too bad . . . you could have been the first one there.”2
I have been told that the noun used for a non-African white person in one of the African languages is “person who endlessly rushes around to no apparent purpose.” This would be amusing if it were not for the fact that this insane desire to “be the first one there” is so personally and communally destructive, both nearer to home and globally. A contrast is provided by an increasingly popular soccer program in Europe that sets high standards of excellence but will not allow individuals to advance to the next stage of the program until the whole team is ready to advance. The community as a whole goes forward, or no one does.
Everything depends, of course, on what our goals are. Where are we going? Much of our Western culture answers this question individualistically rather than communally, whether in secular terms (I’m headed for the fulfillment of my dreams) or in religious terms (I’m headed for heaven). The two sets of goals are in practice often perceived to be perfectly compatible, allowing significant participation in “The American Dream” while still keeping alive the hope of an eternal welcome.
The Bible will have none of this. God’s Word does, of course, teach us that individual human beings are precious to God, and it is from this wellspring that our modern individualism arises. Yet the Bible does not understand this preciousness as somehow residing within the human frame itself, which is simply “dust” or “grass,” but only in the relatedness of the human being to God, who made him or her and bestowed his “image” (Gen. 1:27). The individual-in-relation-to-God is at the same time inseparable, biblically, from all those other individuals who as creatures are also in relation to God. This is why, biblically, it is impossible to drive a wedge between being in a right relationship to God and being in a right relationship to our neighbors (and indeed to creation generally); the one involves the other.
The secular individualism that is often apparent in modern culture, which has everything to do with self-sufficiency and self-fulfillment and little to do with worship of God and social responsibility, has nothing in the end to do with the Bible. Even the religious individualism that lays great emphasis on a person’s relationship with God but little emphasis on a person’s social, economic, political, and religious relationships with other people, has little in the end to do with the Bible. The Bible is about persons-in-community, whether in the Godhead of Father, Son, and Spirit, or in the church, or in the world at large. The proper goal of the Christian is not an individualistic heaven but is to be found in right relationship with God, neighbor, and God’s world now and in the future, which will include by God’s grace a future stretching beyond death.
With this in mind—and remembering that Jesus himself taught us that our neighbor is whoever is in need of our help, even if it is our enemy (e.g., Matt. 5:43–48; Luke 10:25–37)—Christian readers need to respond to Qohelet’s graphic description of the world as it is, and to his advocacy of a different way, with some serious commitments. The first is to root out from our hearts all the destructive and sinful thoughts that lead us to pursue a selfish and individualistic path through life. Envy, which Qohelet mentions in 4:4, is certainly one of these; this vice is also highlighted in the New Testament (e.g., Mark 7:22; Rom. 1:29; 1 Cor. 13:4; Gal. 5:21; Titus 3:3). Excessive desire for our own advancement is another (Eccl. 4:13–16), and Christians are explicitly told not to set out on this road but to aim at servanthood (e.g., Mark 10:35–45).
Another sin to root out of our hearts is the refusal to accept that all other human beings do indeed have a stake in the world (in Heb., a ḥeleq or “portion”), which leads, for complex but often abominable reasons (e.g., greed, government policies framed “in the national interest”), to the turning of a blind eye to the reality that we have much more than others do. We also refuse to accept that many of these others have indeed been deprived even of the most basic means out of which to live their lives.
Along with our rooting out of these bad attitudes, and along with them the implicit belief that my family or my nation has some inherent right to more of the world’s resources than others do, must come a commitment to do as much as we can to contribute to community and to alleviate the suffering of the world. It is impossible to be a follower of Jesus and simply observe “the tears of the oppressed” who “have no comforter” (Eccl. 4:1), nor is it acceptable simply to offer empty words. The contribution of our own lifestyle choices to their plight—in a world where the Market (or in traditional biblical terms, Mammon) dominates the agenda rather than human interests—is a factor here. There must also naturally be practical comfort in loving actions—such as caring for the widows and orphans, the immigrants and the poor—of which the whole Bible speaks. We do this for others—but at the same time we do it for ourselves, for what is good for others is also good for us. The life of selfish individualism leads neither to happiness nor to eternal life. The race run according to these rules leads only to the reality captured by a British movie of several decades ago: The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner.
One final comment is in order here. There is a truly depressing tendency, especially when matters like these are discussed among Christians in North America, to allow easy dichotomies to arise between allegedly leftist and allegedly rightist points of view on such issues as economic responsibility. This is only slightly less depressing than a more general tendency for Christians actually to identify themselves as conservatives or liberals, as if the label Christian were a secondary religious tag hung around the neck of what is essentially a political animal. Christians should have no other primary commitments than to love God and their neighbors and to look after God’s world.
That task of love is far more complex than can ever be captured in a political ideology. The first question to be asked is not whether an idea is conservative or liberal (so what?) but whether it is orthodox and biblical. The Bible constantly strikes balances in order to catch the whole truth; political ideologies characteristically simplify and thus distort. Thus, for example, Qohelet both urges the virtue of hard work (in common with other parts of the Bible, e.g., Eph. 4:28; 1 Thess. 4:11) and yet draws our attention to the misery in the world and advocates community. Ideologues on the right have been known to use the first kind of text to justify inactivity in respect of the poor and oppressed, and ideologues on the left have been known to use the second kind of text to urge social reform that does not take individual sinfulness sufficiently seriously. The Bible presses a more complex world upon us and urges a more sensitive response. Truly loving one’s neighbor (rather than simply being kind and polite) is always a challenge, yet it is the challenge that is set before us as we pursue a life of contentment-in-community, in which we do not “eat, drink, and enjoy” selfishly, but openheartedly.
Then [Jesus] said to them, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”
And he told them this parable: “The ground of a certain rich man produced a good crop. He thought to himself, ‘What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.’
“Then he said, ‘This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.” ’
“But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’
“This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich toward God.” (Luke 12:15–21)