When a man thinks himself to be near death, fears and cares enter into his mind which he never had before; the tales of a world below and the punishment which is exacted there of deeds done here were once a laughing matter to him, but now he is tormented with the thought that they may be true: either from the weakness of age, or because he is now drawing nearer to that other place, he has a clearer view of these things; suspicions and alarms crowd thickly upon him, and he begins to reflect and consider what wrongs he has done to others. And when he finds that the sum of his transgressions is great he will many a time like a child start up in his sleep for fear, and he is filled with dark forebodings. But to him who is conscious of no sin, sweet hope, as Pindar charmingly says, is the kind nurse of his age. (Book I)
When I think of people I’ve approached concerning the Gospel message of Jesus, this comment by Cephalus to Socrates is so fitting, “deeds done here were once a laughing matter.” I recall when friends and acquaintances were driven to drink, or smoking hand-rolled leaves of strange grass, sometimes their talk in the quiet moments were as Cephalus supposedly said well over two millennia ago, “but now he is tormented with the thought that they may be true . . . he has a clearer view of these things; suspicions and alarms crowd thickly upon him, and he begins to reflect and consider what wrongs he has done to others.” Even today we have not much moved from what the song writer of the previous century quipped, “I swear there is no heaven and I pray there is no hell.”
Many people grow up in search of purpose and grasping vainly for meaning. The existential fad and a line from still another melancholy and cynical song says “Is that all there is?” The conclusion of the tune was that drink and dance were as good an occupation of their time as anything.
This is the realm of the Bible’s Ecclesiastes. Solomon said it himself,
I will prove thee with mirth, therefore enjoy pleasure: and, behold, this also is vanity. I said of laughter, It is mad: and of mirth, What doeth it? I sought in mine heart to give myself unto wine, yet acquainting mine heart with wisdom; and to lay hold on folly, till I might see what was that good for the sons of men, which they should do under the heaven all the days of their life. (Ecclesiastes 2:1–3, KJV)
As every student knows, and Solomon long ago himself noted, “and much study is a weariness of the flesh” so I will, as we say, ‘cut to the chase’:
Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good or whether it be evil. (Ecclesiastes 12:13–14)
Ah, but this is so archaic, so ‘old school’ and antiquated an answer. Solomon also had this right, “The words of the wise are as goads, and as nails” and therefore would agree with you. Still, read further of Solomon’s advice, which seems strangely close to answering Cephalus’ lament:
Truly the light is sweet,
and a pleasant thing it is
for the eyes to behold the sun:
But if a man live many years,
and rejoice in them all;
yet let him remember the days of darkness;
for they shall be many.
All that cometh is vanity.
Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth;
and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth,
and walk in the ways of thine heart,
and in the sight of thine eyes:
but know thou,
that for all these things
God will bring thee into judgment.
Therefore remove sorrow from thy heart,
and put away evil from thy flesh:
for childhood and youth are vanity.
Remember now thy Creator
in the days of thy youth,
while the evil days come not,
nor the years draw nigh,
when thou shalt say,
I have no pleasure in them
(Ecclesiastes 11:7–12:1)
In Plato’s story, Cephalus had described how “when he finds that the sum of his transgressions is great he will many a time like a child start up in his sleep for fear, and he is filled with dark forebodings.” Directly after this little speech Cephalus excused himself, he had to go tend to the sacrifices for his deity.
Our deity made a sacrifice for us. Sufficient for us all. We have the confidence that will allow those of us who dare to trust upon it, to sleep well when the pains and cares of life do not distract us. Cephalus concluded, “But to him who is conscious of no sin, sweet hope, as Pindar charmingly says, is the kind nurse of his age.”
This brings me to two questions, one small and one great. First, have the cynical among us reviewed the Scriptural treasures of Solomon in his moment of reflection on a good life gone bad? Ecclesiastes is quite telling, and compelling. I know it helped guide and sustain at least one cynical soul, which was me.
The most important of questions in light of this discussion may be, have you found the “sweet hope” that the ancient philosophers searched for? If Jesus has forgiven, and you have trusted that He has taken away your sin, then you have that “sweet hope” that Plato wrote of as he expressed a fear and yearning that has not disappeared from humanity in the intervening centuries. It is interesting how John phrased it:
But if we walk in the light,
as he is in the light,
we have fellowship one with another,
and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son
cleanseth us from all sin
(1 John 1:7)
That poetic cadence, the light metaphor in the context of following God’s will, it is almost as if the same Spirit that spoke into Solomon’s ear also spoke into John’s. Has it spoken into yours? There is hope, and it is sweet.
