Ecclesiastes 7

 Ecclesiastes 7    

“We are magnificently impotent in matters of religion,” he began, “and reason.” This was last night.

He, Sol, is the product of divorce, a popular rabbi and a research biochemist that went very separate ways, she to teach in California, he to a new congregation in Miami.

    Sol stayed, to play piano with a jazz trio at home five nights a week in a little, little-known club in Brooklyn. His bassist, Bob, is Baha’i, the drummer, Blob, a born-again free-thinker. Sol keeps holding on to being a Jew as hard as he lets it go, so what kind of Jew he is now he can’t be certain - other than one with a mic. For occasionally during intermissions, he will take it up and start talking to whoever will listen about those things without thinking he’s been thinking about.

     For example, about what God can and, especially, can’t do: among other things, explain himself to us or help us understand each other.

Recently:

     “It’s his problem partly, God’s, for sure; but mostly it’s ours. (Even for God, it’s easier to shift responsibility. If you’re all-powerful, too, you can be all-shifting. But that’s for another time.)

     “We can pretend to wisdom and natter on about this and that, make up rules, and pretend they apply:

     “’A good name,’ we can say ‘is better than gold.’ ‘Listen to the wise man’s counsel, not the fool’s song.’ ‘Patience is a virtue; and anger leads to folly.’ ‘Wisdom, too, is like gold. Wealth and wisdom are a wall.’

     “Except, of course, when they’re not, or the wall’s a window or screen. A good name is better than gold, until there are debts to pay. It is better to listen to good advice than foolish singing, except when you really need music to soothe your savage beast. Patience is a virtue, except when something rash is required. Anger leads to folly, except when anger is what is needed to end folly.

     “Yes, we know, except when we don’t.

      “One thing for sure though: everything will work out in the end. Except what doesn’t.

“We can pretend to be righteous, but we are no more righteous than we are wise. I’m talking to you, my friends, on the right. (Applause? Is that - ‘right’ - short for ‘righteous’? Any of you out there?) That’s your blind spot, your self-righteousness.

     “You think you are right with God - and if you’re right with God, you must be right. But what if you’re not? Or, if you are, listen: there’s no claiming credit for it. You’re not right with God because of anything you’ve said or done.

     “On the other hand, my liberal friends . . . (Applause? I can't see. Six of you?) Your blind spot: you must be right because you’ve thought things through. But, hey, no credit to you either. It’s a gift, what you know (or think you do), it's not something you’ve actually worked for.

     “Think about it. . . Did you ever want to be uninquisitive?

“Both of you: No amount of righteousness or wisdom - religion or common sense - will avert disaster. We can’t escape either wickedness or stupidity, any of us. There’s no one on earth so righteous he or she does only good, never stumbles. There’s no one on earth so reasonable, he or she’s never going to do something foolish.

     “So what we do - or should, all of us: We do what we can, meanwhile not thinking too highly of ourselves - or our ilk. Practice not thinking about how good you are - how blessed - or how smart you are - how reasonable. Work hard, eat just too much and drink just too much, listen to music, dance naked with the one you love. Accept the good you get out of all of that. Joy in it.

“Speaking of music and dance, hey! Bob and Blob are on their way back up here. Guys! Let's hear it for them: Bob Blaine and Blob Baines. Wave at your adoring fans. Our next number is an arrangement they worked on together, a jazz version of the doo-wop classic, ‘Let’s Go to the Hop.’”

12.06.17