Translating this gave me joy, so I thought I'd share it with those who need a boost. If you have no use for joy, press the delete button, but be forewarned: you are deleting joy.

Harry

 

God wants us to enjoy ourselves

A. A. van Ruler

Be happy, young man, while you are young, and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth. Follow the ways of your heart and whatever your eyes see, but know that for all these things God will bring you to judgment.    Ecclesiastes 11:9

This verse speaks of the possibility of human joy and happiness. Joy is actually implanted in the whole of creation. The shining sun, the blooming flowers, the singing birds, the romping dogs – everything seems to be an expression of existence rejoicing in itself. All these things give the impression that it is true – part of reality itself – that being is good and that it is better than non-being.

When it comes to human beings, however, there’s a difference. Things are more passionate, more intense. This is because with us, there is also self-consciousness.

We don’t just rejoice, we also feel our rejoicing and have knowledge of it. I’m almost tempted to seek the uniqueness of human joy not just in this self-awareness but (in a manner of speaking) in its expression in deeds. For human beings, joy is not only a matter of being but also of doing. So we can also be admonished, called and urged to be joyful.

Once you begin to look for it, you’ll be surprised by how often the Bible speaks of joy. Joy seems to be what we’re destined for. It is for the joy of mankind that God performs his mighty deeds in Israel and in Christ.

We may even go a step further and say that God rejoices with us. He takes joy in our joy. Perhaps we may risk one step further and say that joy is the inner being of God, even more so than love.

The answer to the question what joy is all about is really not very hard to find. Our text points unambiguously to that which our eyes behold: joy is about the objective world before us. It was called into existence by God. It is his handiwork. It is good and it is beautiful. To behold this world is a cause for joy.

Each of us carries this awareness from the halcyon days of our youth. After we are born, gradually our eyes open. The eyes of a child are big and bright. They radiate enchantment. The whole world pours in through those big eyes.

We have all traveled a wondrous journey of discovery. We were like Alice in Wonderland, passing from one experience of wonder to another. Later in life, we often look back in longing to that time when the world was still wholly a new revelation to us.

But it isn’t just a matter of our eyes and of the world they behold. The Preacher also brings in the other pole – the way or inclinations of the heart. These come from inside. We must also be receptive to the goodness and beauty of the world and of life. We are not made happy in a purely objective way. We must also want to be happy. There is n’t just the eye; there is also the heart. Besides the world that we behold, there are also the inclinations of the heart that stir us. It isn’t just that the world enchants the heart. The obverse is also true: the heart enchants the world.

But isn’t all this far too sunny and optimistic? Is there really so much enchantment in the world for our eyes to see? Isn’t there also much that is repugnant and horrifying? Isn’t there an awful lot of misery? Doesn’t the world eventually make you tired and sad? Or should we say – with the Buddhists – that, though things are enchanting to see, it is terrible to be?

There is not a great deal to be said to counter such objections. If the heart is not willing, we will lose the world. But I have been deeply impressed by something Simone Weil said. During the war she suffered immeasurably, but she said, "One of the most important ways for us to God is through the beauty of the world."

Such an assertion is, of course, a faith choice . It derives from Israel, and Simone Weil had Jewish roots. But it is also possible that inwardly this faith choice springs from the very nature of the matter, clearly and self-evidently. For don’t we all feel the truth of the assertion that being is better than non-being? Can a person genuinely wish that he’d never even existed?

The Preacher has no doubts on this score. He sees the darkness in existence very clearly, but he clings to the fact that reality is real and that it is an inexhaustible source of enchantment. What the heart desires and what the eye sees is – reality! And it is good and beautiful. We can rejoice in it.

However, the Preacher encounters another problem. He urges the young to be happy. That’s the time to enjoy yourself – in your youth. Later on it gets trickier. Life becomes more serious, and often more burdensome. It is precisely the seriousness of life (among other things) that makes it more burdensome. We become overly familiar with what our eyes behold, and sometimes it seems as if we become bored by it all. The world becomes less of a revelation, and we lose our sense of wonder. We become increasingly businesslike. Our hearts grow dim. The fire goes out of our lifelust for the world.

All of this is also part of becoming mature and older. To really rejoice in the world demands a certain amount of energy; in fact, it demands a great deal of energy to remain enthusiastic about things. The batteries of your heart need to be fully charged for us to have a zeal for life. And it seems as though that battery gradually runs down.

But the Preacher isn’t talking about how we ought to approach maturity and age; he is only making observations. He notes that youth is the best time to fully drink in and enjoy created reality. It is a time when we still have the energy to enjoy it fully.

It is true that youth also has its problems. Children can be sad. And then there are the teenage years with their Weltschmerz (alienation). But the wonder of it is that the heart does break through it all, and once again the world returns to us in all its allure. We must take advantage of that time. Those who are young should be young: they must rejoice and be happy. They must follow the ways of their hearts. They must also follow what the eyes behold.

Why is this so important that the Preacher emphasizes it as he does? We might say, Well, because the time is short, and before you know it, it is past. We might also say, Well, because this is what we’re destined for – for the happiness of youth: we carry it with us as a precious gift to the time of our death, even if only as a memory and yearning.

Our text, however, contains yet another motive: one day God will bring us to judgment for all these things.

The exegetes have very different opinions about how to translate the beginning of this clause. Should we read it to say, "...but know...," or should we read it "...for know that for all these things God will bring you to judgment"? In my opinion, it really doesn’t make a huge difference. In either case, it means that our Creator is deeply interested in whether and how in time we savor the reality he has created for us.

If we translate "...but know...," the emphasis falls on enjoying the world in the right way, that is, in harmony with God’s will and not in any old way. If we translate "..for know...," the emphasis falls above all on the fact that no matter what, the world is there to be enjoyed because this is how we truly praise our Creator.

We must add, I think, that the gospel completes the Preacher’s reflections. The Preacher tells us to enjoy God’s creation in the days of our youth. The gospel says we must be healed of our old age and we must become as children. Remember, there is the resurrection of the dead and Christ’s victory over death.

Conversion and rebirth mean that we take a stance in life that crawls through all suffering and darkness to return to creation itself. We are liberated from evil – in all its forms. We are liberated from sin, from death and from meaninglessness. In the end, we are left with liberated being, and this can only bring us joy. So even more than in the Old, in the New Testament the word "joy" sets the fundamental tone .