Smoke, Mirrors, and Pilgrims

There’s a word in Hebrew—hevel. If you’re familiar with the book of Ecclesiastes, you’ve seen it translated as vanity, futile, meaningless, or vapor. Think of it like smoke: you can see it, even smell it, but try to catch it. Try to keep some in a bottle. It slips through your fingers—elusive and fleeting. There’s no substance to it, and it lasts only for a moment. So when the Preacher of Ecclesiastes declares, “Absolute futility. Everything is futile,” he’s drawing us into the sobering truth that life in this world under the sun may appear solid, but like smoke, it cannot be held.

Life isn’t only fleeting—it can also be deceiving. Not only is life under the sun full of smoke—it is often an illusion. Like a magician’s careful use of mirrors to make something appear or disappear, our world is filled with illusions of control and contentment. We’re promised these every election cycle by every politician who’s ever lived, well intentioned or not.

So, as pilgrims—like Christian in The Pilgrim’s Progress—we navigate a world of smoke and mirrors, trying to discern what is real, what is true, and what will last. And just when the haze feels thickest, every so often, a light shines through. The same Preacher also observes that “He [God] has made everything appropriate in its time.” Faith, then, isn’t necessarily about clearing the smoke or exposing the mirrors—it’s about learning to see God within them.

All of this helps me shape the way I see the world and even the way I speak. Those of you who know me best know that I have very few opinions. I’m known for saying things like “Sure,” “Sounds good,” “Fine with me,” “I don’t care,” or “Doesn’t matter.” That’s because I find it increasingly difficult to cling to too many strong opinions in a world so full of smoke and mirrors. I have far more questions than answers. But while I may not have many opinions, I do have plenty of observations—not arguments, but wonderings. I’m trying to learn to see things slowly.

If you’re a pilgrim like Christian and me, and if you sense with the Preacher that we live in a world of smoke and mirrors, I invite you to reflect and observe. I don’t live under the sun to clear the smoke—only to watch the light.