The Beautiful Arbitrariness of God Text: Ecclesiastes 9:11-12
Introduction: The Rigged Race
We live in a world that worships at the altar of human capacity. Our stories, our movies, our myths are all built on a single, predictable premise: the swift win the race, the strong win the battle, and the smart get the prize. We tell our children to work hard, to be the best, to rely on their own strength and wit, and the world will be their oyster. We believe in cause and effect, in predictable outcomes, in a universe that rewards merit. And the Preacher in Ecclesiastes looks at this entire enterprise, this grand human project of self-reliance, and with a weary sigh, tells us that the whole thing is a sham. The race is fixed.
The world we see "under the sun" does not operate according to the neat and tidy rules we invent for it. It appears to be a place of maddening randomness. The fastest runner trips on a stray root just before the finish line. The mighty army is undone by a sudden storm or a freak pestilence. The wise man starves while the fool inherits a fortune. From our limited vantage point, life looks like a cruel joke, a lottery where the tickets are distributed without rhyme or reason. This is what the Preacher calls "vanity." It is not a declaration of philosophical nihilism, as though nothing matters. Rather, it is the observation that from our perspective, life is a chasing after the wind. You cannot predict it, you cannot control it, and you cannot master it.
This passage is a direct assault on the pride of man. It is a bucket of cold water thrown on the face of every humanist, every self-made man, every individual who believes he is the captain of his own soul. The Preacher is systematically dismantling our idols of strength, speed, wisdom, and knowledge. He is showing us that these things are no guarantee of success. Why? Because there is another factor in the equation, a variable that we cannot account for on our own terms: "time and misfortune." But as we will see, what appears to be random chance and arbitrary misfortune from "under the sun" is, from God's heavenly perspective, the meticulous and sovereign orchestration of all things.
The Text
I again saw under the sun that the race is not to the swift and the battle is not to the mighty, and neither is bread to the wise nor riches to the discerning nor favor to men who know; for time and misfortune overtake them all. Moreover, man does not know his time: like fish seized in an evil net and birds seized in a trap, so the sons of men are ensnared at an evil time when it suddenly falls on them.
(Ecclesiastes 9:11-12 LSB)
The Great Reversal (v. 11)
The Preacher begins with a series of observations that turn our worldly expectations upside down.
"I again saw under the sun that the race is not to the swift and the battle is not to the mighty, and neither is bread to the wise nor riches to the discerning nor favor to men who know; for time and misfortune overtake them all." (Ecclesiastes 9:11)
He says he "again saw" this. This is not a new or startling revelation to him; it is a settled conclusion based on repeated observation of the world. And what does he see? He sees that the universe does not run on the merit system we assume it does. The fastest runner does not always win. The strongest army does not always prevail. Think of Goliath and David. Think of Gideon's three hundred against the Midianite horde. The Bible is filled with stories that illustrate this very point. God delights in taking the weak things of the world to shame the strong.
The same principle applies in the intellectual and social realms. Bread, the basic provision of life, is not guaranteed to the wise. Riches are not guaranteed to the discerning. Favor is not guaranteed to the man of skill and knowledge. We all know this to be true. We have seen brilliant men end in poverty and fools stumble into wealth. We have seen talented and knowledgeable people overlooked while the incompetent are promoted. The world is not a fair place, if by "fair" we mean that it rewards human talent and effort in a predictable, one-to-one ratio.
The reason for this is given at the end of the verse: "for time and misfortune overtake them all." The Hebrew here is "eth" (time) and "pega" (chance, or an occurrence). This is the great equalizer. It does not matter how fast you are; you can't outrun your appointed time. It does not matter how strong you are; you cannot fight off a sudden, unforeseen calamity. All human abilities are rendered moot by the sovereign intersection of God's timing and His decreed circumstances. What looks to us like "misfortune" or "chance" is, in the biblical worldview, divine providence. It is God's hand, unseen and often inscrutable, arranging all events according to the counsel of His will (Ephesians 1:11).
This is profoundly humbling. It forces us to confess that we are not in control. Our best-laid plans, our most impressive skills, our most diligent efforts can all be undone in a moment by a factor entirely outside of our power. This is not meant to drive us to despair, but to drive us to dependence. The man who trusts in his own speed will eventually be overtaken. The man who trusts in the Lord will find that even in the midst of "misfortune," he is held fast by a sovereign and loving God.
The Unseen Snare (v. 12)
The Preacher then illustrates this point with two powerful and sobering images.
"Moreover, man does not know his time: like fish seized in an evil net and birds seized in a trap, so the sons of men are ensnared at an evil time when it suddenly falls on them." (Ecclesiastes 9:12 LSB)
The fundamental problem is not just that we are subject to time and chance, but that we are ignorant of it. "Man does not know his time." We do not know the day of our death. We do not know when calamity will strike. We walk through life with a blindfold on, utterly unaware of what the next moment holds. This is a mercy, but it is also a call to humility. We make our plans for next week, next year, for our retirement, as though we hold the lease on our own lives. But James reminds us, "You do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away" (James 4:14).
The imagery here is stark. We are like fish, swimming contentedly, unaware of the net that is closing in. We are like birds, happily feeding, oblivious to the snare that is about to spring shut. The key words are "seized" and "suddenly." The disaster is not something that announces itself. It does not send a warning. It falls upon men unexpectedly, at an "evil time," a time of trouble and distress.
From the perspective of the fish or the bird, the event is a meaningless, cruel tragedy. It is arbitrary. It is evil. And from our perspective "under the sun," many of the calamities that befall men seem just that way. A sudden diagnosis. A car accident. A financial collapse. These things feel like an evil net, a cruel trap that has sprung out of nowhere.
But we must remember who is speaking. The Preacher is describing the world as it appears to finite, earth-bound man. But the Christian knows that there is a fisherman. There is a fowler. Nothing happens apart from the will of our Father. Not a sparrow falls to the ground apart from His will (Matthew 10:29). And if He is sovereign over the sparrows, is He not also sovereign over the snares that catch them? The net that seems evil to the fish is held in the hand of the one who owns the whole pond. This does not make the experience less painful for us, but it infuses it with meaning. The trap is not random. The net is not arbitrary. It is part of a larger purpose that we cannot see, a purpose that is being worked out by a God who is both completely sovereign and perfectly good.
Living in a World of Divine Ambush
So how are we to live in light of this? If our strength and wisdom are no guarantee, and if sudden disaster can strike at any moment, what are we to do? The answer is not to curl up in a ball of fatalistic despair. The answer, which the Preacher points to throughout the book, is to fear God and keep His commandments. It is to receive every moment, every meal, every relationship as a gift from the hand of this sovereign God.
This passage liberates us from the tyranny of meritocracy. If the race is not to the swift, then we are free to run with joy, not with the anxious burden of having to be the fastest. If the battle is not to the mighty, we are free to fight with courage, knowing that the victory belongs to the Lord. We are free to work wisely and diligently, not because our wisdom guarantees our bread, but because God has called us to be faithful, and He is the one who provides.
This truth also teaches us where to place our trust. Do not trust in your speed. Do not trust in your strength. Do not trust in your intellect or your portfolio. As the Proverb says, "Trust in the LORD with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding" (Proverbs 3:5). Our understanding is what tells us the swift should win. Faith is what trusts God when they do not.
The Ultimate Reversal
Ultimately, this passage points us to the gospel. For there was one man who was swifter, stronger, and wiser than any other. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was the only one who truly deserved to win the race, to win the battle, to receive all riches and favor. And yet, He was overtaken by an "evil time."
On the cross, it appeared that the race was lost. It appeared that the mighty one had been defeated. It appeared that wisdom had been turned to foolishness. From an "under the sun" perspective, the crucifixion was the ultimate example of time and misfortune overtaking the righteous. The disciples were scattered like birds from a sprung trap. The net of evil seemed to have triumphed.
But from God's heavenly perspective, this was no accident. This was the meticulously planned, sovereign event toward which all of history had been moving. Peter declared on the day of Pentecost that Jesus was "delivered over by the predetermined plan and foreknowledge of God" (Acts 2:23). What looked like a tragic snare was in fact God's glorious trap to destroy sin, death, and the devil.
And in the resurrection, we see the ultimate reversal. The one who was caught in the net of death tore through it. The one who lost the battle on Friday won the entire war on Sunday. Because of this, we who are in Christ can face the apparent randomness of our own lives with a deep and settled confidence. The nets and snares that we encounter are not ultimate. The "evil time" is temporary. For we belong to the one who has mastered time and defeated every misfortune. Our lives are not a series of random events; they are a story being written by a wise and loving author. And because He holds the pen, we can trust that even the chapters that are filled with pain and confusion are moving toward a glorious and joyful end.