A Time to Embrace and a Time to Be Far from Embrace

Fr. Scott Haynes

A Meditation on Ecclesiastes 3:5

“A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them; a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.”— Ecclesiastes 3:5

The third chapter of Ecclesiastes presents us with one of Scripture’s most beautiful reflections upon the changing seasons of human life. There is a time to be born and a time to die, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, because beneath all these changing circumstances stands the mysterious providence of God, who “hath made all things good in their time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11). We do not remain forever in any single season, and much of spiritual maturity consists in recognizing what God is asking of us in the season in which we presently find ourselves.

Among these contrasts are two particularly striking images:

“. . . a time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them; a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.”

Stones can be gathered for building. They can become the walls of a home, the boundaries of a vineyard, or the foundation upon which something enduring will stand. Yet there are also moments when stones must be scattered, when what has accumulated must be cleared away so that the ground can be cultivated again. The same stones that serve a purpose in one place can become an obstacle in another.

So it is with the interior life.

There are seasons when God calls us to gather, to build, to strengthen relationships, to establish habits, to make commitments, and to invest ourselves deeply in the people and responsibilities He has placed before us. These are seasons of construction in which we patiently place one stone upon another through fidelity, sacrifice, forgiveness, prayer, and daily acts of love.

Yet there are also seasons when something must be scattered. Perhaps we have accumulated resentments that need to be cast away, attachments that have begun to possess us, expectations that God never promised to fulfill, habits that once seemed harmless but now hinder our spiritual growth, or plans for our future that we have held so tightly that there is no longer room for Providence to lead us elsewhere. There comes a moment when God asks us to open our hands and allow certain things to fall from them.

This is why Ecclesiastes immediately gives us another contrast: “a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.”

There is tremendous holiness in embracing, because God created us for communion rather than isolation, and much of the Christian life is learned through relationships in which we give ourselves to others. There is a time to draw close to someone who is suffering, to reconcile with someone from whom we have become estranged, to comfort the grieving, to welcome the lonely, to strengthen a friendship, to forgive an offense, or simply to remain beside someone who needs our presence more than our words.

Sometimes holiness means drawing closer.

But Scripture is realistic enough to tell us that there is also “a time to be far from embraces.”

Not every separation is a failure of love, and not every distance between two people is evidence that something has gone terribly wrong. There are moments when love itself requires distance, when continuing to cling to a person, situation, memory, or expectation prevents either ourselves or another person from responding freely to God.

There are relationships we are called to cherish for a lifetime, but there are also relationships whose form changes with time. Children grow and leave the home, friends move away, communities change, responsibilities shift, and people whom we once saw every day become people we see only occasionally. Others whom we expected to remain beside us are removed through circumstances beyond our control.

The temptation in such moments is to believe that because something has changed, something has necessarily gone wrong. Ecclesiastes teaches us otherwise, because there can be a holy season of embracing and a holy season of letting go.

The difficult part is discerning which season we are in.

Sometimes we withdraw when God is asking us to embrace because pride has been wounded, forgiveness is difficult, or vulnerability frightens us. At other times we continue embracing when God is asking us to step back because we are afraid of loneliness, change, or loss. We may hold tightly to something not because God is asking us to preserve it, but because we cannot imagine ourselves without it.

This is where prayer becomes essential, because the question is not simply, “What do I want to keep?” The deeper question is, “Lord, what are You asking of me now?”

There may be someone whom God is asking you to embrace again. Perhaps too many years have passed beneath the shadow of an old wound, and pride has kept you separated from someone whom you should forgive. Perhaps someone close to you is suffering, and God is asking you not to solve that person's problems but simply to remain near, listening patiently and carrying part of the burden through your presence.

There may also be something from which God is asking you to step away. Perhaps you have spent years trying to preserve something that has already changed, attempting to reopen a door that Providence has permitted to close, or carrying an attachment that continually disturbs your peace. There are times when fidelity means remaining, but there are also times when surrender means releasing what we can no longer hold without harming our relationship with God.

This is one of the painful lessons of life: we cannot keep every season.

We cannot make childhood remain childhood, keep every friendship exactly as it once was, preserve every home we have loved, prevent every farewell, or hold every person beside us forever. Time carries us forward, sometimes gently and sometimes painfully, and faith asks us to believe that God remains present not only in what begins but also in what ends.

The wisdom of Ecclesiastes therefore teaches us not merely to accept change, but to look for God within it. When it is time to gather stones, we should gather them faithfully and build something beautiful with what God has given us. When it is time to scatter them, we should ask for the courage to release what has become an obstacle. When it is time to embrace, we should love generously and without calculating the cost; and when the time comes to be far from embrace, we should resist the temptation to believe that distance necessarily destroys everything that was good.

Sometimes the greatest way to honor a gift is not to possess it forever but to thank God that He allowed us to possess it at all.

This truth brings us close to the mystery expressed by Job:

“The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away: as it hath pleased the Lord so is it done: blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21).

The God who gives us seasons of gathering also permits seasons of scattering, and the God who allows us the sweetness of embracing sometimes leads us through the sorrow of separation.

The Christian heart gradually learns to receive both from His hands.

Therefore, when God gives you a season of embrace, do not waste it. Love the people He has placed around you, tell them what they mean to you, forgive quickly, listen patiently, and be present while you still have the opportunity, because one of the great sorrows of life is discovering too late how precious an ordinary moment actually was.

When God permits a season of separation, however, do not allow sorrow to convince you that the previous season was meaningless. What was beautiful remains beautiful because it was given by God, even if it was given only for a time. Gratitude allows us to look backward without demanding that the past return, while faith allows us to look forward without knowing exactly what God will place before us.

Perhaps this is one of the deepest invitations contained in Ecclesiastes 3: to stop demanding that every season become permanent and instead ask for the grace to live each season faithfully.

A Practical Examination

The wisdom of Ecclesiastes becomes especially fruitful when we allow these words to examine our own lives, because it is much easier to recognize seasons in the abstract than to discern faithfully what God is asking of us today.

Begin by considering the people whom God has placed around you. Is there someone you should be embracing whom you have instead kept at a distance? Perhaps resentment has hardened into silence, an old disagreement has become an excuse for separation, or wounded pride has persuaded you to wait indefinitely for the other person to make the first move. Ask yourself whether the distance between you is truly necessary, or whether reconciliation would simply require something difficult from you: humility, an apology, forgiveness, patience, or the willingness to become vulnerable again.

Then consider those closest to you, because sometimes the people most in need of our embrace are the very people whose presence we have begun to take for granted. Am I truly present to my family, friends, community, and those entrusted to my care, or have familiarity and routine made me careless with them? It is possible to live beneath the same roof, sit at the same table, and speak every day while becoming increasingly distant in heart. Ask whether the people nearest to you receive your patience, attention, gratitude, and affection, or whether strangers frequently receive the kindness that those closest to you seldom experience.

Consider also how you respond to another person's suffering. When someone is grieving, frightened, lonely, or discouraged, do I draw near, or do I retreat because another person's pain makes me uncomfortable? There are moments when the embrace God asks of us consists simply in remaining present, listening without interruption, resisting the temptation to offer easy explanations, and allowing another person to know that he does not have to carry his burden alone.

Yet Ecclesiastes also requires us to examine the opposite danger, because not every embrace should continue indefinitely. Is there someone or something to which I am clinging because I am afraid to let go? Perhaps a relationship has changed, a friendship has entered another season, a child has grown and must be allowed greater freedom, an opportunity has passed, or a cherished plan can no longer become what you once hoped it would be. Ask whether your continued grasp is an expression of genuine love or whether fear, loneliness, insecurity, jealousy, or the desire for control has quietly disguised itself as love.

Genuine love does not seek to possess another person. Do I allow the people I love the freedom to follow God's will, even when their path carries them farther from me than I would prefer? Can I rejoice when they grow, even when their growth means that they need me differently? Do I respect appropriate boundaries, or do I become resentful when another person cannot give me the attention, affection, agreement, or reassurance I desire?

Then consider the stones you continue to carry. What am I gathering that God may be asking me to scatter? Perhaps the stones are memories of injuries that you repeatedly turn over in your mind, rehearsing conversations that happened years ago and keeping alive offenses that should have been surrendered long ago. Perhaps they are grudges, comparisons, disappointments, jealousies, regrets, or judgments about others that have accumulated so gradually that you scarcely recognize their weight.

There are also stones that should be gathered, because the spiritual life cannot consist only of letting go. What has God been asking me to build that I continually postpone? Perhaps there is a neglected friendship that needs attention, a family relationship that needs patient rebuilding, a prayer life that has become inconsistent, a duty that has repeatedly been delayed, or a good habit that would bring greater order and peace into your life.

Finally, examine your relationship with the past. Am I grateful for what God once gave me, or am I demanding that yesterday return before I will be content today? Memories should be cherished, but memories become burdens when we use them to reject the present. We can become so attached to the way things used to be, to people as they once were, or even to ourselves as we once were that we fail to recognize the grace God is offering now.

The deepest question, therefore, is this: Am I willing to let God determine the season? It is easy to accept a season that corresponds with our desires, but faith is tested when God seems to say, “Remain,” while we want to leave, or “Let go,” while everything within us wants to remain.

Examination of Conscience

Place yourself quietly before God and ask the Holy Spirit for the courage to see your heart truthfully, neither excusing what needs to change nor condemning yourself for what has already been placed beneath His mercy.

Regarding those I am called to embrace: 

Have I neglected someone whom God has entrusted to me? Have I withheld affection, encouragement, gratitude, or kindness because I assumed there would always be another opportunity? Have I allowed busyness, my telephone, entertainment, work, or personal concerns to make me unavailable to those closest to me? Have I failed to notice someone who is lonely or suffering because entering into that person's pain would inconvenience me?

Regarding forgiveness: Is there someone whose name immediately disturbs my peace? Is there an offense I continually replay in my imagination? Have I secretly enjoyed another person's failure because that person once wounded me? Am I refusing forgiveness because I want the offender to suffer longer? Am I demanding an apology before I will allow myself to move forward? Have I confused forgiveness with pretending that nothing happened, and therefore used the difficulty of reconciliation as an excuse for continuing resentment?

Regarding pride: Is there someone I should contact, apologize to, or attempt to reconcile with, but pride prevents me from taking the first step? Am I waiting for another person to admit fault while refusing to acknowledge my own? Have I allowed a disagreement to become more important than a relationship? Would I rather prove that I was right than restore peace?

Regarding unhealthy attachment: Am I clinging to a person because I genuinely love that person, or because I fear being alone? Do I attempt to control people whom I claim to love? Do I become jealous when someone I love forms other friendships, pursues a different path, or no longer depends upon me as before? Have I made another person's affection, approval, presence, or attention so important that my peace depends upon receiving it?

Regarding necessary distance: Am I remaining in a situation merely because I fear change? Have I repeatedly ignored reasonable boundaries? Am I trying to force open a door that Providence has allowed to close? On the other hand, have I used the language of “boundaries” or “moving on” merely to escape the difficult Christian obligations of patience, forgiveness, charity, or reconciliation?

Regarding the stones I carry: What resentment am I still carrying? What jealousy have I secretly nourished? What disappointment have I allowed to become bitterness? What judgment about another person have I repeated so often that I now treat my interpretation as unquestionable fact? What old wound have I made part of my identity instead of allowing Christ gradually to heal it?

Regarding the stones I should gather: What relationship needs rebuilding? What neglected duty needs my attention? What promise have I failed to keep? What spiritual practice have I abandoned? Where have I been waiting for circumstances to change when God is simply asking me to begin doing the good that is already possible?

Regarding the past: Am I grateful for what God gave me, or resentful because He did not allow me to keep it forever? Am I comparing the present constantly with an earlier period of my life? Have I romanticized yesterday so much that I cannot receive today? Is there a loss, disappointment, relationship, position, home, dream, or former way of life that I have never truly surrendered to God?

Regarding the present: Who needs my love today? Who needs my forgiveness today? What good can I build today? What stone should I scatter today? What conversation should I have while there is still time? What apology should I make? What gratitude should I express? What act of kindness have I postponed because I assumed tomorrow would give me another opportunity?

Finally, ask the most difficult question: If God is bringing one season of my life to an end, am I willing to trust Him enough to enter the next one?

We cannot keep every season, but neither does God abandon us when one season passes into another. The Lord who was present when we gathered remains present when we must scatter, and the Lord who blessed the embrace remains beside us when the hour comes to release it.

Therefore, our prayer need not be, “Lord, keep everything exactly as it is.” A deeper prayer is possible:

Lord, when it is time to gather, teach me to build faithfully; when it is time to scatter, give me courage to release what I should no longer carry. When it is time to embrace, keep me from withholding love through selfishness, fear, pride, or distraction; and when it is time to be far from embrace, keep me from clinging to what You are asking me to surrender. Give me wisdom to distinguish perseverance from unhealthy attachment, necessary distance from selfish withdrawal, and genuine love from the desire to possess. Teach me to be grateful for what has been, faithful to what is, and trusting before what is yet to come, so that in every changing season I may recognize Your unchanging hand and believe that You have made all things beautiful in their proper time.