Psalm 88

For my weekly quiet time this week, I will blog about Psalm 88.

Psalm 88 is notorious because it is a completely negative Psalm.  The Psalmist says nothing positive or hopeful.  The Psalmist feels that he is near death, or even experiencing death, and he characterizes death as a state of alienation from God----where God does not regard the dead, and the dead do not praise God.  While the Psalmist does not feel that God is heeding him----even in the morning, which in the Psalms and the Hebrew Bible is often a time of divine deliverance----he still thinks that God is paying attention to him, for he believes that his suffering is due to God's wrath upon him.  The Psalmist also feels abandoned by his friends and acquaintances.

Something that I appreciate about many of the laments in the Psalms is that they carry a message that we can call on God, even if we are alone and nobody else likes us.  In this day and age, communitarianism is becoming the norm within the Christian religion, and, while community is important, the stress on communitarianism tends to send the message that those who have problems fitting into a community are displeasing to God.  But the Psalms of lament convey another message: that God loves us, even if others do not.  But does Psalm 88 convey that message, when it is completely negative?  I think so, for the Psalmist still believes that calling out to God is worth the effort, even if God does not appear to be listening to him.  As long as there is a God, there is hope.

Unless one is dead, right?  That's why I have a hard time getting my mind around the disbelief in a rigorous afterlife in ancient Israelite thought.  So death, according to Psalm 88, is a time when people are ignored by God and tend to ignore God by not giving God praise.  There is even a statement in the Talmud that the dead are free from the obligations of the Torah!  Even if the Psalmist was hoping that God would deliver him from a premature death, the fact is that he would die eventually.  Even if God were to heal him of his disease and allow him to live to a ripe old age, the Psalmist would at some point die and become independent of God.  It sounds rather hopeless, to tell you the truth! 

One commentary I read treated Psalm 88 as a foil for the hope in a resurrection that is in the New Testament, and that makes a degree of sense: Hebrews 2:15 talks about people being in bondage due to their fear of death, and how Jesus delivers them from that.  In the Hebrew Bible, however, what would be the purpose of a religious life, if we were all heading towards a state of alienation from God?  I suppose that the Book of Ecclesiastes wrestles with that question: it says that we should enjoy life and serve God while we can, and yet it also appears to hold out some hope that the spirit of human beings will go to God at death.

Not surprisingly, there were Jewish interpretations that sought to uncover some hope in Psalm 88.  The Targum actually calls Psalm 88 a Psalm of praise.  And Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch interprets v 1 to mean that the Jews in exile suffer during the day, but during the night they come before God and study the Torah, and are thereby refreshed.  I doubt that Psalm 88:1 is saying such a thing, but I do identify with what Rabbi Hirsch is getting at: that we can endure a harsh situation by setting our minds on what is positive and edifying.  Or at least we can try!

But, in my opinion, the lesson of Psalm 88 is that God will listen to us, even if we have nothing positive to say.  I can also identify with the Psalmist's desire to avoid death, which is a state of alienation from God.  Who would want to be in a state of isolation, where one is not cared for by God, and one does not care for God?

Wisdom Literature: Elite, Popular, or Both?

I started Ben Witherington III's Jesus the Sage.

On page 6, Witherington says that mass literacy is a modern phenomenon, for writing in the ancient world took money and leisure----both in terms of the cumbersome and expensive writing materials, and also in terms of the writing itself. Witherington states that "Surveys of as literate a culture as ancient Egypt suggest only a 1-10% degree of literacy." (Yet, see Witherington's blog posts on Jewish literacy in the time of Jesus: here, here, here, and here.) For Witherington, a significant amount of wisdom literature was produced within the royal court, for there are indications that the authors were advisers to the king, plus their agricultural references indicate an upper-class milieu. At the same time, Witherington maintains that wisdom literature could be preserving oral material from a variety of sources: "rich and poor, family, clan and court" (page 6). Witherington says that there is a lack of evidence for the existence of royal schools during Israel's monarchical period, which is when he dates Proverbs, since he does not see any exilic or post-exilic themes within it (but he dates Ecclesiastes to the Hellenistic Period, on the basis of its late Hebrew and its themes). For Witherington, when Proverbs refers to instruction from the father and the mother, it is talking about the family, not the school.

An interesting point that Witherington makes is that biblical wisdom literature such as Proverbs was seeking to provide an alternative to fertility religions. It warns about sexual immorality and it makes wisdom at most "a personification of an attribute of God or perhaps of God's creation" (as opposed to being a goddess, perhaps; page 10). (Witherington seems to presume, at least here, that sexual acts were a part of ancient fertility cults, when that is disputed by scholars, at least when it comes to Ugaritic and other ancient Near Eastern religions.) He also states that wisdom literature sought to make Yahwism applicable to Israelites' day-to-day lives, since Yahwism tended to focus largely on major events of Israel's history rather than daily life, which was more the focus of fertility cults. Although Witherington ascribes an elite milieu to wisdom literature, he also appears to believe that it was relevant to many other Israelites.

Ecclesiastes 12

I finished my study of Ecclesiastes today! What I get out of Ecclesiastes 12 (based on my consultation of commentaries) is the following:

We will all eventually die. That message is conveyed in vv 1-8, whether you see those verses as an allegory for our deteriorating body parts (Ecclesiastes Rabbah, the Targum, Rashi, and Augustine), as a description of a wealthy landowner's declining estate (Daniel Grossberg in the Jewish Study Bible, who refers to such a situation in Ecclesiastes 2), as an account of a funeral (Raymond Van Leeuwen in the HarperCollins Study Bible), or as a statement that almond trees and grasshoppers carry on, even after we die, meaning that nature is indifferent to us (Tremper Longman on v 5). Whichever of these interpretations is correct, the climax is v 7, which affirms that the dust of the corpse will return to the earth, while the spirit returns to God, who gave it.

Does v 7 support an afterlife? In Ecclesiastes 3:18-21, Qoheleth asks if the spirit of man goes upward, and he does so in the context of his discussion over whether humans have the same fate as beasts, namely, death. There, he appears to view the scenario of the spirit going upwards as an afterlife, and he dismisses it. Does he affirm the afterlife in Ecclesiastes 12:7? Tremper Longman says no, maintaining that Qoheleth is merely discussing death: when we die, our breath of life returns to God, who gave it. For Longman, that breath is not an immortal soul.

Ecclesiastes 12:5 refers to an eternal home, and Longman maintains that this, too, does not refer to an afterlife. For this verse, he documents that an eternal home in the ancient world simply meant a grave. Longman cites the second century B.C.E. Palmyrene Inscription (which was Punic), a targum on Isaiah 14:18, Babylonian Talmud Sanhedrin 19a, and Tobit 3:6.

Because of Ecclesiastes 3:18-21, I'm not entirely convinced by Longman's treatment of Ecclesiastes 12:7; I'm more convinced, however, by his treatment of Ecclesiastes 12:5, since he brings in ancient sources. But I will say that Ecclesiastes 12:1-8 presents death as a horrible thing, as something we should keep in our minds to encourage us to serve God in our youth, as the source of this life's futility. That corresponds with Qoheleth's message throughout his book: that we should enjoy life while we still can. I have a hard time thinking that Qoheleth would have viewed death in such dismal terms had he believed in an afterlife.

Like the Nelson Study Bible, I interpret Ecclesiastes 12:11 to mean that Qoheleth's words are goads that stimulate us to move in the right direction. Because life is transient, we should enjoy it while we still can---tasting of its pleasures even as we obey God. For Qoheleth, pleasures by themselves are empty, but they can be sweetened when we partake of them with the realization that we will one day die and no longer be able to enjoy them (see Ecclesiastes 7). And a healthy respect for God can influence us to enjoy those pleasures appropriately (Ecclesiastes 11:9).

On Qoheleth's criticism of books and reference to judgment in Ecclesiastes 12:12-14, I think that Daniel Grossberg offers a decent explanation for what those verses are saying:

"[J]ust because human rational inquiry leads nowhere, in terms of demonstrating a system of reward and punishment or lasting achievements, it does not invalidate the power and sovereignty of God nor disprove the possibility that in some way He does call everyone and everything into account."

So we should believe in God's justice even when our eyes see the opposite? In my opinion, this can be a positive thing: I believe God is good and will make things right, even though there are so many things around me that are wrong; plus, I should do good, realizing that God is on the side of righteousness. But I can also envision an application of Qoheleth's approach that does not quite appeal to me: "This non-Christian only looks like a good person, but he's really evil because he doesn't have the new heart that believing in Christ brings to those who have faith in Jesus, and so he will justly go to hell." Why should I disregard the sight of my own eyes---experience---for "revelation" that presents a psychotic sort of God?

Overall, I appreciated the Book of Ecclesiastes. It's probably the most "real" book in the Bible. Evangelicals like to talk about God having a special plan for everyone (especially believers): God will lead us to our career, or to a spouse, or to good health. But life does not always appear to be like this. A person can go to school to prepare for what seems to be God's intended vocation for her, only for her to die before she gets to perform that vocation. A man can meet his "soul-mate" and get married to her, only for the couple to divorce. The man then searches again for the woman God supposedly has in store for him. Qoheleth is honest about life not always working out. He says that there are accidents---time and chance (which, for him, are actually the hand of God, whose ways we do not know). For Qoheleth, wisdom can help us to live better lives, but that doesn't work all of the time. Our lives can be cut short, plus there is a lot of unfairness in the world.

But there is a limit to Qoheleth's realism. He talks about oppression, and so he recognizes ills in society. And yet he encourages everyone to enjoy life---to eat, to drink, etc. But what if a person is too poor to eat or to drink? Although Qoheleth acknowledges the existence of victims in society, he seems to assume that everyone can live high off the hog, when such is not necessarily the case. And yet, maybe even the poor can enjoy life, in some capacity, and the message of Qoheleth can be useful even for them. (In my opinion, though, we should not use that as an excuse to refrain from helping the poor. Their lot is still horrible, even if they can make due with it, at times.)

Moreover, unlike Qoheleth, I believe in an afterlife precisely because this life is so unfair. But I thought about something yesterday as I was reading through an old paper for a theology class. In that paper from 2004, I state: "Everything bad that ever happened to me at some point came to an end. I am often relieved that the ultimate nightmare, life, will one day be over." As I think back to that time, even my experience at church was promoting a similar message: Tim Keller said on more than one occasion that our suffering in this life will make our enjoyment of the afterlife so much sweeter. There is wisdom in this attitude, but I find that, nowadays, I am enjoying this life a lot more than I did in 2004, rather than just looking forward to an afterlife. Maybe that's because there are shows on TV that I enjoy, or because I've learned social skills that help me to get along better with people, or because I have learned ways to cope with the ills of life. But I'm happier nowadays.

I still hope that there's an afterlife, however, for the people and the things I enjoy will come to an end, and I dread that. I should enjoy the people I love while I still can, even as I hope that there just might be an afterlife that is run by a benevolent God.

Ecclesiastes 11

For Thanksgiving, I studied Ecclesiastes 11. What I got out of the chapter (based on my consultation of commentaries) was the following:

1. On vv 1-2: We should give to charity or invest because we can gain positive returns from so doing. If these verses are about charity, then their meaning is probably that God might reward us for our generosity, or that people we help will be more likely come to our rescue at a time when we need them. If the verses are about investment, they are probably saying that we should make investments to gain a return, as well as diversify our investments rather than putting all of our eggs in one basket; if disaster hits, we’ll find that diversifying our investments was a wise decision.

2. On vv 3-6: But Qoheleth does not really believe that doing the right thing always brings good results. In his mind, we can’t control what happens. We don’t know the future, nor do we understand how or why certain things occur in the natural world. What God does is a mystery. We see this point also in Ecclesiastes 3:11; 8:17; and 9:12. Although the world is not predictable, however, we should still work hard, for at least then there is a chance that we might succeed. A point that I have repeatedly gotten out of Qoheleth is that practicing wisdom is not fool-proof, for time and chance can bring misfortune, even to those who do the right thing. But doing the right thing at least increases the probability that things will go well for us.

3. On vv 7-8: Enjoy life while you still can, for the days of darkness (old age and death) will be longer than the days of life (light). To demonstrate that Qoheleth equates light with life and darkness with old age and death, the Jewish Study Bible cites the following passages: Ecclesiastes 6:3-4, 6; 7:11; 12:1-2. This message coincides with Qoheleth’s lack of belief in an afterlife, which leads him to conclude that this life is all there is, and so we should enjoy it to the fullest, while we still can.

But how did religious interpreters who believed in an afterlife interpret Ecclesiastes 11:7-8? Ecclesiastes Rabbah 11:6-7 interprets this passage to mean that the Torah is light, and yet our lives have many days of darkness, for the study of the Torah in this age is futile and dark compared to the Torah study that will exist in the Messianic age. Ecclesiastes Rabbah subverts the meaning of Ecclesiastes 11:7-8. The biblical passage says that we should enjoy this life (light) because days of darkness (old age and death) are coming. But Ecclesiastes Rabbah interprets the passage to mean that this life is the darkness, whereas the afterlife in the Messianic Age is when Jews will have true light.

Pope Gregory the Great (sixth century) had a similar approach to Ecclesiastes 11:7-8: In Moralia Job 2.9.92, he interpreted it to mean that we shouldn’t value the present life so much, for it is transient and temporary. Qoheleth’s whole point is that we should enjoy and value this life because it is temporary, but Gregory draws the opposite conclusion from Ecclesiastes 11:7-8. For Gregory, the point of the passage is that we should focus on the afterlife.

The third century Christian thinker Gregory Thaumaturgos, by contrast, said that Ecclesiastes 11:7-8 indeed means that this life is all there is. But this Gregory says that these were the sentiments of the non-believer, not something that Christians should accept as authoritative.

4. On vv 9-10: Our youth passes by quickly, and so we should enjoy it rather than holding on to sorrow and evil, which can hurt us. While we should enjoy life and its pleasures, however, we should remember that God judges. There are times when Qoheleth doubts that God judges, but Qoheleth also affirms that God does so (see my post, Ecclesiastes 8). As Tremper Longman notes, following pleasures and the desires of our hearts can lead us into wrongdoing and hurt us if we are not careful (see Numbers 15:39), but there is such a thing as appropriate, responsible enjoyment of life’s pleasures.

Ecclesiastes 10

For my weekly quiet time this Sabbath, I studied Ecclesiastes 10.

I encountered a theme in Ecclesiastes 10:8-11 that occurs throughout Ecclesiastes: that wisdom can make our life better, and yet the world is not fool-proof. Accidents can still happen, even to the wise. A person may be digging a pit, tearing down a wall, quarrying stones, or cleaving wood, and he is suddenly injured or killed in his work. Granted, some difficulties with work are solved by good old practical wisdom: a wise person will chop wood after he sharpens the blade of his ax, for example, rather than chop with a dull blade. But wisdom does not solve everything: a man may be an expert snake-charmer, for instance, and yet his snake-charming will not help him if the snake bites him out of the clear blue sky, before the man even know what's what!

Jewish interpretations that I read (or read about)---such as Ecclesiastes Rabbah, Rashi, Jarchi, and targumim---tried to interpret Ecclesiastes 10:8-11 in an ethical sense. There are places in Scripture in which a man falling into a pit he has dug refers to punishment for sin: a man tries to hurt somebody by digging a pit for his potential victim to fall into, and, instead, the digger of the pit falls into it (see Psalm 7:14-16; 9:15-16; Proverbs 26:27)! Rabbis applied Ecclesiastes 10's reference to tearing down a wall to transgressing the words of the sages, and its passage about quarrying stones to Jewish students removing themselves from the study of the Torah. As is often the case with religious interpretations of Ecclesiastes, Jewish interpreters attempted to reconcile Qoheleth's belief in a chaotic world with their own view that the world is a place that's manageable because it is governed by a good God who consistently rewards righteousness and punishes wickedness.

I don't say this often, but Calvary Chapel preacher Bob Davis' sermon on Ecclesiastes 10 was actually pretty good, aside from the anti-Muslim comment he throws in (click on Ecclesiastes 10 to listen). Ecclesiastes 10:1 says that dead flies corrupt good ointment, and a little folly can outweigh much wisdom. Davis interpreted this verse to mean that it only takes one bad decision to dramatically and negatively affect a person's life, however wise he may have lived for the majority of his time. A sexual abuser, for example, may be sorry for her deed and have God's forgiveness, but she will experience legal consequences for the rest of her natural life. A person who normally does not party may go to a get-together and get drunk one night, and he ends up killing people in an automobile accident. One bad decision can have life-changing effects. That could be why many interpreters believe that Ecclesiastes 10 is saying that wise people are careful and moral: sure, wisdom is not fool-proof, but being careful can obviate problems that carelessness or immorality can create.

Ecclesiastes 10 also offers political commentary. Qoheleth is sort of a political elitist, for he bemoans the poor and the foolish being elevated, even as the rich and the nobles are brought down. In the HarperCollins Study Bible, Raymond Van Leeuwen identifies a similar elitism in Proverbs 26:1; 30:21-23; and Isaiah 3:4-5. Ecclesiastes 10:16-17 may offer Qoheleth's rationale for his elitism: a king who is a child is continually partying with his princes, which clouds his judgment, whereas a noble king only parties with them at appropriate times. But, soon after Qoheleth criticizes certain types of kings, he goes on to say that we shouldn't criticize the king in our thoughts or in private, for the king may learn that we have a bad opinion of him. This is Qoheleth's practical wisdom: we may not like a king, but the king is more powerful than we are and can hurt us, and so we should exercise caution.

Qoheleth's elitism makes me think: elites do not necessarily govern well, for there are many that have oppressed people, and the Bible criticizes oppression in a number of places. But non-elites that assume power can themselves be oppressive, and their new-found power can go to their heads. Moreover, non-elites' lack of experience in governing may not do people much good.

Ecclesiastes 9

For my weekly quiet time this Sabbath, I studied Ecclesiastes 9. Its message is the usual Qoheleth spiel: work hard and enjoy life while you’re still alive to do so, for one day you’ll die, and you won’t be able to enjoy anything then. Qoheleth also appears to argue that, while wisdom is valuable because it can bring about good results, that’s not an absolute. A wise man can save a city through his wisdom, for example, but all it takes is one bad apple to botch everything up. Moreover, for Qoheleth, the world doesn’t run on absolutes. The wicked aren’t always punished, the righteous aren’t always rewarded, and the prize does not always go to the most talented individual. All we can do in response to the unfairness of life is to enjoy our work and whatever fruits we derive from that, as well as the wife of our youth. (Qoheleth was most likely written for a male audience.)

That’s my summary of Ecclesiastes 9. Now, I want to discuss the interpretation of two passages: Ecclesiastes 9:5 and vv 14-15:

1. In my reading, I was interested in interpretations of Ecclesiastes 9:5, in which Qoheleth says that the dead know nothing. My religious background (Armstrongism and Seventh-Day Adventism) cited that passage to defend the doctrine of “soul sleep,” which affirms that human beings are unconscious during their death, meaning that they don’t have a conscious soul that goes to heaven or hell when they die; rather, they are unconscious until the resurrection at the last day.

In the rabbinic document, Ecclesiastes Rabbah, the rabbis are troubled by Ecclesiastes’ apparent denial of an afterlife. They believed that the soul existed apart from the body after death, and that a resurrection would occur in the latter days. Ecclesiastes, however, appeared to dispute the notion that the dead knew anything in a state of consciousness, as well as the afterlife in general. Consequently, there were rabbis who tried to reconcile the Book of Ecclesiastes with their belief in an afterlife.

The rabbis in Ecclesiastes Rabbah 9:4 argue that the “living” in Ecclesiastes 9:5 refers to the righteous, whereas the “dead” in that verse means the wicked. A rabbi points out that a righteous person is alive even while he’s dead, using a similar argument to that of Jesus in Matthew 22:32, Mark 12:27, and Luke 20:38: God in Exodus 33:18 talks about Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as if they are still alive. Conversely, a rabbi contends that a wicked person is dead even while he’s alive, for Ezekiel 18:32 says that God takes no pleasure in the death of the dead. Since the dead cannot die, being already dead, the rabbi concludes that “dead” in Ezekiel 18:32 means a living wicked person, and he applies that definition of “dead” to the “dead” in Ecclesiastes 9:5: for him, the passage is saying that the wicked know nothing and will receive no reward after death. (Actually, Ecclesiastes Rabbah 9:4 doesn’t explicitly make that point after it applies the “dead” in Ecclesiastes 9:4 to the wicked, but we do find that sort of interpretation in the targum; also, see my old post, Ecclesiastes 9:4-10 and the Afterlife.)

The Nelson Study Bible offers the following comments on Ecclesiastes 9:4-5:

“9:4 In this verse, Solomon uses a proverb that says a living lowly creature is preferable to a dead exalted creature. The point is not that death is the absolute end of all things; instead, the point is that while there is life, there is hope of doing something to the glory of God.

“9:5 This, again, is not a flat denial of any hope beyond the grave. The point of view is limited to what can be known strictly from a human point of view, ‘under the sun.’ they have no more reward: The Preacher’s point appears to be the same as that in the Gospel of John: One must work while it is still day (that is, while one is still alive), for the night will come when no one can work (John 9:4).”

I heard and read preachers who made a similar interpretive move to that of the Nelson Study Bible: Qoheleth is saying that we should repent and serve God while we’re still alive, for there will be no more opportunities for repentance once we die! At that point, God will judge us, and we’ll go to heaven or hell! And so repent and start serving God…today!

Regarding the “human point of view,” I thought that Calvary Chapel preacher Chuck Smith explained that rather well in his own attempt to dismiss the doctrine of “soul sleep.” After discussing the parable of Lazarus and the rich man, in which the two characters go to a location after their deaths (Luke 16:19-31), Smith states the following:

“Now you have to either accept the word of Jesus or the word of Solomon in a backslidden state as he is trying to find the reason and purpose of life apart from God, life under the sun. It is wrong to take the book of Ecclesiastes for biblical doctrine. Better to turn to the words of Christ. He surely knew much better than did Solomon in his backslidden state.” See here.

The rabbis at least accepted Ecclesiastes as the word of God and tried to reconcile it with their view of what God had revealed (e.g., the afterlife). But Smith treats Ecclesiastes 9:5 as one of Solomon’s backslidden musings, meaning that Smith does not consider it to be an authoritative source for doctrine.

If you want to find a way to respect Qoheleth’s lack of belief in an afterlife—within the context of a Christian religion that affirms an afterlife—Tremper Logman III, in his commentary on Ecclesiastes, may show you how to do so: Jesus redeemed us from the hopelessness and fear of death that perplexed Qoheleth, by himself experiencing meaninglessness and death as a human being, on our behalf.

2. I enjoyed Ecclesiastes Rabbah 9:16-24, which features different applications of Ecclesiastes 9:14-15. In that passage of Qoheleth, a poor wise man saves a besieged city from an attacker, yet he gets no credit for doing so. The rabbis applied this story to Joseph saving Egypt from famine, to Judah saving Benjamin in the Joseph story, to Moses saving Israel from Egypt and the wrath of God, to the good inclination saving a human being from the death that results from following the evil inclination, and to other scenarios. Ecclesiastes Rabbah repeatedly makes the point that, though human beings may have forgotten these poor wise individuals, God has not forgotten them, for God recorded their names in Scripture. Christians have interpreted the poor wise man in light of Jesus. Overall, I like the idea that God remembers us and whatever good that we do, even if nobody else on the face of the earth cares.

Ecclesiastes 8

For my weekly quiet time this Sabbath, I studied Ecclesiastes 8. I’d like to start out this post with a quote from Raymond C. Van Leeuwen on vv. 10-17. It’s in the HarperCollins Study Bible:

“Human experience of God’s justice is mysterious, even inverted (thus vanity), leading the wicked to think it does not exist. Even the wise cannot know it (8.17; 3.11) yet Qoheleth insists on its reality (3.16-17; 11.9) and commends joy (8.15).”

Qoheleth looks at life and thinks that it’s not fair. There are wicked people who live long and prosper, while there are righteous people who have little to show for their wisdom, and whose lives may even be cut short.

Does Qoheleth believe that God is fair, in spite of all the injustice that he sees in the world around him? Van Leeuwen’s answer is “yes.” I can understand why Van Leeuwen concludes this about Qoheleth. Qoheleth says that we don’t know a lot of things about the past, the present, or the future (i.e., Ecclesiastes 3:11; 8:17). Maybe, in this life, God rewards the righteous and punishes the wicked in ways that we cannot see.

Or perhaps Qoheleth is open to the possibility of reward and punishment in the afterlife. Granted, there are places in which Qoheleth dismisses the possibility of an afterlife (Ecclesiastes 3:16-22; 9:4-6). One could argue that his whole existential crisis is propelled by his belief that this life is all there is, for everything looks so pointless to him when he considers that life is so short. That’s why he exhorts people to enjoy the pleasures of life while they still can: recognizing the transitory nature of life enables one to appreciate more fully what life has to offer.

But Qoheleth wonders in 3:11 if the spirit of man goes upward while the spirit of animals goes downward—to the dust. In 12:7, he says that the spirit of human beings goes to God, who gave it. Qoheleth may assume that this life is all there is, but could there have been times when he acknowledged that there may be an afterlife? Qoheleth says in 11:9 that God will bring certain actions into judgment. Although Qoheleth never explicitly states that God will judge people after they die, could Qoheleth have believed in God’s justice amidst the apparent injustice in the world around him on account of some belief in an afterlife?

Perhaps Qoheleth had a “hopeful” view of the afterlife, just like there are “hopeful” universalists who aren’t sure that God will save everyone in the end, but who hope that God will do so. These hopeful universalists aren’t dogmatic that God will save everyone, but they don’t rule out the possibility that God will do that. Similarly, maybe Qoheleth hoped that there might be an afterlife, which would solve his puzzle of how injustice can exist in a world that’s ruled by a just God. But he wasn't sure.

Ecclesiastes 7

For my weekly quiet time today, I studied Ecclesiastes 7. I’d like to discuss two issues, using certain passages as a fulcrum-point:

1. Ecclesiastes 7:16-17 states (in the NRSV): “Do not be too righteous, and do not act too wise; why should you destroy yourself? Do not be too wicked, and do not be a fool; why should you die before your time?”

This passage resonated with me. I’ve often been burned out by evangelical Christianity because it makes demands that are too unrealistic for me: don’t lust after women; don’t hate; forgive everybody; reach out to people; put God first; avoid “worldly” entertainments; stay married to the same person for the rest of your natural life, no matter what (well, this last one doesn’t apply to me, but several people in unhappy marriages may find this rule to be a burden). I’ve felt that I need to be perfect each and every day in order to earn God’s favor, or to demonstrate that I already have God’s favor (which is how many Christians like to incorporate works salvation into their doctrine of “free grace”).

There are times when I just want to stop beating up on myself for my imperfections. So there are people I don’t like, and I’m not friends with every person on the face of the earth. That’s true for everyone! Should I beat up on myself because I’m not divine?

Ecclesiastes 7:16 tells me that I don’t have to be perfect, and that I can easily destroy myself by being too righteous. At the same time, v 17 warns me against immorality. I can die before my time through immoral activity. If I give into my passions and casually sleep with a woman, I can end up with an STD. There can be legal consequences to a person who caves into his desires without really thinking. Nursing bitterness can lead to health problems; as Ecclesiastes 7:9 says (in the KJV), anger rests in the bosom of fools. (For me, Christianity makes this worse by demanding that I like and be friends with those who have hurt me. I’d much rather forget about them and move on!) And the list goes on. In short, there can be consequences for bad behavior.

Ecclesiastes 7 talks about the value of wisdom. We become wiser and deeper when we go to a funeral and regognize the transitory nature of life, than when we merely eat, drink, and be merry. When we realize that life is short, we value what we’re enjoying a whole lot more. Instant gratification does not necessarily serve us, for the end of a thing can be better than the beginning, and so we should be patient. Looking at our past as “the good old days” does not help us, for, not only is our view of the past most likely unrealistic, but we have to deal with the here-and-now. We shouldn’t desire to overhear what people say about us, for it might be negative; and we should forgive those who curse us, for we have cursed others.

Another piece of wisdom in Ecclesiastes 7: it’s better to be rebuked by a wise man than to be praised by fools, for rebuke by a wise man actually helps us. I’ve experienced abuse of this concept from evangelical Christians, who have delighted in rebuking me for being an introvert, when they think that I should be a happy, happy extrovert, as Jesus supposedly was. But I’ve not found their rebuke to be helpful: rather than bearing positive fruit in my life, it has rubbed salt in my wounds. But I’ve appreciated those who have given me constructive ways to view situations and to address my problems. That sort of advice has usually come from people who aren’t serious Christians, and therefore they don’t make the perfect the enemy of the good.

Ecclesiastes 7:19-20 says that wisdom is good, right before noticing that people are not righteous. What’s going on here? Tremper Longman says the point here is that we can’t apply wisdom perfectly anyway, so why should we try so hard? After all, doesn’t v 15 say that the good may die young, even as the wicked live a long time? Even those who are wise and righteous can’t be assured of a long life. So why stress out over it? I guess that we can gain benefit from applying rules of wisdom, for those rules accord with how the world is. But why should we beat ourselves up for not being perfect?

I need to mention something: not everyone shares my interpretation of Ecclesiastes 7:16-17. Rabbinic literature (such as Ecclesiastes Rabbah 7:25) cites Saul as someone who tried to be over-righteous: Saul thought that his own decision to spare the Amalekites was more merciful than God’s command that he exterminate them. Because Saul was merciful to those God wanted to punish, Saul put himself on a slippery slope that led him to exterminate innocent people: the priests of Nob. Ecclesiastes Rabbah may be saying that Saul should have followed God’s standards of righteousness, rather than making himself his own moral authority. I agree that there are times for mercy, and times for justice, since justice is necessary for the existence of order. I also concur that my morality should come from someplace other than myself. But I’m not gun-ho about the fundamentalist “don’t question God” creed.

Another thing to note: the Jewish commentator Rashi (who may be referring to a rabbinic passage) says that Saul misapplied the rabbinic principle of qal va-homer: what applies to the less, applies to the greater. Saul reasoned that, if it was wrong to kill an individual, then it must be wrong to exterminate an entire nation, the Amalekites. The rabbis often used qal va-homer in their exegesis, but they apparently did not consider it fool-proof, for they held that one could reach wrong conclusions through its application.

But, back to Ecclesiastes 7:16, the Nelson Study Bible says that it means we shouldn’t be legalistic or self-righteous, nor should we consider ourselves to be wise (cp. Proverbs 3:7).

2. Ecclesiastes 7:13-14 says that prosperity and adversity both come from the hand of God. This is a hard teaching. Calvinist Douglas Wilson makes a lot of it, for he believes that God causes both good and also misfortune. Tremper Longman says the idea in vv 13-14 is that God is trying to throw us off so that we don’t know the future. Maybe Qoheleth’s view is that, when we don’t know the future, we can find value in the present: we won’t take our prosperity for granted, and we can work and enjoy the fruit of our labor in the moment, without stressing over what will someday happen. Or perhaps Qoheleth’s God thinks that knowing the future should be his prerogative alone.

We see this sort of determinism in James 4:13-15, which states that we shouldn’t brag about our plans for tomorrow, for we may die; rather, we should say that we’ll fulfill our plans for tomorrow if it’s God will. Does that imply that it’s God’s will if we die tomorrow in an accident? Exodus 21:13 distinguishes between premeditated murder and accidental manslaughter, calling the latter an act of God.

But Ecclesiastes 7 is not totally deterministic. Its message is that we have the power to make decisions that can affect our life, for good or for evil. Granted, this is not a fool-proof rule in Qoheleth’s eyes, for the good can die young, even as the wicked live a long time! But goodness contains principles that are beneficial, whereas evil contains seeds of misfortune. Misfortune is not necessarily a divine punishment, for it can flow from an evil act, as evil begets evil. Ecclesiastes 7 is saying, in a sense, that we are masters of our own destinies, through the decisions that we make. And yet, we’re not, for bad stuff can happen to us. Qoheleth blames bad stuff on God, for, in Ecclesiastes 7:13, he says that God makes the straight crooked. And yet, Qoheleth in Ecclesiastes 7 is not consistent on this point, for he says in v 29 that God made man good, and yet man has botched things up through his own devices.

God of Borg

For my weekly quiet time this week, I studied Ecclesiastes 6.

Is God the source of evil? Qoheleth says that God is the source of at least one evil: that men attain wealth and honor, only for God to prevent them from enjoying their accomplishments (v 2). What they have accumulated may fall into the hands of a stranger. Or a man may have a bunch of kids, and his accumulations are swallowed up by the cost of taking care of them (v 3).

In v 9, Qoheleth says that the sight of the eyes is better than desire. Tremper Longman says that ‘The general idea of the proverb is that what is present in hand is better than what one only desires and does not have.” Good advice! But I don’t think that, here at least, Qoheleth is intending it to be good advice. Rather, my impression is that Qoheleth is talking about people who only have desire, meaning that they don’t get to enjoy what is “present at hand.” They work a lot, with little to show for it. As v 7 says, people labor for their mouths, but their appetite is not satisfied.

But Qoheleth realizes in v 10 that God has fore-ordained these things, and that resistance to God (like resistance to the Borg) is futile.

In v 12, Qoheleth wonders if we can truly know what is good for human beings, when we don’t even live that long. The Artscroll commentary says (based on the eighteenth century Jewish writing Metzudas David) that “only a small minority have the intellect to comprehend what is the proper course for a man to take during his short life”. When I am older, I’ll have wisdom about what I should have done when I was younger. But it will be too late then, for I’ll be older. It’s like Ms. McCluskey told Bree on Desperate Housewives a few weeks ago: “Risks you don’t take will become regrets before you know it” (or something like that).

Some commentators I read noted that Qoheleth in Ecclesiastes 6 contradicts his sentiments in Ecclesiastes 3:11: that God makes all things beautiful in their time, implying that we should trust God. In Ecclesiastes 6, by contrast, Qoheleth is saying that God is responsible for the unprofitable toil in life. But commentators then say that we shouldn’t look for flawless consistency in Qoheleth: Qoheleth is musing.

Ecclesiastes 5 and Vows

For my weekly quiet time, I studied Ecclesiastes 5. The chapter warns against talking a lot to God, for, in our many ramblings, we may end up making God a promise that we can’t keep. Then, when God, an angel, or a temple messenger (however one understands malach in v 6) comes to collect, or to judge us for not paying what we vowed, we end up offering a poor excuse, and God destroys the work of our hands.

Personally, I will continue to talk a lot to God. “Pray without ceasing,” I Thessalonians 5:17 says in the King James Version. To echo Philip Yancey, I pray for the company. I need to talk to someone about my life, with its ups and downs, and, in my opinion, God is there to listen to me, even though Qoheleth is correct to note that God is in heaven, while I am on earth. But I’m also in favor of being a man of my word: In my ramblings before God, I should take heed not to promise something that I won’t be willing to deliver. Christian commentators whom I read today said that this sort of principle carries over into the New Testament. In their interpretation of Acts 5, God struck down Ananias and Sapphira because they promised to give God all the money that they made from selling their land, but they did not deliver.

There’s more I can say about this. When I was young (maybe in my teens), I once promised God that I’d never again commit a certain act. But I broke that promise many times because, well, I’m human. I don’t think God has cursed me and my family on account of that. But, in my opinion, that doesn’t give me a free ride to make more frivolous promises to God, and so I don’t make promises that I may not be willing to keep. I wonder why I should even have to make a vow to get God to hear and answer my prayers. Shouldn’t God’s love for me be a sufficient reason for him to provide for my needs, to bless me, to comfort me, etc.? But people in the Hebrew Bible made promises—they gave God a sacrifice if God answered their prayers. I think it’s good to be thankful and to express that thanksgiving in some tangible manner, but I don’t want to make promises that I may regret in the future.

Ecclesiastes 4

For my weekly quiet time this week, I studied Ecclesiastes 4. It reminded me of a variety of things.

Its statement that it’s better to have a little with rest than a lot with turmoil called to my mind last Sunday’s Brothers and Sisters, which I re-watched last night. Kitty’s husband has passed on, and Kitty does not know what to do with her life. She was offered the chairmanship of the Republican National Committee (replacing Michael Steele, I take it), but she hasn’t accepted the job yet. Her mother, Nora, gave her a copy of Henry David Thoreau’s Walden, in which Nora had crossed out the masculine words and pronouns and substituted feminine ones, for Kitty’s benefit. The passage Nora had Kitty read was the one in which Thoreau said (with Nora’s substitutions) that, if a woman finds that she can’t keep up with others, then she needs to take time for herself so she can hear her own inner music. I was glad that I watched this episode a second time around, for I wasn’t paying attention to the quotation of Thoreau the first time that I watched it.

I find that I have difficulty keeping up with others. I’m in a Ph.D. program, but, unlike many of my colleagues, I’m not a walking encyclopedia. I haven’t written books or articles, nor do I have a clear idea what I can write that would be published. I don’t have a clear vision about what or how I can teach religion. To be honest, I’m not even sure if academia appeals to me, with its ruthlessness, its personality conflicts, and its preoccupation with what strikes me as trivialities. And I sometimes feel that my areas of interest aren’t really the same as much of academia’s. It’s like I’m on another planet!

But I’m taking the time to hear my own inner music. I’m reading books for my comps, looking for things in them that interest me (as well as identifying the parts that I have to know for the tests). But I’m also reading other scholarly and religious books that intrigue me. I’m not forsaking academia, but I’m enjoying it in my own way—in a manner that brings me rest rather than turmoil on account of me not “keeping up”. Maybe productivity will come out of my approach—in the form of articles, books, classes I can teach, etc. Or perhaps I’ll keep reading books and blogging about them, as I enjoy doing right now. Personally, I wouldn’t mind working at the Goodwill during the day, and reading and blogging at night! I’d like to do my work in a state of some rest.

Qoheleth’s statement also calls to my mind a woman whom I heard recently. She said that she was once a top salesperson in her field, and she made loads of money. But she has given up the long hours and big money for a simpler life, in which she can cultivate her spirituality. And she is happier as a result. Better is a little with rest, than a lot with turmoil.

Qoheleth also talks about the importance of companionship. For Qoheleth, friends can help us when we have problems, and Qoheleth also mentions friends (perhaps they were travellers) who keep each other warm at night. I remember attending an Intervarsity Bible study, in which the leader was discussing this passage in Ecclesiastes 4. He said that we can write our dissertation and neglect building friendships within the Christian community, but, if we follow that path, we’ll basically be left with ourselves—alone. Someone in the group then said that people like to interpret this passage tritely—”it’s good to have friends”—but they fail to realize that, in the ancient world, a person needed others to keep warm in the cold. Friendship was a necessity!

Someone else said that two Christians could be bound together by their common love for God, and a young woman then remarked that, if you’re not getting along with Christians, then that’s an indication that you’re not getting along with God.

I hated that Bible study. I have a hard time making friends. I feel alone in Christian groups. I do not feel bound together with other Christians based on our common love for God. And, quite frankly, I don’t get along with Christians, nor do I know how to do so. Some of it’s my social awkwardness. Some of it is because, right now, I’m not on the same page that they are.

But I can see Qoheleth’s point that it’s good to receive help and support from others, and to give it as well. There have been times when I’ve had problems—with my computer, or my finances, or simply knowing what to do in life (e.g., How can I stay cool in the summer, without increasing my electric bill with the air conditioner?), or in terms of my health. I’m grateful for my friends and family who have helped me out, and I’m not sure what I’d do without them. There are plenty of times when I want to be alone, for people are complicated, and I can easily be hurt or offended. That’s one reason that I’m hesitant to make friendships. But I can’t make it through life all by myself.

Qoheleth then talks about the rise and fall of the powerful and powerless. He discusses a poor, wise youth who manages to replace an old, foolish king. But, in the broad scheme of things, that’s just a blip on the radar screen. Several people lived before this political upheaval, and many will live after it, without even remembering it.

That’s sobering—how things that are considered important today won’t be deemed as important years from now. But this reminds me of something I once heard Joyce Meyer say: she remarked that she’s not expecting to be a prominent preacher forever, and so she’s not going to let her fame go to her head. There will come a time when she must decrease, and God will have a different stage of life for her. I admired her sense of perspective. Fame comes, and fame goes. But what do we do when we’re famous and not famous? What kind of people are we? What matters to us in these different situations of life? These are the important questions.

Ecclesiastes 3

For my weekly quiet time, I studied Ecclesiastes 3.

My interpretation is this:

As Tremper Longman III says in his commentary on Ecclesiastes, “God has established periods, moments, or times for a wide diversity of emotions and activities”, and Qoheleth wonders, “Is the world a wonderfully ordered and varied place of joy?” In Ecclesiastes 3, Qoheleth tries to assure himself that it is. After thinking in Ecclesiastes 2 that there’s no point in working hard, Qoheleth now tells himself that God makes everything beautiful in its time, and that people should enjoy their labor and the fruits thereof, for they won’t live forever. Rather, they will die as the beasts. We don’t know if there’s an afterlife—if the spirit of man goes to heaven, whereas the spirit of beasts goes to the earth—and so we’d might as well enjoy this life as if it’s all we’ve got. And, when Qoheleth notices the injustice in Israel’s judicial system, he reminds himself that God is the ultimate judge, and a just one at that.

In my opinion, Qoheleth is wrestling with the apparent vanity of the world around him, and he’s seeking comfort in the things he’s learned about God from his religion. Sometimes, that cuts the mustard. Sometimes, it doesn’t.

The religious interactions with Ecclesiastes 3 that I read and heard today largely acknowledged Qoheleth’s embrace of divine providence and the way that God has made the world, but they had problems with the claim in chapter 3 that human beings are like the beasts. They contend that Qoheleth is seeking to refute that notion. For them, Qoheleth’s point is that human beings are not like the animals and do not share their fate, for God has placed eternity in people’s hearts, and the spirits of humans go to heaven, whereas the spirits of the beasts go down to the earth. The sermons that I heard (mostly from Calvary Chapel) took an opportunity to criticize evolution. “We are not advanced animals, as evolutionists tell us!”

I appreciated this passage in Brian Gault’s article on Ecclesiastes 3:11 (the verse that mentions olam in the heart) for Bibliotheca Sacra, a journal of the conservative Dallas Theological Seminary:

“The interpretation of many scholars and translations, ‘a consciousness of or yearning for that which transcends the present,’ seems foreign to Qoheleth’s focus on life ‘under the sun’ and in conflict with his skepticism about the afterlife.”

Tremper Longman is another evangelical scholar who acknowledges that Qoheleth is skeptical about the existence of an afterlife.

Some evangelicals and religious interpreters try to reconcile Qoheleth with a belief in an afterlife. Some of that flows from stuff that’s in Ecclesiastes, such as Ecclesiastes 3:21 and 12:7. Ecclesiastes 12:7 states that the spirit returns to God who gave it. Some of the religious interpreters’ desire to reconcile Qoheleth with an afterlife flows from their view that Ecclesiastes is God’s word and is thus consistent with other parts of God’s revelation, which explicitly affirm an afterlife.

Other evangelicals, however, disagree with Qoheleth’s skepticism regarding the afterlife, and yet derive lessons from his struggle.

Ecclesiastes 2 and the Softening of Qoheleth’s Nihilism

Today is a Sabbath, the Last Great Day, and so I did my weekly quiet time in Ecclesiastes 2.

A question that’s been swimming around in my mind has been, “How have religious interpreters of Ecclesiastes dealt with the book’s notion that there is no afterlife, when they themselves believe in an afterlife?” Last week, I read Ecclesiastes Rabbah 1:4, which states that, while Ecclesiastes is correct to say that there’s no reward “under the sun”, that doesn’t exclude a reward for the righteous above the sun, namely, in heaven.

I observed a similar approach in today’s study, as rabbis distinguished between this world and the World to Come. In Ecclesiastes Rabbah 2:1, we read that Torah study and prosperity in this world are vanity, since people can forget what they learn from the Torah, and (as Qoheleth says in Ecclesiastes 2) their wealth can easily be bequeathed to fools after their death. Solomon is therefore correct when he discusses the futility of wisdom and of prosperity in this world. In the World to Come, however, the rules will be different. Israelites won’t forget the Torah that they learn, for God will write his law on their minds and their hearts (Jeremiah 31:33). People’s hard-earned prosperity won’t fall into the hands of fools, for Isaiah 65:22 predicts that the Israelites won’t build, only for another to inhabit.

At the same time, there are rabbis who deny that Solomon is even talking about the labor of Torah when he discusses the futility of labor. Ecclesiastes Rabbah 1:4, for example, states that Solomon is saying in Ecclesiastes 1:3 that “his labor”—the earthly labor of human beings—does not profit, but that doesn’t apply to labor in Torah, which is profitable.

Today, in my study of Ecclesiastes 2 and its interpreters, I encountered other ideas. In Ecclesiastes 2, Qoheleth says that, while wisdom is better than folly, the fact that both wise people and fools die puts a damper on having wisdom: why be wise if you’ll meet the same end as fools? That appears to be a denial of an afterlife, or at least Qoheleth doesn’t seem to conceive of the possibility that there is a post-mortem reward for the wise. How have religious interpreters dealt with this?

Ecclesiastes Rabbah 2:18 basically disagrees with Qoheleth. Qoheleth says in Ecclesiastes 2:15 that there is no remembrance for the wise and the fools, and Ecclesiastes Rabbah states that Qoheleth was remiss to think that. After all, Israelites appeal to the memory of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel (Exodus 32:13) long after their deaths, but the heathen do not appeal to the memory of Nimrod. Abraham, Isaac, and Israel (the wise) have been remembered, whereas such is not the case for Nimrod, a fool. This passage in Ecclesiastes Rabbah doesn’t pertain to the afterlife, but we do see that it attempts to undercut Qoheleth’s nihilism, affirming instead that being wise is worthwhile.

The Jewish commentator Rashi tries to undercut Qoheleth’s nihilism without disagreeing with the biblical text. In Ecclesiastes 2:15, Qoheleth asks why he became wise, since what happens to the fool (death) will happen to him. Qoheleth then asserts that this is vanity. For Rashi, Qoheleth is saying in v 15 that his nihilistic statement is vanity: Qoheleth flirts with the notion that the same end meets the righteous and the wicked, right before he repudiates it. In his comment on v 16, in which Qoheleth asks how the wise shall die with the fool, Rashi treats Qoheleth’s question as rhetorical, as if behind Qoheleth’s question there lurks a sentiment that “Of course the wise won’t perish like the fools!” V 16 also states that there’s no remembrance forever of the wise and the foolish, but Rashi essentially ignores this, commenting that the passage teaches that the heroism and success of the wicked are forgotten: Rashi limits the statement’s application to the wicked, when Qoheleth is talking about both the wise and the foolish.

The eighteenth century Calvinist commentator John Gill says that Ecclesiastes 2 is talking about wisdom and intelligence about the world, not spiritual wisdom, which profits people eternally. The following passage humbles me, as one who thinks that I’ll achieve a degree of immortality through my writing:

“a wise man may not only be caressed in life, but may be remembered after death for a while; the fame of him may continue for a little time, and his works and writings may be applauded; but by and by rises up another genius brighter than he, or at least is so thought, and outshines him; and then his fame is obscured, his writings are neglected and despised, and he and his works buried in oblivion; and this is the common course of things.”

Essentially, many of the preachers I heard go the route of the rabbis and John Gill, saying that this life is pointless if you’re not right with God, and so you should be right with God so as to find satisfaction in this life, and to live forever in an afterlife.

In my study today, I also observed a tendency among commentators to soften the nihilism of Ecclesiastes 2:18-26. Qoheleth asks why he should work so hard, when his wealth could easily pass on to a fool. Christian preachers and commentators note that Solomon’s wealth indeed did pass on to fools, namely, Rehoboam and Jeroboam! But many see in vv 24-26 Qoheleth’s answer to his dilemma. Both evangelist Jimmy Swaggart and Harvard professor Peter Machinist make the same sort of point: that Qoheleth advocates enjoying one’s work and the fruits thereof with gratitude to God, without worrying about what will happen to one’s wealth after death; the wicked, however, are vexed, for they are obsessed with accumulating wealth that will fall into the hands of the righteous, under the direction of God. But doesn’t Qoheleth say that it’s vanity and vexation of spirit for the wealth of the wicked to pass on to the righteous? Here at least, Qoheleth doesn’t appear to be all that positive when it comes to reward-and-punishment scenarios, either because he doesn’t believe in them, or he sees them as pointless even if they are true. And they’re not entirely true, for wealth can easily fall into the hands of fools, not only the righteous.

Another thought: Qoheleth may be relevant to people who are materialistic, who work a lot for luxuries that they do not need. Qoheleth does well to ask, “What is the point of that?” It’s better to enjoy one’s work and life itself, without looking to material things or lusts of the flesh as if they will satisfy the cravings of the human heart. But what about people who toil long hours for their very survival? How can they enjoy work and life? Qoheleth is aware of this kind of problem, for he talks about oppression later in his book. But how would his advice of “Enjoy work and life” speak to their situation?

First Isaiah Affirmed or Superceded?; Pure Gentiles

1. In my reading today of Messianism Within the Scriptural Scrolls of Isaiah, Randall Heskett argues that Cyrus within the Book of Isaiah as a whole has been de-Messianized, even though Cyrus is called God’s Messiah in Second Isaiah (Isaiah 45:1).

My understanding of Randall’s argument is as follows: Granted, the Book of Isaiah as a whole acknowledges that Cyrus defeated Israel’s enemy, Babylon, brought Israel’s exile to an end, and contributed to the restoration of Jerusalem. In doing these things, Cyrus acted as God’s instrument, as Assyria and Babylon likewise served God’s purposes (only Assyria and Babylon expressed God’s wrath, whereas Cyrus was an instrument of God’s mercy and goodness towards Israel). But Cyrus was not a Messiah in the sense that Isaiah as a whole depicts the Messiah: a Davidid who would promote righteousness and preside over an era of paradise. In the Book of Isaiah as a whole, Randall argues, Cyrus is overshadowed by the Davidic Messiah. Randall maintains that the predictions of eschatological paradise in Isaiah 65:17-25 pertain to the Davidic Messiah, even though this passage does not explicitly mention the Davidic monarch. Randall notes that Isaiah 65:17-24 cites Isaiah 11, which actually does concern the righteous Davidic king who would preside over a time of peace and paradise.

As I said in my post, Kenites in the White Hats, Except…; Literary Simultaneity, Paul Hanson has a different approach: he believes that Third Isaiah was opposed to the reinstitution of the Davidic monarchy, and (if I’m not mistaken) the Zadokite priesthood as well. During my thesis defense, he asked me why a canonical approach to Isaiah could not assume that Second-Third Isaiah’s opposition to the reinstitution of the Davidic monarchy superceded First Isaiah’s support of the institution. Maybe God changed his mind and decided to accomplish his eschatological restoration apart from the seed of David! (Dr. Hanson didn’t explicitly say this, but both he and John Townsend, who was my second reader, made the point that God can change his mind.) When Third Isaiah refers to Isaiah 11, therefore, is he affirming everything in that chapter, including its prediction of a righteous Davidic king? Or is Third Isaiah saying that many of the eschatological hopes of Isaiah 11 are still valid, but that God won’t use a Davidic king to bring them to pass? Rather, God will use Cyrus, the servant, and the nation of Israel.

2. In my reading today of Judaism: The Evidence of the Mishnah, Jacob Neusner states (on page 102), “Gentiles are not susceptible to this form of uncleanness (M. Neg. 3:1; 11:1; 12:1).” Gentiles do not contract impurity from leprosy, neither do their clothes or their houses. That only applies to Israelites. This interests me because you’d think that impurity is impurity and defiles the land, regardless of who the person is. But the Mishnah says otherwise.

I was thinking some about the Torah and the Gentiles during my weekly quiet time in Ecclesiastes 1. In Ecclesiastes Rabbah 1:28, we read that some Gentiles have abstained from swine’s flesh, but only the Israelites will be rewarded by God for doing so, for the Israelites avoid pork in obedience to God’s command. A note said that, according to the passage, some Gentiles abstained from pork and benefitted thereby because they were protected from ills. This surprised me somewhat, for the popular Christian, Jewish, and scholarly view is that the Israelite food laws had nothing to do with health, but rather with ritual purity. But here, a note is saying that abstention from pork is good for one’s health, according to the rabbinic document of Ecclesiastes Rabbah. At the same time, it affirms that God gave the food laws to Israel, not to the Gentiles.

Ecclesiastes 1

I studied Ecclesiastes 1 for my weekly quiet time today. Qoheleth is bored with pleasures and distressed by wisdom, and he feels that nature is one big monotonous cycle, in which nature keeps going on, even as generations come and go.

Some points:

1. What is a Qoheleth? There’s actually a lot of unclarity about that within biblical scholarship. I side with those who consider it a function rather than a nickname for the author, for the word “Qoheleth” appears with the definite article in Ecclesiastes 12:8 (the Qoheleth). I also think that the title “Qoheleth” has to do with speaking before a group of people, for the Hebrew word qahal means “assembly”, plus Ecclesiastes 12:9 states that Qoheleth taught people wisdom.

2. Ecclesiastes 1:12 is intriguing, for it says that Qoheleth was king in Jerusalem. “Was”? Not “is”? A Jewish targum has a legend that explains this: Solomon was getting too big for his britches, and so God sends the demon Ashmodai to remove Solomon from his throne. Solomon then wanders around the world and rebukes it. In one version of the story, Solomon eventually gets his throne back.

I like this story. It adds a cozy, bed-time story element to my study of Scripture, stuff that’s ”Church of James Pate’s Brain” material when I try to fall asleep. It explains why Solomon said he “was” king. And it also accounts for another puzzling feature in Ecclesiastes: the author complains about oppression (Ecclesiastes 4:1-3; 5:8-9). Would this come from a king, who had the power to punish oppressors? The author appears to write from the standpoint of a powerless onlooker, not a king. But suppose Solomon wasn’t king for a while, and actually got to look at the oppression in his kingdom as a regular guy.

I’m not saying I believe this, but it’s interesting.

3. The Jewish interpretations I read tried to add some hope: Sure, life is boring, but the study of the Torah is interesting, because it gives us light and continually teaches us new insights! Yes, life is hopeless “under the sun”, but we will be happy “above the sun”, in heaven.

For me, Bible study and blogging give me goals. Do they completely satisfy me? No. But they entertain me, make me think, and give structure to my time. Up to now, they’ve been interesting. I hope they remain that way!

Was Solomon Wrong to Ask for Wisdom?

I finished David Carr's From D to Q yesterday. I made an error in my last post: I said that Carr thought that the Deuteronomist inserted the part of I Kings 3 in which Solomon goes to Jerusalem to sacrifice. Actually, he says that an Adonai editor did that. The Adonai editor overlaps with the Deuteronomist in areas, but they're not the same.

What stuck out to me yesterday was Carr's treatment of the Book of Ecclesiastes. According to Carr, Ecclesiastes is a "counter-textual" reading of I Kings 3. In I Kings 3, Solomon asks for wisdom rather than riches, and God applauds his request. In Ecclesiastes, however, the author (who may purport to be Solomon) says that wisdom isn't all it's cracked up to be. I glanced over Ecclesiastes 1-2 to see what he means, and there's a sense that wisdom leads to despair. Moreover, the author wonders why wisdom is so great, when everyone is going to die anyway, both the wise and the fools.

This reminds me of a sermon that I heard many years ago. The speaker was at David Antion's church, and his argument was that perhaps Solomon erred when he asked God for wisdom. Many in my family loved the sermon because it thought outside of the box. I thought it was off-base, though, because God explicitly told Solomon in I Kings 3 that God approved of Solomon's request. But the idea that there were different perspectives in the Bible wasn't on my radar at the time.

I may ask my dad if he still has that sermon when I go home for Thanksgiving. Why did the preacher of that sermon think that wisdom was flawed? Critical scholars of the Bible maintain that the author of Ecclesiastes did not believe in an afterlife, and that's why he thought life was so futile and adopted an "eat, drink, be merry, and enjoy God while you're alive" sort of attitude. But I don't think ministers in the Armstrongite tradition had that interpretation of Ecclesiastes. Maybe the preacher of the sermon said that Solomon's wisdom led to despair because he saw how pointless so many things are: Solomon got bored.

Ecclesiastes 9:4-10 and the Afterlife

Soul sleep is the belief that the dead are unconscious until their resurrection. For advocates of this view, the soul does not exist somewhere in a conscious state during that interval.

Armstrongites like to appeal to Ecclesiastes 9:5 to support soul sleep. They usually quote only part of the verse, the part that says "the dead know not any thing[.]" I'd like to post the verse in its context, then I'll make some comments. I'll use the King James Version because that's the one Armstongites tend to gravitate towards

4 For to him that is joined to all the living there is hope: for a living dog is better than a dead lion.
5 For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not any thing, neither have they any more a reward; for the memory of them is forgotten.
6 Also their love, and their hatred, and their envy, is now perished; neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the sun.
7 Go thy way, eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy wine with a merry heart; for God now accepteth thy works.
8 Let thy garments be always white; and let thy head lack no ointment.
9 Live joyfully with the wife whom thou lovest all the days of the life of thy vanity, which he hath given thee under the sun, all the days of thy vanity: for that is thy portion in this life, and in thy labour which thou takest under the sun.
10 Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.

This Ecclesiastes passage seems not only to dismiss the immortality of the soul, but the resurrection as well. V 4 says that the living have hope, which implies that the dead do not. V 5 states that the dead have no more reward, which contradicts the idea that there's a resurrection in which the righteous will be rewarded. V 6 affirms that the dead have no more portion in anything done under the sun. Would the author of Ecclesiastes say this, if he believed the dead would rise again and once more be able to have a portion of life? (I guess one way to get around this, however, is to point out that the sun will be abolished after the second resurrection; Revelation 21:23; 22:5). VV 7-10 essentially say, "Enjoy life while you can, because it's not going to last forever!" Why would Qoheleth say this, if he thought there would be an afterlife?

Jews have had different ideas on what to do with Ecclesiastes. There was dispute about its canonicity at one point. The Jewish Encyclopedia article on death mentions the following interpretation: "The dead are supposed to take an active interest in worldly affairs. The assertion of Kohelet that 'The dead know not anything' (Eccl. ix, 5) is interpreted. 'The wicked who are considered dead while yet alive'" (Shab. 13b?). Here, Ecclesiastes is treated as inspired, since Jewish exegetes try to reconcile it with their belief in the consciousness of dead people. Essentially, they say that Ecclesiastes 9:5 means that spiritually dead people are pretty dumb.

Sounds interesting, but it doesn't exactly fit the context. Is there a way for Christians to find religious value in Ecclesiastes, without embracing what it says about death being the end? Perhaps. I Corinthians 15 says Christ's resurrection is the guarantee of our resurrection, and Hebrews 12:14-15 states that Christ delivered those who were in bondage on account of their fear of death. Maybe Ecclesiastes can remind us that many people prior to the coming of Christ were afraid to die, and we can then appreciate all the more that Christ destroyed death through his resurrection.

Canon and Ben Sira

Source: M. Gilbert, "Wisdom Literature," Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period, ed. Michael E. Stone (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984) 300.

On Ben Sira:

"In the first century C.E. the book continued to circulate, as at Masada and Qumran. But nothing is known about the use made of it or the interpretation it was given in Judaism. There is no trace of its canonicity being debated at the synod of Jamnia (Yavneh) at the end of the century. One even has the impression that no objections were raised to its not being part of the Jewish canon of scripture. The opinion of Rabbi Akiba (d. after 135 C.E.) is of great importance. According to P.T. Sanhedrin 10, 28a, Akiba held that the book of Ben Sira was one of the 'exterior books, the reading of which excludes from the world to come.' According to Moore, the 'exterior books' would be the equivalent of 'the books of the minim', meaning those of heretics, as can be seen from B.T. Sanhedrin 100b, and probably according to T. Yadaim 2:13, Christian books. But Ginsberg has shown that 'exterior books' are simply 'books which are not part of the canon of scripture'. According to Rabbi Akiba, they could not be used for public reading or for school instruction. But Ben Sira could be read in private. And the many quotations from it given by the Tannaim and the Amoraim show that it was highly esteemed."

Ben Sira may have considered himself divinely-inspired. In Sirach 24:33, he says that he will, "pour out teaching like prophecy, and leave it to all future generations" (NRSV).

I'm not sure why some believed he belonged in the biblical canon, or why others did not. I've learned at least one thing from my study of the deutero-canonical writings: the post-apostolic fathers disagreed about the status of what Protestants call the "apocrypha." And scholars usually seek ideological reasons that Jews rejected the deutero-canonical writings: Ben Sira, for example, doesn't believe in an afterlife.

But there are books that made it into the Jewish canon, and they don't really believe in an afterlife either. Job is one example. Ecclesiastes is another. And, as we saw in Uninspired Canonical Books?, rabbis debated about Ecclesiastes' inspiration.

Some think that the deutero-canonical writings were excluded because the Christians used them. That's what a Catholic apologist said in a debate with James White. Maybe, but I don't see how the "apocrypha" supports Christian doctrine more than other books of the Hebrew Bible.

One professor told me years ago that the problem was their language: they weren't in Hebrew or Aramaic. But some of them had Hebrew or Aramaic originals (i.e., Ben Sira, possibly Tobit), so language can't be the only factor behind their rejection.

I've read somewhere that the rabbis closed the canon with Ezra, implying that they viewed Ezra as the last prophet. And that fits the Jewish canon quite well. The Hebrew Bible does not contain a prophet after the time of Ezra. While liberal scholars date Daniel to the second century B.C.E., the book presents itself as exilic, and that's probably what the rabbis went with when they included it in the canon. And Jewish tradition affirms that Ezra wrote Chronicles, the last book of the Hebrew Bible.

Why did Christians accept the deutero-canonical writings? I'm not sure. Maybe it was because Jews in the diaspora embraced them (for whatever reason). Or perhaps they weren't eager to close the canon with Ezra, since they believed that prophecy still continued. After all, they had their own set of new biblical books, which post-dated Ezra by over five centuries. We call it the New Testament. So why wouldn't they believe that books after Ezra could be inspired?

The Palestinian Jews, however, may have desired a clear cut-off point because of the instability of prophecy. As a professor at Hebrew Union College once said, prophets create instability, since they can claim a divine revelation that undermines the social structure. And, in the time of the Romans, the Jews felt they didn't need prophets who continually instigated political revolution. That may be why they made Ezra the cut-off man.

Elitist Wisdom Literature

Source: M. Gilbert, "Wisdom Literature," Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period, ed. Michael E. Stone (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984) 283.

"Solomon played a still more important part in the development of wisdom in Israel. As organizer of the new state, he had to have capable administrators around him, and it is possible that schools or academies were set up for this purpose, to train the flower of the youth adequately, since they were called to take on responsibilities in the city or state."

I'm not sure what biblical scholars say about the authorship of Proverbs, but M. Gilbert treats wisdom literature as an elitist exercise. And I've heard this from other sources as well. For example, Proverbs and Ben Sira say that people shouldn't provide surety for someone else's debt, since the indebted one may not be able to pay his debtor back. A TA at Harvard said such a perspective reflects the elitist, conservative worldview of wisdom literature. And it wasn't always too generous (though it does have a lot supporting almsgiving)!

I think an elitist mileau may play a role in how wisdom literature addresses evil. Proverbs assumes that the wicked are punished and the righteous are rewarded. And Ecclesiastes seems to think it strange that life has problems and unfairness, when that would be pretty obvious to your average Israelite.

At the same time, Ben Sira writes as someone who sees social mobility: the poor can easily become rich, and the rich can easily become poor. For him, it all depends on God's favor to a person. Would Ben Sira write this, if he could take his comfortable position for granted? And Ben Sira also prays for deliverance from his enemies. How comfortable was he, socially speaking?

I'm not sure what role wisdom literature played when Ben Sira wrote. At that time, Israel did not have a monarchy, and I assume she was ruled by a foreign power, since the Hasmoneans had not yet declared Israel's independence. But maybe he was still part of an elite that trained people for power, for some Judeans had to run the show, even though ultimate power laid overseas.

Pre-existent Souls?

Source: A.A. Long, "Roman Philosophy," The Cambridge Companion to Greek and Roman Philosophy, ed. David Sedley (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003) 210.

"Tertullian in his work On the Soul draws heavily on Stoicism, aligning himself against Plato with the Stoics' identification of the soul with 'breath' and also with that school's doctrine that the soul originates at birth."

Did we pre-exist? That's something I've always wondered. Suppose I were not born to my parents, either because they didn't meet or the James Pate sperm didn't make it to my mom's egg. Would my soul be someplace else? Because I have an elevated sense of my own importance (unfortunately), I'd like to think I'm not the product of chance or other people's decisions.

Plato believed that the soul is immortal, meaning it pre-existed our birth and survives our death. He talks about this in Phaedo and the Republic. But the Stoics apparently maintained that our existence originated at birth, and the Christian father Tertullian picked that up. I wonder what other Christians thought about this issue.

What's the Bible say about this? The King James Version of Ecclesiastes 12:7 states that "the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." Is the spirit the soul? Or is it the breath of life, which God gave to each human being when he animated him or her in the womb? Maybe it can be either one.

In either case, God is intimately involved in our creation, meaning we're not accidents, whether our souls pre-existed our births or not.