From: Ecclesiastes
and the Perpetual Paradoxes of Life Return to Home
By
Roland H. Worth, Jr. © 2012
[Page 130]
Chapter Nine:
The Paradox of Business Commitments:
Work Hard but Remember
Your Religious Duties as Well
(11:1-12:14)
The thrust of this final
section is that while our efforts will often be rewarded, there are always
hidden obstacles that may undermine full success. Does this not belong under the labels of
“ironic” and “absurd” as well? Think the
laments that occur afterwards:
“I’ve worked hard!”
“I’ve done everything—and more than
that—than anyone would expect!”
“I even had a wonderful product and a
product people wanted!”
And yet somewhere, somehow, things went
awry and the effort failed.
Rather than despair
because of this absurdity and not even try, one should still work at
accomplishing our success with our full ability and effort. And not use that or our enjoyments as an
excuse to ignore our religious-moral obligations either. Hard work, optimism, enjoyment, duty—all,
oddly enough, locked into a linking package of obligation, privilege, and
responsibility.
[Page 131]
Flow of the Argument
A.
Be daring and
generous, expecting an ample blessing
for the effort (11:1-2)
B.
Yet recognize
that there are things beyond control
and daydreaming it isn’t so won’t change that reality
(11:3-4)
C.
Since one can
never be sure what will actually accomplish the desired result, work at
everything with commitment (11:5-6)
D. Enjoy life as you work hard—while you are still able
to (11:7-10)
E.
Remember your
spiritual obligations while you seek happiness (12:1-8)
F.
Although he
himself had written much of value
service to God should
be the foundation of our
existence (12:9-14)
A. Be Daring
and Generous,
Expecting an Ample Blessing
for the Effort
(11:1-2)
Two aspects of
generosity are mentioned, not as contradictory but as complimentary. The first might be called business optimism,
“Cast your bread[1]
upon the waters, for you will find it after many days” (11:1-2). Probably built upon the allusion of profits
from the sea trade,[2]
it likely developed into a proverb for the willingness to take calculated--but
responsible--risks in order to obtain profits that would only show up in the
distant future.
When Solomon entered into joint venture
agreements with Hiram of Lebanon and the two sent out combined fleets to
foreign ports (1 Kings 10:21-22), he was engaged in just such a show of
economic optimism. The profits were
probable but, as with any fleet at sea, the certainty was far from
guaranteed.
In the case of Solomon, 1 Kings
The second strategy
advocated could be considered as interlocked with the above principle: share your risk with others--and he gives the
number of “seven” and “eight” as illustrative.[3] Alternatively, he might mean one should divide
his freight and goods into seven or eight separate shipments in order to
accomplish the [Page 132] same
diminishing of risk.[4] Literalism is likely not intended. Rather it is probably simply “an idiom
meaning, ‘several,’ ‘many.’ ”[5]
Since one does not know what “evil” will
occur--in the sense of unpleasant and destructive events rather than,
necessarily, morally evil ones--that means one does not take the risk of
carrying the entire burden on our own shoulders. The modern parallel adage would be, “ ‘don’t
put all your eggs on one basket;’ that is, diversify, for no one knows where or
in what form evil will come.”[6]
The Biblical text certainly indicates that
Solomon recognized the need for such prudence.
By splitting the economic costs with Hiram in his foreign shipping
ventures, the Israelite king reduced his own exposure to loss. It is also quite possible that both of these
men had wealthy aristocrats in their own nations as coinvestors,
though with the monarchs carrying the bulk of the costs, risks, and potential
gains. Indeed, the inherent wisdom of
“shared risk,” due to its inbred merits, would surely have been appealing to a
man of the astuteness of Solomon.
In modern life, there
is a tendency (especially in America) for us to want the return on our endeavor
to be tomorrow—not some more distant point, as would be the case in the
shipping and trading business of antiquity.
Truth be told, we would be happiest if it had already occurred
“yesterday,” chronic impatience being perhaps one of the most obvious
characteristics of the American personality.
The aspect of shared risk has more appeal for that is what the very
popular stock market involves: although
we may lose a lot, we will never loose what we would if we were the sole owner
of the corporation.
Yet this prudence wars with the sense of
selfishness and greediness: after all,
if all the risk is ours, so will be all the inevitable
profits. “Inevitable”
being inserted mentally. Risk
battles against prudence.
Both verses, however,
could have generosity and charitableness in mind—or the author could have
economic investments in mind in verse 1 and then shifts to charitableness in
verse 2 to emphasize that the two should go hand-in-hand.[7] The reasoning would be that now you
are riding “high on the hog” but if things don’t go well you may need someone
else’s help yourself.
Hence be generous whenever the occasion presents itself. “Seven was the number of totality or
completeness. Eight
must, therefore, be considered a way of saying, ‘Go to the limit, and then go a
little bit further’ ” in providing that assistance.[8]
The charity
interpretation of verse 1 goes back at least as far as the Targum
on Ecclesiastes (and must have been around considerably longer before becoming
embodied in that translation/paraphrase/interpretation of the text), “Give your
nourishing bread to the poor who go in ships upon the surface of the water, for
after a period of many days you will find its reward in the world-to-come.”[9]
In this approach there is a fascinating
blend of charity and commerce: you are
to be charitable, but to seamen in particular.
Yet there would be a kind of logic to specifying seamen: these would be people (unlike those of your
own town) whom you might never see again.
Furthermore, being mere seamen, they would be far more likely to be in
need than their captains or the owners of the vessels. Furthermore, when temporarily in your
community, they would be the ones least likely to have any relatives or friends
to assist them in their time of need.
[Page 133] From this seaman based charity gloss, it has
commonly been expanded into an axiom encouraging charity in general. To us, the idiom of casting bread upon water
seems an odd one by which to express the trait.
On the other hand the Egyptian Instruction of Onchsheshonqy
(which comes from the wisdom literature of that nation) uses the same image for
doing good for others, “Do a good deed and throw it in
the water; when it dries you will find it.”[10]
Part (though only part) of the difficulty
in translating the image from ancient culture into our own is that the word
“bread” conveyed a significantly different meaning. “Ancient bread was not made in large loaves,
which would sink immediately. What is
envisioned is a pita, a thin, flat and probably hard disc that will
float at least briefly on the current, until it is carried out of sight.”[11]
Even so, the literal act seems inherently
wasteful (unless you are feeding ducks!).
If we consider the two verses as an unit—with the same idea of charity
being present in both verses--the idea would, perhaps, be to be generous even
though it does not make sound economic sense. You are wasting what could be consumed; you
are throwing away what could be invested.
But you do so on the recognition of the principle
that a “wasted” investment in people may well come to benefit you personally if
your worldly situation should plummet.[12] The deed will be washed away from your
memory—just as the waves wash away the sand or move away a boat—and long after
it has “sailed” out of consciousness it will come back to assist you.[13]
Certainly if the author of the book be
Solomon, this advice did not come from personal experience of suffering for
there is no indication that he ever endured want. On the other hand, it was certainly something
he could deduce from the lives of those among whom he governed. And on that basis the same would be true
today.
Certainly the Mosaical
Code had commanded generosity to those in need and promised that God would
bless one for such liberality (Deuteronomy 15:7-11). If one wishes a more “self-centered” reason,
then it would lie in the fact that the best way to show that you deserve help
in your time of crisis, is by helping others in their time of hurt and
lack (cf. Proverbs
Neither the economic
or charitable line of interpretation is without difficulty. Tomas Frydrych
rightly observes, “It is questionable that the imagery of casting bread on
water, an activity with little obvious purpose, and little predictable outcome,
can serve as a metaphor for a purpose-conscious business strategy.”[14] (Of course, popular images and phrases can
come to denote ideas far different than their literal meaning.) On the other hand, against the charitableness
interpretation is the fact that though the words of verse 2 could carry
such a connotation, there is nothing in them to make them clear cut.
[Page 134]
B. Yet
Recognize that There Are Things Beyond Control
and Daydreaming
It Isn’t So
Won’t Change that Reality (11:3-4)
Developing the theme
of “evil” (i.e., in the form of bad events) that one has no control over
(11:2), the author points to earthly phenomena that either occur or don’t occur
and over which no one has power: If the
clouds are full of rain there is no stopping the rain from coming; whatever
direction a tree falls in, no one can make it reverse directions; wherever the
tree falls, that is where it stays and wishing it had fallen somewhere else
changes nothing (11:3). These are events
beyond any one’s ability to alter.
Similarly, daydreaming
about “what might have been” won’t change the reality either: becoming wrapped up in determining the
direction the wind is blowing and what it portends means there is no time for
planting; becoming wrapped up in determining what cloud patterns foretell
leaves no time for reaping (11:4).
Thinking, meditating, conjecturing—none of that changes a single thing.
All these
illustrations single in on a very human limitation: becoming so absorbed in speculating on would could
happen that we do not do anything about what has happened (11:3) and
becoming so wrapped up in what might be, that we do not get done what we
can do (11:4).
We might call this the great fault of
intellectuals: they want to “understand”
to such an extent that they easily forget that unless one does something
with that insight, all the perceptivity in the world is not going to do one bit
of good. Indeed, in the examples in
these two verses, attempts to “understand” become a substitute for action: in all the cases, the person observes and not
one word is given suggesting anything more is undertaken.
Qohelet
as a ruler had to walk a tight rope between such abstract theorizing about
events and causes and the actual administration of his kingdom to assure its
prosperity and survival. There were
times when he had to act without having all the facts—assuming that it is ever
possible to have “all” the facts. There
were other times when domestic crises arose in the land under his control when
countless hours and days could have been eaten up discussing and debating “why”
it had occurred. But for the country to
recuperate from a potential calamity, something ultimately had to be done
and done before the people became disillusioned and sunk into lethargy.
Similarly in our lives
as individuals, it is far easier to discuss forever the “why” of an event: doubtless you can recall some particular
business or church meeting that went on for hours in a futile discussion of
what went wrong and the discussion never moved on to the even more important
issue of how to deal with it--right it if possible, and alleviate it if
not. And above all: how to keep it from happening again! Hot air is easy; definitive decisions are
not. Perhaps that is why it is so alluring.
[Page 135]
C. Since One
Can Never Be Sure What Will
Actually Accomplish the Desired Result,
Work at Everything with Commitment
(11:5-6)
We do not understand
how the “wind” (in some translations, “spirit”) works nor do we understand the
growth of the bones of the child in the womb (11:5). That was then, not today. Yet we should not be overly puffed up, for
even though we can understand the broader outlines of both subjects far better
than they could in that ancient age, when we get down to the fine points our
knowledge still falters and, quite possibly, always will. Knowing “more” is not the same as knowing
“all.”
God, Qohelet insists, is at work in these and “everything”
(11:5). Implicit here is the idea that
there are some things that only God can understand and that will forever be
beyond us. In the current context, it
also carries the twin ideas that in everything that happens around us God is,
somehow, at work and that we can never be able to fully grasp how he is doing
that work—a theme we saw earlier in Ecclesiastes as well. The tie-in with the affairs of this world, is
to accept the fact that God’s hand is active even when things are not going
well and to leave it to God to make things work out best in the long-term. After, all, we can’t.
Nor should we allow these disappointments—nor our trust in God, either, for that
matter—to freeze us into immobility. In
World War II there was an actual incident at Pearl Harbor in which a chaplain
was asked during the battle whether it was time to pray, to which he responded
(in the words that became the title of a hit song), “Praise God and Pass the
Ammunition.” In other words, pray and
praise but get the work done that needs to be done at the same time.
That is the point the monarch is making when
he argues that one should take advantage of all opportunities. Using the example appropriate to any
agricultural society such as his own, he argues that one should sow seed both
in the morning and evening since one has no idea which sowing will produce the
most and since you don’t know, feel free to do both (11:6). (Others interpret the morning to be youth and
the evening to one’s older years.[15] The point would be much the same: stay actively involved at all stages of your
life.)
In addition to the
possibility of supernaturally aided insight, how did the author come to this
conclusion? Whether it was on the basis
of some administrative mistake of his own or someone else, he had reached the
perceptive deduction that the key to success is not just whether you do the
“right” or “best” thing but that you try something. And then keep at it and adjust it as
necessary. Unless that occurs, any
decision is going to be futile for lack of wise implementation.
[Page 136]
D. Enjoy Life
As You Work Hard—
While You Are Still Able To (11:7-10)
Throughout this
section, Qohelet emphasizes that no matter how
vigorous you feel and how thrilling life is while young, if you live,
you will grow old and tired (11:7-8; cf. 12:1-5, at great length). Today people live to a much greater age than
was often common in his era, but the tiredness, the fatigue of spirit and flesh
still comes. It may come in a dramatic
form: I must confess after sixty-eight
years of life and three heart attacks, life simply isn’t what it once was. It isn’t just that the surrounding world has
changed, but something in me has changed as well.
We have no idea what
the monarch’s own physical afflictions may have been, though rare it is when
there aren’t some. But he had been on
the throne for many years and had observed the aging of others as well as their
reaction to it. So what he describes, he
had seen in those around him—and surely in himself as well.
How then are we to live before those sadder years eventually reach
us? The essence of his conclusion
(11:9-10) is that we should enjoy life.
Put away “sorrow” and “evil” while we live those precious years, he
insists (
Though the lifestyle
he embraces is one of pleasure seeking, that goal is yet balanced with full
and total accountability, “Rejoice, O young man, in your youth, and let
your heart cheer you in the days of your youth; walk in the ways of your heart,
and in the sight of your eyes” (11:9a), i.e., do anything and everything that
makes you happy.
One major manuscript of the Septuagint
inserts “blameless” after “walk” and “not” in front of “in the sight of your
eyes”[16]--probably
out of fear that the advice, as it stood, could encourage individuals to live
irresponsibly. That this was a needless
addition--because it was far from the author’s intent to countenance such a
lifestyle--can be seen in the fact that he promptly adds the essential balance
that is required to his statement, “But know that for all these God will bring
you into judgment” (11:9b).[17]
Implicit in this is a warning that unforgiven sin will be punished and a plea that one set it
aside while there is time. Indeed, since
they claimed to be part of God’s people, that created a moral
obligation for such a course (cf. Paul’s reasoning along this line in 2
Corinthians
We live in an age that
seeks pleasure without responsibility, enjoyment without answerability. Yet the acknowledgment of the latter tempers
and removes the irresponsibility that can so easily mark a life that centers on
enjoying the here and now.
[Page 137] This concept of accountability was one that
the author could deduce from the relationship of himself as king to his
subjects. Those that were the
beneficiaries of position and authority had to answer to him. What different situation would we expect of
our relationship to God the King?
E.
Remember Your Spiritual Obligations
While You Seek Happiness (12:1-8)
Qohelet
was not a priest. He was a monarch. Hence his intellectual center of gravity was
naturally on prudence in the current life.
Yet he was not without a recognition of the
importance of spirituality, either. He
had prepared the way for this section by emphasizing that with the right and
desirability to live how we please, comes responsibility for those life choices
(11:9).
He ties this in with
his theme of aging, “Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth, before
the difficult days come, and the years draw near when you say, ‘I have no
pleasure in them’ ” (12:1), a period whose sorrow and pain he describes at
length (12:2-5).[18] (The pains of old age were a recognized part
of the wisdom literature of other nations as well.)[19] There are two reasons given by Solomon for
serving God while young.
First, whether you
like it or not you will die (12:6).
Death is not a theory; it is a reality.
All we can change is our attitude toward it and our preparation for
it. You are going to your “eternal home”
(12:5) whether you interpret that materialistically as the grave or spiritually
as a place of reward beyond this material universe.[20] You will go. (Although there are texts in this book that
indicate Qohelet’s belief in surviving death [see
12:7, for example], “eternal home” might still be used of the grave in the
sense that that is where the physical remains permanently abide.)
Second, part of our
being will survive death (12:7), “Then the dust will return to the earth as it
was, and the spirit will return to God who gave it.” Hence, in death, we will not escape God. If anything, we return to where He
is. If the beauties of creation and the
pleasures of life have caused us to blot out this fact, death will put our
relationship with the divine back at the center of our mind. For at that point we will come face to face
with Him.
Something in
the text clearly returns to God that is distinct from the flesh that goes to
the dust. If we take the “spirit” to
mean the human “breath,” of what possible use would that be to God? What could He possibly do with it? Only if the “spirit” takes on the overtones
of the essence of our nature that survives death (the “soul,” if you will)
would the return of it to God make adequate sense. Not that Qohelet
likely understood the full implications of that “spirit,” only that “something”
of our essential nature survived physical passing.[21]
A very different point
also deserves emphasis. Solomon had
built the temple, the center of Jewish ceremonial ritual. He had sought for wisdom to govern his [Page
138] people wisely. But there is no evidence that he was particularly
“religious,” that it was at the center of his daily being. As a monarch, perhaps that center of gravity
even had to be elsewhere.
Furthermore, he had compromised his
religious integrity by permitting polytheism to be practiced openly among his
various spouses. Written in his old age,
could this be as close as he ever could come to admitting that he had made a
fundamental error on such matters? He
couldn’t very well repudiate those spouses without plunging the interlocking alliances
of the nation into chaos. But he could
recognize that he had made fundamental errors in priorities that were now
beyond alteration. He could only face
God and hope for the best.
Some people never come
face to face with their weaknesses and failures and their ultimate
accountability to God. I spent some time
decades ago with a couple in their mid-80s.
Many people went to their senior citizens center for its various
activities. One thing that thoroughly
intrigued the couple was that though for all of them death was on the near
horizon, yet few manifested any real interest in religion.
God never placed a chronological limit on
when one can begin serving Him, however.
Only pride and laziness does. If
ignoring the Divine might be called an intellectual absurdity at thirty
it is total folly at eighty when we are but one step away from answering
for our lives.
Other
approaches have been taken to our text than the one we have presented. Rather than being intended as a description
of old age per se, some have thought it also depicts the funeral related
activities that bring it to a close.[22] Others consider it an extended metaphor
either of old age or approaching death.[23]
In either analysis, we still have an
essentially death centered passage. The
only approach that moves substantially beyond this, is
that which makes it an eschatological description of “the end of the age.” Even here, some have argued that such
rhetoric has been, in effect, transferred to death, making it the end of
our age even if not the age.[24]
It should be noted that even the
introductory verse introduces a perplexing element, “Remember now your Creator
in the days of your youth” (12:1). At
first that seems a truism. On the other
hand, the Hebrew here for “Creator” is plural,[25]
causing some to seek an emendation of the text to “grave,” thereby turning an
initial upbeat note into a pessimistic statement from the very beginning. The plural, however, could be a reference to
our parents and the thrust would be to remember them (and we remember them as
“old” and never as young) before we ourselves become such and also die.
More likely is an allusion to the belief in
the plurality of divinity within the Godhead.
Although uncommon in the Old Testament (unlike the New where it is both
crystal clear and emphasized), it is not without support. One of the most obvious such possible
intimations is found in regard to the creation of human beings, “Let Us
make man in Our image, according to Our likeness” (Genesis
1:26).
Others prefer the view that the plural is
intended to stress the Divine “majesty since the Hebrew plural in one respect
accentuates quality or quantity in the superlative sense.”[26] Although Yahweh/Jehovah certainly exceeds all
the rival deities of antiquity in every way--as well as, inherently, being the
perfection of
[Page 139] moral excellence
and sole God--this would not seem to be the most obvious manner to convey that
point in the current context.
D. Although He
Himself Had Written
Much of
Value, Service to God Should Be the
Foundation
of Existence (12:9-14)
In what seems a
clearly intended allusion to the book of Proverbs, Qohelet
refers to how “he pondered and sought out and set in order many
proverbs” (12:9). The wording is
intriguing, “sought out.” He not merely composed, he compiled proverbs—not all that
surprising in an age that revered such adages.
We should remember
that proverbs (Hebrew masal) was a very
flexible term and could encompass a number of somewhat similar teaching
modes. As Michael A. Eaton observes,[27]
It could include such things as Jotham’s fable (Judges 9:7-15), the riddle of Samson
(Judges 14:12ff.), the witticisms concerning Saul and David (1 Samuel
The purpose of Qohelet writing and
compiling was to seek out the best (= “acceptable”) words that would provide
“upright” advice and “words of truth” whereby one could govern conduct (
Hence these insights
could provide the reader valuable guidance in how to conduct oneself in this
life, especially in the youth which he had just emphasized should be enjoyed to
the fullest (11:9). Others would attempt
to present their own form of useful advice and caution and he certainly did not
intend to discourage them. Nor would he
discourage his readers from utilizing such works.
[Page 140] On the other hand, “of making many books
there is no end,” i.e., the final word will never be written (
Qohelet
implies that these works would be of widely varying usefulness. In contrast, there was one source they
could put absolute confidence in, “Fear God and keep His commandments, for this
is man’s all” (
The intimate and unbreakable linkage
between reverential fear/respect for deity and obedience to His will is
referred to in the case of Abraham (Genesis
The reason Torah
obedience is mentioned at all, has occupied much of modern scholarly
interpretation. Much of what is said
manifests clear uneasiness with the possibility that a wisdom-orientated writer
could have a major place in his thought for the centrality of the core
Old Testament scriptures.
Hence theories have abounded, for example,
that the reference was a later addition by Torah conscious followers to assure
its acceptance within that community or even to promote its acceptance as a
canonical work. On the other hand, one
can also take the opposite view--that it is an effort to downgrade the
status of the work by the orthodox, by making its contents of less importance
than the Torah.[31]
Yet others argue that
the admonition grows out of the mind frame and teachings found throughout the
current work. Wisdom requires
that one obey the Torah. Fear of God requires
that one obey the Torah.[32] However great the value and insights of
wisdom, it is through scripture that God speaks directly and only indirectly
through wisdom and philosophical reasoning.
The two walk hand-in-hand. In other words, cultivating wisdom is no
excuse for ignoring the media through which God has directly communicated. It is not a case of wisdom or Torah
(scripture), but wisdom and Torah, with the latter occupying the seat of
definitive and final authority.
Nor was this an abstract theoretical
duty—one decreed by pure reason alone.
It had naked power behind it. As the monarch explains in the next verse, “For God will bring
every work into judgment, including every secret thing, whether good or evil” (
This judgment would include an evaluation
of things not known to anyone else (“every secret thing”), not merely those
which condemn us (the “evil” action or [Page 141] thought) but also those that would commend
us (the “good” deed or intent).
Similarly, in the New Testament, Paul also warned that no aspect of our
behavior or attitude can be hidden from Divine judgment (Romans
Occasionally in this
work, Qohelet has made mention of God and how we are
amenable to His law. In his closing
words, he makes it most emphatic of all.
And the all encompassing rhetoric is so broadly expressed, that it clearly
applies even to the king himself.
Quite likely this
admission was more than a little painful to the king. Kingship breeds love of power. To admit that even he—lord of so much,
respected for his own wisdom and insight, and wealthy beyond human dreams—that
even he was subject to another’s judgment must have given him
pause. To the extent that tyranny can
ever have a checkmate, that recognition of ultimate judgment by someone greater
than any mortal has to be it.
Footnote
[1] Zimmermann, 159, uses this as one of many
examples that indicate, he believes, that the Hebrew represents a translation
from an Aramaic original: he is
convinced that the word rendered “bread” in Hebrew represents a translation of
an Aramaic word that, in context, carried the meaning of “sail” or “ship.”
[2] Rylaarsdam, 129.
[3] Goldberg, 129, and
Hubbard, 227.
[4] Whybray, Ecclesiastes
(Century), 158-159.
[5] Fleming, 700.
[6] Rylaarsdam, 129.
[7] Leiman applies
verse 1 to charity (198-199) and verse 2 to diversifying one’s investments
(200). If the subject shifts at all, the
reverse order seems more probable. On
wording in the two verses that could point in both directions, see Kidner, n. 2, p. 97.
[8] Johnson, 124. In a similar vein Kaiser,
114, citing the parallel usage of first one number and then a larger one in the
book of Amos (“for three transgressions, yea four”).
[9]As quoted by Longman, 255.
[Page
142] [10] 19.10,
as quoted by Fox, Qohelet, 274. On controversy over the translation see n.
22, p. 274.
[11]
[12] For the text of the Egyptian Instruction
of Ptahhotep (lines 339-349), which roots
charitableness toward others as a form of potential self-protection, see Fox, Qohelet, 275.
[13] On this being the kind of imagery implied,
see Odeberg, 73.
[14] Frydrych, n. 70,
p. 194.
[15] Leiman, 203.
[16] Buck, 520.
[17] Leupold, 271,
notes that the wording is, literally, “the judgment” and argues from
this that it is a clear affirmation that “the one great judgment” is under
consideration rather than those “various judgments” that we may undergo while
in life.
[18] For a detailed explanation of how the
individual phrases can apply to the decline of the body’s various specific
functions, see Leiman, 213-217. The exact connotation of the various phrases,
however, will be interpreted significantly differently from commentator to
commentator. Cf. the comments of
Goldberg, 135-136, and Whybray, Ecclesiastes (Century),
163-164. On the possibility that the
account is moving on a “literal, figurative, and symbolic” level
simultaneously, see the discussion in Longman, 263-264.
[19] For a description from the Egyptian Instruction
of Ptahhotep, see Goldberg, 30, and Kaiser,
39. Note, however, that this is very
literalistic compared to the more figurative and imaginative language of Qohelet.
[20] On ancient usage in different cultures of
the grave as a synonym for “eternal home” see Longman, n. 27, p. 266.
[21] Ibid., 273, insists that Qohelet is a strict materialist and all he means is that
part of us “return to a prelife situation.” But unless something of us existed
prior to physical life is it not incomprehensible to speak of a “return” to it?
[22] For a detailed presentation of the view
that we have here both a description of aging as well as the mourning and
emotional atmosphere accompanying a funeral, see Fox, Qohelet,
286-289, 299.
[24] Ibid., 228-229;
for eschatological texts/concepts allegedly being transferred, see 229-234.
[25] Fuerst, 151, and Goldberg, 132.
For proposed emendations of the Hebrew text to remove this perceived
problem, see Murphy, 113. On different
methods of interpretation of the plural, see Longman, n. 10, p. 264, and
269-271.
[26] Goldberg, 132. Eaton, 147-148, takes the same approach.
[27] Eaton, 153.
[28] For the argument that 12:9-11 expresses
the claim that the teaching is derived from the “one Shepherd” (i.e., God), and
hence inspiration is directly claimed, see Kaiser, 15, and Kidwell,
287-288. For possible non-God
explanations of who the shepherd is, see Longman, 279-280. The words also make sense if interpreted as
meaning that true scholars use logical arguments (“nails”) that are in
conformity with each other since they all serve the purposes of the same
“one Shepherd.” They aren’t all going
off in different directions and advocating different things.
[29] Kaiser, 123-124.
[30] On the
similarity of the positive concept of “fearing God” in this and other Old
Testament texts, see Whybray, “Quoheleth,”
264-265.
[31] For a brief discussion of the theories,
see Kamano, 251.
[32] Ibid., 251-253, heavily emphasizes that
the “fear God” element in Qohelet’s teaching is
fulfilled through the loyalty to the base scriptures of Judaism. Hence such observance is essential to truly
fearing God.