Session 1 When Life Feels Empty

Ecclesiastes 1: 1-14

Historical Setting

Although the text itself implies that Solomon is the author of Ecclesiastes, another alternative is that this is offered in the book as only one of many personae adopted by the sage throughout the book. The Hebrew term Qoheleth (translated “the Teacher”) suggests one who aggregates something. It could refer to disciples gathered under his instruction

“The words of Qoheleth” are to be taken in the sense of the “words” in the titles of Prov 30:1, 31:1 (and see the widely adopted emendation of Prov 22:17, “the words of the wise”). The phrase does not have the same nuance as “the words of Jeremiah” in Jer 1:1, or “the words of Solomon” (his acts) in 1 Kgs 11:41. It is rather a typical wisdom title, comparable to the משׁלי שׁלמה in Prov 1:1; 10:1.

As indicated in the Introduction (“Author, Date, and Canonicity”), the meaning of קהלת (qōhelet) remains a mystery. In the broadest sense it indicates that the author has something to do with a קהל, or congregation. In form the word is the qal feminine singular active participle of the root קהל, although the designee is clearly masculine. For all intents and purposes it is used as a proper name, despite the presence of the definite article in 7:7 and 12:8.

As “Son of David,” the author receives the aura of Solomon, Israel’s sage par excellence (1 Kgs 5:9–14[4:29–34]), to whom Jewish tradition attributed the Book of Proverbs, the Song of Songs, and the apocryphal Wisdom of Solomon.

Explanation

This innocent looking superscription raises more questions than can be answered. One can “explain” it along the lines of the traditional ascription of wisdom writings to Solomon, but the name “Solomon” never occurs explicitly as it does in the Song of Songs and in Proverbs. Moreover, a king fiction seems like a weak justification of the admittedly royal pretense that never goes beyond chaps. 2. It was not necessary for the writer to describe himself (or be described) as a king for the sake of that chapter. By contrast, one can understand better the ascription of the Song of Songs to Solomon. In the Song of Songs, a Solomonic air breathes through the work. There seems to be a hidden reference to that king in the שׁלמית and the שׁלום that occur in Cant 7:1 [6:13] and 8:10, and there are several explicit references to him elsewhere in the eight chapters. But in the case of Qoheleth there is no compelling reason for royal identity. It is easy enough to say, after the fact, that the Solomonic authorship facilitated the canonization of the work. But we are in the realm of hypothesis; the identity remains a puzzle. From this point of view, it is interesting to compare the work with the Wisdom of Solomon. Although Solomon is never mentioned by name in that work, it is crystal clear that the writer implicitly identifies himself with the famous king (e.g., chaps. 7–9). The author is a king addressing other “kings” (Wisd 1:1; 6:1). But Qoheleth makes little use of royal identity. From the very first, our author is wrapped in mystery.

The appearance of this superscription raises the question of editor(s). While it is theoretically possible for an author to have edited his own work and furnished it with a title, it is more likely that the title is a later addition, in the case of the biblical books. Since Qoheleth was a teacher (12:9), perhaps one of his students or followers was the editor. Scholars commonly identify this editor as R(edactor), and then hypotheses begin to multiply. Many commentators (e.g., A. Lauha) detect two redactors, R1 and R2, particularly in the epilogue (12:9–14). It is a delicate procedure to assign verses to an editor, or to another hand, and we have seen in the Introduction (p xxxii) that this practice has been exaggerated in the case of Ecclesiastes. Perhaps the most convincing indication of another hand in this work is the reference to the author in the third person (12:9), when elsewhere Qoheleth writes in the first person. On this basis, one may legitimately suspect 12:9–14 of being a later addition, and perhaps the writer of the superscription is the same as the writer of the epilogue in 12:9–14. As for the existence of several redactors, see the Comment on 12:9–14.

1:1 Ecclesiastes is a book of wisdom sayings that examines the meaning of life’s endeavors, the value of common wisdom, and the problem of injustice. The opening verse presents the speaker as a member of David’s royal family, but his name is not mentioned. Solomon was the only son of David who was king in Jerusalem and over all of Israel (Eccl 1:12). This has contributed to the view that Solomon wrote the book in the 10th century bc. Also contributing to this view is Solomon’s reputation for wisdom and the description of the wealth amassed in 2:1–11. But these factors could point to the book being in the tradition of Solomon’s wisdom, rather than by him.

There are several factors that point to Ecclesiastes being compiled or edited after Solomon’s lifetime (12:9–10). For example, when the author speaks of injustice or oppression, he does not speak from a kingly perspective, as someone who has the power to do something about it (3:16; 4:1; 5:8–9; 7:7; 8:9). Also, there are Aramaic and Persian words in the book, which were not in usage by Jewish people until their encounter with the Persians (see note on 2:5; note on 2:8; note on 8:11). These factors point to a compilation date of the book after 539 bc and perhaps as late as the third-century bc.

The Hebrew word used here, qoheleth, often translated “Preacher,” is unique to Ecclesiastes and can also be translated “Teacher,” “Speaker,” or “Leader of the Assembly.”

The origin of the term qoheleth is uncertain. It most likely derives from the Hebrew word qahal (meaning “to assemble”); thus, it is usually connected to someone who would lead an assembly, like a speaker or preacher.

Qoheleth is spoken of in the third person at the beginning (vv. 1–2) and end of the book (12:8–14). These passages create a frame around the “words of qoheleth” (1:3–12:7). This type of literary device was common in the ancient Near East. By providing a frame around “words of qoheleth,” the book is able to provide commentary on how to understand them (see note on 12:9–14).

1:1–2 Introduction

Verse 1 gives the title of the work, and verse 2 gives its theme. The word vanity or meaningless translates the Hebrew word hebel, which originally meant breath. From breath comes the idea of that which is insubstantial, transitory, and of fleeting value. For Ecclesiastes, anything that does not have eternal value has no real value. Everything in this world is fleeting and therefore, in the final analysis, pointless.

1:3–11 On Time and the World

All of nature is in constant motion and yet is going nowhere. This is a parable of human life; it is a long flurry of activity that accomplishes nothing permanent. Not only that, but there is nothing new in this world (1:8–10). “New” does not mean merely unfamiliar or novel but something fresh that breaks into the cycle of life and gives meaning and value. The desperate needs of humanity described here are answered in Christ, in whom we have a new covenant, a new birth, a new commandment, and a new life. Meanwhile, we and this weary creation (Rom 8:19–22) await the glory of the resurrection: new bodies for ourselves in a new heaven and a new earth.

Ecclesiastes 1:1-7

Time has dulled the edge of this fundamental judgment made by Qoheleth. He was of the firm conviction that there was nothing in this world that was an unqualified good. It was all “vanity,” without exception. The grim reality of his verdict has to be seen in and for itself before it is absorbed into an interpretive context. Readers who supply the dimension of eternal life with God can, by comparison, reduce all other values to zero. This fits well with an ascetic interpretation, but not with Qoheleth’s expressed thought. Others would modify or seek exceptions from Qoheleth’s drastic judgment on the basis of those passages that seem to express a positive enjoyment of life (symbolized, e.g., in 3:12–13 and 5:17–18 by “eating and drinking”). In either case, it is important to realize that the reader is placing Qoheleth in a specific context (the reader’s context?), which he did not envision. No matter the eventual reinterpretation of the word, one should avoid using the term הבל (“vanity”) casually as it were, without even an inkling of the depth of meaning that Qoheleth attached to it.

1:2 This opening refrain, which is repeated at the end of the book (12:8), introduces the theme. The Hebrew word used here, hevel, is often translated as “vanity,” “absurd,” or “senseless.” As in “holy of holies” or “song of songs,” the form of this phrase indicates a superlative and can be understood as “the greatest vanity.”

Hevel

The Hebrew word hevel occurs more times in Ecclesiastes than in all other ot books combined. It literally means “breath” or “vapor,” but it can be understood as “vanity,” “meaninglessness,” “absurdity,” or “senselessness.” The author of Ecclesiastes uses the word to describe frustrating or unfair situations.

1:2 Meaningless! The Hebrew term signifies “a mere breath.” The theme of futility is found in numerous literary pieces in the second millennium BC. It is expressed in Gilgamesh’s affirmation that whatever mankind does is “wind.” The same word used by Gilgamesh is used in other texts to describe the way the world was regulated by the gods. The theme is worked out by discussing how all of the great deeds of the heroes of old amounted to nothing.

Modern readers are inclined to read statements like this through the lens of existential pessimism, amounting to a statement meaning “life is not worth living.” If the Teacher is prefiguring stoicism, however, his point is not so much on the “lack of meaning in everything that is” and more on “meaning is found elsewhere.” The stoic objective is not existential despair, but the devaluing of things to which most (nonphilosophers) assign value, so that the real value of really valuable things (virtue and philosophy for stoics, fear of the Lord for Ecclesiastes) can be properly demonstrated. An adequate English word for translating this concept is elusive, but it is the opposite of ultimate self-fulfillment.

1:3–11 This poem illustrates the futility and brevity of life—key themes in Ecclesiastes. By showing that life is a continuing cycle, the author demonstrates how little an individual’s life affects the world (v. 3). Verse 4 highlights the brevity of human life. Verses 5–7 describe the ongoing and unchanging cycles of the sun (v. 5), wind (v. 6), and water (v. 7). Verses 8–10 reveals the futility of searching for satisfaction, especially in work. Verse 11 illustrates how little individual lives matter.

1:3 What does man gain? This repeated question (3:9; 5:15; cf. 2:11; 6:11; 10:11) is born out of the Preacher’s realization that “all is vanity” (1:2): if life frequently makes no sense and pleasures and achievements are “fleeting,” is there any significance to human existence? The phrase under the sun does not indicate a “secular” point of view, as is often claimed (the Preacher’s frequent references to God exclude such an interpretation) but rather refers to the world and to mankind in their current fallen state, much like NT expressions such as “this age” or “this present age.”

1:3 This rhetorical question emphasizes the opening and closing refrain that “all is absurd” (vv. 2; 12:8). Throughout the book, the author points out the limited ability of people to achieve any real gain or advantage (2:11; 3:9; 5:16; 6:8, 11; 10:11). Any gains achieved by hard work are eventually negated by death.

Similar to “under heaven” (2:3; Deut 7:24), this phrase describes the entirety of life on earth.

The rhetorical (but nonetheless genuine) question is a typical feature in wisdom literature, and is employed many times in Ecclesiastes. It often tends, as here, to suggest a negation (cf. 2:11; 3:9): there is no profit from one’s hard lot, the toil inherent in human existence. Thus the answer has been anticipated by the exclamations in v 2 (perhaps “all” is a catch word in vv 2–3).

“Under the sun” is a phrase peculiar to Ecclesiastes in the OT (see note 3.f.): the expression is varied in 1:13; 2:3; 3:1, as “under the heavens.” This has more than the pale meaning of “on the earth” (against A. Lauha). It suggests the troubled life of humanity in this world against the background of inevitable death (“the accent of oppressive constriction and incarceration,” Zimmerli; “death-limit,” Galling).

1:4 Highlights the brevity of human life.

4 This verse affirms the ephemeral character of humankind, against the background of the ever-standing earth. One should not press the “eternity of the world” here, since as Zimmerli remarks, “the permanence of the earth is merely the foil against which the restless coming and going of human beings is outlined.” It is the “dance of the dead” with which Qoheleth is concerned. The constant repetition, the coming and going, is brought out in the metaphors of vv 4–7. The image of generation stands for repetition, ongoing and relentless, always monotonous, and this is reinforced by the succeeding examples. The comparison of human generations to tree leaves is found in Sir 14:18 and, as pointed out by R. Braun (Kohelet, 57–58), seems to go back to Homer (Iliad, 6.146ff.). Podechard remarks that v 4 has nothing to do with the posed immobility of the earth, as alleged in the case against Galileo.

Fox denies that there is any contrast here between the transience of generations and the permanence of the earth. To this end he interprets “earth” as meaning humanity (see also JSOT 40 [1988] 109). It is true that the remaining images do not underscore ephemerality (vv 4–7), but it is hard to eliminate the note of impermanence and transience here when they appear with such frequency throughout the book; f e.g., 2:16.

1:5 The author uses examples from the natural world to show that life involves cycles.

Examples from the natural world are often used in Wisdom literature to illustrate themes. The book of Proverbs contains many of these (Prov 11:28; 16:15; 19:12; 25:14; 27:8). For example, the proverbs of Agur look to the animal kingdom for examples of wisdom and grandeur (Prov 30:24–31). Bildad, Job’s friend, uses papyrus and reeds to show that the wicked will suffer God’s punishment (Job 8:11–19).

5 The description of the sun’s “journey” is in lively contrast with Ps 19, where it is compared to a warrior. Here it is presented as a creature that simply does what has to be done. In the context this is another symbol for ineluctable repetition. One can only speculate whether Israel shared the common belief that the sun went “under the earth” and around to its place of rising.

1:6 The wind blows. The monotony of the cycles of nature is a metaphor for the failure of human activity to accomplish anything, as each generation arises and then goes to its death. This sentiment appears in the Egyptian Harpers’ Songs as well: “Water flows downstream, the north wind blows upstream [since in Egypt the Nile flows north to the Mediterranean], and likewise everybody goes to his hour.”

6 Again, the participial style is very effective, and two verbs are repeated: הלך, “go” (twice), and סבב, “turn” (four times). The position of רוח, “wind,” in v 6b is deliberate and striking. Podechard points out that the movement is not circular: rather the wind sweeps the area in two contrary directions, north and south, only to begin again. As in the previous examples, the direct meaning of the image is constant repetition; the wind (which is mentioned in another context in 11:4) returns to its starting point in order to begin again.

1:7 In addition to showing that life involves cycles, the author uses nature to show the unsatisfying nature of life. Just as the sea is never full, people struggle to be filled or find satisfaction in life (compare Eccles 6:7 and note). The author emphasizes the unsatisfactory nature of wealth throughout the book (4:7–8; 5:10–12).

7 The sense of the verse is that the streams keep pouring into the sea, not that they return to their source and resume their rounds (see note 7.a.). Hence, מקים, “place,” is to be taken in the sense of goal, not origin, and it is useless to speculate about an “eternal return,” or that the waters return under the earth (so K. Galling, Jerome). The image of the sea never being filled (cf. Aristophanes, Clouds, l. 1294) expresses exactly the futility of the action of the streams (so also H. Hertzberg, R. Gordis, F. Nötscher, A. Lauha). W. Zimmerli remarks that the sea that is never filled is the counterpart to human effort that never comes to fulfillment.

Ecclesiastes 1:8-10

8 After surveying instances of the constant repetition of an action in nature, the author now turns to the activity of humans (the primary interest in the work) and finds the same phenomenon there: they are part of that world, always active and yet never satisfied. The inadequacy of words is not merely the inability of humans to find words that fit (the ideal of the sage was the right word at the right time; cf. Prov 15:23, 25:11). Rather, the point is that human words never achieve their purpose.

This verse closes the short poem in vv 4–8. The poem is not merely a māšāl about nature, as O. Loretz (Qohelet, 193–94) terms it, which underscores marvels in nature that humankind is unable to understand (see also Lohfink; R. N. Whybray, JSOT 41 [1988] 105–12). Rather, all the events are example of fruitless repetition. This central idea blends into the following vv 9–11. There is “nothing new,” because there has been futile repetition going on in past generations, and in natural phenomena.

1:8 All things are wearisome, more than one can say. More lit. “All things are weary; no one is able to speak.” This sentiment—that there is nothing new to report and no new maxims to give—strongly echoes the “Complaints of Khakheperresonb,” an Egyptian text composed in the Middle Kingdom period (c. 2055–1650 BC). In this text, the sage laments, “Would I had unknown phrases, / maxims that are strange, / Novel untried words, / Void of repetitions; / Not maxims of past speech, / Spoken by the ancestors.” He further insists that “One who has spoken should not speak,” in a manner reminiscent of Ecclesiastes’ claim that no one is able to speak.

9 The author denies any distinction between the past and the future. They are really the same; the future repeats the past. The sameness of yesterday and today is stressed in an Akkadian proverb: “The life of last night (is the same as) every day” (W. Lambert, BWL, 249). But here the emphasis on sameness is much greater than general boredom. In v 9a there seems to be no difference between the verbs “be” and “do”; they serve to embrace all reality (against Podechard and others who refer “be” to the phenomena of vv 4–8 and “do” to human activities). Nor can one speak properly of cyclical thought here. Rather, there is simple repetition, as shown by the examples in vv 4–8. The idea will be taken up again in 3:15 in slightly altered form.

“Under the sun” may form an inclusio with v 3, thus linking this passage with the question of toil. H. Hertzberg rightly points out that the denial of anything new is unusual in biblical thought. The OT refers frequently to “new” things (e.g., song, Ps 96:1; covenant, Jer 31:31; see Isa 43:19). How rigidly did Qoheleth understand “nothing new under the sun”?

1:9 there is nothing new under the sun. For Khakheperresonb (see previous note), all that people do under the sun is a mere “imitation of the past.”

10 This verse is a flat denial that there is anything really new, in answer to an objection that the author anticipates. H. Odeberg interpreted the lack of remembrance (v 11) as the absence of an “active memory” whereby one learns something new and profitable from the past. But Qoheleth seems to mean something more than this subjective, faulty memory. M. Fox (Qohelet, 172) adopts the view of Augustine (City of God, 12.13) that “Qoheleth is speaking of recurrence of types of being and events.” Particular events derive their reality by their conformity to the archetype. Thus, neither the City of God nor Ecclesiastes are really new; they belong to the archetype, book. Does the thought of Qoheleth reach that degree of abstraction? Perhaps one can say that his meaning is that at least there is nothing new that is profitable or that is not vanity. In short, there is nothing of value that pierces the monotony of life: “the eye is not satisfied by seeing”; nothing new or out of the ordinary emerges to satisfy it.

11 One reason for the denial in v 10 is now given: there is no (active, as Odeberg would put it) memory of the past, nor in turn, of the future. It makes little difference whether the reference of past and future is to persons or events; if people are forgotten, so are events. O. Loretz (Qohelet, 225–30) narrows the perspective to deeds and events that create a name and reputation. But Qoheleth seems to have in mind more than that basic concern. Memory is as flat as the experience described in vv 3–8, and it does not serve to liberate humans from the monotony of life.

1:9–11. What is true of the earth’s wearying cycles is also true of human history. Despite all that happens in human life, there is nothing new under the sun (v. 9). Someone might object that human life includes much that is new (v. 10a). Qohelet denies this. Allegedly new occurrences actually have a long pedigree (v. 10b). They only seem novel because humans tend to forget the people of the past and their actions. Nor should people expect anything different in the future; people of this generation will not be remembered by future ones (v. 11). “Like ants on a rock, we leave no trace of having been here” (Garrett, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs, 285).

Qohelet’s words here drive the reader to look beyond life under the sun. Qohelet is not denying the possibility of human invention but is analyzing the fundamental human condition, much like the well-known proverb, “The more things change, the more they stay the same” (Derek Kidner, A Time to Mourn, and a Time to Dance [Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity], 1976, 26). So one who hopes to find something new and satisfying under the sun—that fundamentally alters the human condition—is on a fool’s errand. This is merely trying to gain the world while losing the soul (Mk 8:36).

Ecclesiastes 1:11-14

1:11 No one remembers the former generations. This outlook rejects what seems to have been an obsession with ancient Near Eastern monarchs: the desire to create eternal monuments that would preserve their names through all generations. Of course, any educated Israelite would have known of the great stone inscriptions of Egyptian pharaohs. Perhaps the futility of this quest was already evident. There had already been examples of Egyptian monuments being buried in the sands, and not a few pharaohs had simply chiseled out the names of predecessors, as Thutmose III had done with many of Hatshepsut’s inscriptions. An Egyptian text known as “Berlin Papyrus 3024” laments that those “who build in granite and who hew out chambers in pyramids” are soon forgotten, and one of the Egyptian Harpers’ Songs wryly observes that even those who were once gods (i.e., the pharaohs) lie forgotten in their tombs.

1:11 Only a handful of people are remembered for more than a generation.

1:11 There is no remembrance of former things, nor … of later things. Or, if the reading in the footnote is accepted, “There is no remembrance of former people … nor … of later people” (see Lev. 26:45; Deut. 19:14; Eccles. 4:16). As the generations come and go (1:4), there are very few people who make any significant impact on the course of world history; the majority of the human race lives and dies in obscurity. The seemingly never-ending march of human generations thus appears to be as purposeless as the repetitive cycles of the natural world.

1:12–18 After the opening poem highlighting the themes of life’s futility and brevity (vv. 3–11), the author describes his search for understanding. He explains that he applied himself to understand every aspect of life on earth, concluding that life is absurd and senseless (vv. 13–14). By presenting himself as the model of wisdom (v. 16), he gives legitimacy to his conclusion.

1:12–13a. Qohelet here switched to the first person, as if giving his personal journal about his search for meaning under the sun. His investigation was extensive, involving all that has been done under heaven. And it is competent. If Qohelet is Solomon, one can scarcely imagine a more qualified investigator for this task. As king over Israel in Jerusalem, he had all the resources necessary to conduct the search (v. 16). And with his wisdom he could conduct his investigation carefully, thoroughly, and accurately.

1:12–18 On Wisdom

Education and intellectual pursuits fail to satisfy our deepest needs. The task of the intellectual, the quest to understand life, is itself a hopeless endeavor. The proverb in 1:15 indicates this: “What is twisted cannot be straightened”; that is, no one can solve an insoluble problem. “What is lacking cannot be counted”; that is, no one can add up unknown sums. We cannot understand life because the problem is too complex, and there is too much we do not know. Only the one who is from above (John 8:23) can answer our deepest needs.

1:12 There is some disagreement concerning the identity of the person spoken of here. See note on v. 1.

12 This verse has all the marks of an introduction, and has been regarded by many as the true beginning of Qoheleth’s book. It is worth noting that the association with David (1:1) is absent from this verse. The impact of “was king” has been variously interpreted. In a straight aorist sense, it could mean that he is no longer king. This gave rise to the Talmudic legend (Sanh. 26b; Giṭ. 68b) that Solomon was deposed toward the end of his life. It is better to understand the verb as present perfect (“I have been and still am”). Hence Qoheleth is well able to carry out the projects that he will speak of.

13 He states his purpose somewhat redundantly in v 13a (“explore” is used of the scouting party in Num 13:2). His emphasis on wisdom as a guiding principle (see the Notes) is found also in 2:3, 9 and 7:23. As W. Zimmerli remarks, this is the “principle of questioning,” the approach of a tough-minded thinker who is not satisfied with the view of his optimistic ancestors. He immediately characterizes this God-given task as an evil or unfortunate imposition (cf. 4:8; 5:13; 8:16). This phrase is a suggestive one, and the mood is reflected in 3:10. The transition to v 14 is all the easier. The mention of God (for the first time) in v 13 and God’s “giving” are important for understanding some basic presuppositions of this book. It is to be interpreted within Qoheleth’s own religious traditions: God controls everything and grants “gifts,” even if arbitrarily. This is all part of the inscrutable divine action, which defies understanding.

1:13 The author states his intention to wisely examine life. Compare vv. 17; 12:10.

1:13 The Preacher perceives that in this world God has given an unhappy business, i.e., a troubling or burdensome task, to the children of man. The same Hebrew phrase occurs in 4:8 and 5:14 (“bad venture”), where it refers to the burdens and trials experienced by those who live under heaven (this phrase is interchangeable with the expression “under the sun”; cf. 1:14). For some inscrutable reason, God ordains that mankind should endure painful experiences in this present fallen order.

1:13b–15. His first reflection was that God has afflicted man with a grievous task (v. 13b). All man’s works … under the sun are not only vanity (hebel) but are also a striving after wind (v. 14). The imagery of chasing after the wind connotes both frustration (one can never capture it) and futility (and even if one did catch it, he would have nothing). The supporting proverb (v. 15) highlights two points: (1) there is something fundamentally wrong with the world (it is crooked and lacking), and (2) man can do nothing to change it (because God is behind this; cf. 7:13).

14 The “deeds” are the events that make up the fabric of human life, and they are inseparable from the “work of God” that will be explicitly mentioned later (7:13; 8:17). The metaphor of chasing the wind is self-explanatory, since the wind, changeable and invisible, yields nothing, even were it to be caught. This is the first single occurrence of הבל “vanity,” the favorite term.

1:14 The Preacher examined everything under the sun, just as he set out to do (v. 13). However, he is unable to comprehend it all and draws the conclusion that everything is vanity (see note on v. 2) and a striving after wind. This latter expression is almost always directly linked with the word for “vanity” (see 2:11, 17, 26; 4:4; 6:9).

1:14 The crumbling of human works makes life pointless, unless there is relief in God. Knocking down false ambitions creates a longing for the relief that will come in Christ (Matt. 11:28–30).

1:15 Crooked is to b

1:14 Observation of the natural world is a key characteristic of Wisdom literature.

As he examines life, the author reaches the conclusion that all is senseless and futile. “Striving after the wind” is often paralleled with hevel and indicates futile activity (see note on 2:17).

Key Themes

1. The tragic reality of the fall. The Preacher is painfully aware that the creation has been “subjected to futility” and is “groaning … in the pains of childbirth” (Rom. 8:20, 22), and his more troubled musings are to be viewed as the cry of the heart of one who likewise is “groaning inwardly” as he eagerly awaits the resurrection age (see Rom. 8:23). It is especially noteworthy that when Paul refers to the creation being “subjected to futility,” the Greek word he uses (mataiotēs) is the one utilized 38 times in the lxx version of Ecclesiastes to render the word “vanity” (Hb. hebel), indicating that this book might well have formed the background to Paul’s thought in Romans 8:18ff. The emphasis on the fall and its disastrous effects is closely related to the book’s other key themes described below.

2. The “vanity” of life. The book begins and ends with the exclamation, “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity” (Eccles. 1:2; 12:8). While “vanity” is obviously a key word throughout the book (its 38 occurrences account for more than half of its total usage in the OT), it is notoriously difficult to translate. Literally the word means “vapor” (see ESV footnote on 1:2) and conjures up a picture of something fleeting, ephemeral, and elusive, with different nuances to be ascertained from each context. When applied to human undertakings or the pleasures and joys of earthly life, it indicates that “the present form of this world is passing away” (1 Cor. 7:31); applied to the darker realities of living in a fallen world (e.g., death), it expresses frustration, anger, or sorrow; applied to the Preacher’s search for understanding of all things, it indicates something that remained incomprehensible or inscrutable to him (e.g., Eccles. 1:14–15). This last-mentioned usage is particularly significant, as the book presents itself as primarily a quest to “figure out” all of life (see esp. 1:12–18).

3. Sin and death. Human beings forfeited the righteousness they originally possessed before God (7:29), and thus all people are sinners (7:20). The opening chapters of Genesis make it clear that death was a result of the fall (Gen. 2:16–17; 3:19), and the Preacher is only too aware of this dreadful reality that affects everyone (e.g., Eccles. 2:14–17; 3:18–21; 6:6).

4. The joy and the frustration of work. God gave Adam work to accomplish prior to the fall (Gen. 2:15), but part of the punishment of his sin was that it would become painful toil (Gen. 3:17–19). Both realities are borne out in the Preacher’s experience, as he finds his work to be both satisfying (Eccles. 2:10, 24; 3:22; 5:18–20; 9:9–10) as well as aggravating (2:18–23; 4:4ff.).

5. The grateful enjoyment of God’s good gifts. The Preacher spends a great deal of time commenting on the twisted realities of a fallen world, but this does not blind him to the beauty of the world God created (3:11) or cause him to despise God’s good gifts of human relationships, food, drink, and satisfying labor (2:24–26; 3:12–13; 5:18–20; 7:14; 8:15; 9:7, 9). These are to be received humbly and enjoyed fully as blessings from God.

6. The fear of God. The fact that “all is vanity” should drive people to take refuge in God, whose work endures forever (3:14) and who is a “rock” for those who take shelter in him (e.g., Ps. 18:2; 62:8; 94:22). In other words, it summons people to “fear” or “revere” God (see notes on Eccles. 3:14; 5:7; 12:13–14; cf. also 7:18 and 8:12–13).

History of Salvation Summary

The history of salvation is the grand overarching story of the Bible; embracing it gives coherence to all of life. It calls each of God’s people to own the story, and it dignifies each one with a role in the further outworking of the story. Nevertheless it is impossible for any human being to fully grasp how his or her decisions will contribute to God’s grand scheme; and Ecclesiastes helps people to see that they do not have to understand this. Each of the faithful, by “fearing God and keeping his commandments” (12:13), participates in ways that he cannot “find out,” trusting that God will take care of the big plan. Despite the fact that the Preacher is a great king and a teacher of true wisdom, he ultimately surpasses Solomon and others (1:16; 2:7, 9). From a Christian theological perspective, reading the biblical story line as a whole, one can see analogies between the Preacher and Jesus Christ who is the “Son of David” (Matt. 1:1), king (Matt. 2:2; Acts 17:7; Rev. 17:14; 19:16), “wisdom from God” (1 Cor. 1:24, 30), and “one Shepherd” (Ezek. 34:23; 37:24; John 10:11, 16), in whose ministry “something greater than Solomon” has arrived (Luke 11:31). (For an explanation of the “History of Salvation,” see the Overview of the Bible. See also History of Salvation in the Old Testament: Preparing the Way for Christ.)

Literary Features

Although Ecclesiastes is wisdom literature, it does not read like a typical collection of proverbs. The proverbs are molded into clusters, and furthermore there is a unifying plot line that organizes the units together. The units fall into the three categories of recollections, reflections, and mood pieces. All of these are expressed by a narrator who in effect tells the story of his quest to find satisfaction in life. This quest is reconstructed from the vantage point of someone whose quest ended satisfactorily. The transitions between units often keep the quest in view: “so I turned to consider,” “again I saw,” “then I saw,” etc. As the quest unfolds, one is continuously aware of the discrepancy between the narrator’s present outlook and his futile search undertaken in the past. In effect, the speaker recalls the labyrinth of dead ends that he pursued, recreating his restless past with full vividness but not representing it as his mature outlook. Along with the narrative thread, the observational format of much of the material gives the book a meditative cast.

This mini-anthology is strongly unified by recurrent words and motifs. The phrase “under the sun” or its equivalent occurs more than 30 times. The Hebrew words translated “vanity” (hebel; see Key Themes, point 2) and “find” (matsa’; see Theme and Interpretation of Ecclesiastes) appear throughout the book and suggest the fleetingness of any human being’s grasp of the full meaning of events. To keep the reader rooted in the real world, the author repeatedly uses the imagery of eating, drinking, toil, sleep, death, and the cycles of nature.

The proverb is the basic building block of the book. While all wisdom literature tends to make use of the resources of poetry, including the verse form of parallelism, the book of Ecclesiastes flaunts its poetic medium much more than ordinary wisdom literature does. The author is a master of image, metaphor, and simile. The book is partly observational and descriptive in format; one should approach such passages in a meditative way, reflecting on experience of the phenomena that the author describes. The book is also very affective, so the reader needs to be receptive of the moods that it seeks to instill.

We should not expect to find “meaning” in life or to experience self-fulfillment in life apart from following God.

• The author is talking not about what should be pursued in a faith/covenant context but about what should not be pursued from a worldly perspective.

• We are to enjoy life’s good times as gifts from God’s hand and to accept adversity.