Now that’s a fun title. Fun because I know, and you know, I cannot provide you with a single, definitive answer to the question: What does Ecclesiastes mean? But I wanted to take a moment to introduce the book itself, as many may not be familiar with it.
Whether you realize it or not, you’ve heard it. If you’ve been to a funeral, you know at least some of Ecclesiastes. “There is a time to be born, a time to die”… and so on. But like most books from the Bible, it is more than just its one specific use.
Following last week, I wanted to introduce the book itself, something I haven’t taken the time to do before. Why are we looking at Ecclesiastes? Of course, what does Ecclesiastes mean? And why do I mention it so much? These are some of the questions I hope to answer.
The Classic Christian Interpretation: Solomon’s Warning
Let’s start with authorship. I mentioned in my last post that Ecclesiastes was my mom’s favorite book of the Bible. My mom accepted what I will call the “classic Christian” approach. This interpretation, while not exegetically sound, is quite beautiful, admittedly.
King Solomon is often revered as the “wisest man” who ever lived. This is largely because of the story in 1 Kings 3, where God tells Solomon to ask for anything, and he requests wisdom.
In the tradition I was raised in, Solomon left us with two books. One I loved… the other I could never understand. Outside of the academy, Solomon is believed to be the author of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. Proverbs is a book of instructions for living a Godly life. I always loved Proverbs; who doesn’t?! But if Proverbs is a book of instruction… then what does Ecclesiastes mean in that same context?
A Life Apart from God
In the classic view, Ecclesiastes is a warning. Solomon may have been wise beyond his years, but it doesn’t end there. He also had 700 wives and 300 concubines, per 1 Kings 11:3. He began to worship other gods (1 Kings 11:6). He manipulated King Hiram of Tyre in a land deal (1 Kings 9:10-11). Solomon battles some demons, that’s for sure.
And so, as he navigated life without God, he learned how painful a life without God is. Thus, he writes Ecclesiastes as a warning for the people not to wander into idolatry. Because life apart from God is futile; but when we worship God and enjoy God’s gifts, we find the “true” meaning of life.
Again, while this does not hold up under the microscope, it is beautiful and inspiring.
The Greek Connection: What’s in a Name?
Do we know anything about the author of Ecclesiastes?
Yes, actually, we do! Just very little… one word. The title.
It’s such a weird word, especially for those outside of theological studies. So, let’s do a quick analysis of the Greek word Ecclesiastes. Perhaps a bit of Hebrew 101 too, if you’re feeling daring.
The title of the book we know today is taken right out of the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible.
The root word is Ekklesia, which many know to mean church (“ecclesiology” being the study of the church). Let’s strip it of the Christian context, since we are discussing a Jewish text? Permission granted? Great. Other possible, non-Christianized meanings of ekklesia include assembly or gathering.
Etymology: Ἐκκλησιαστής (Ekklēsiastēs) is derived from ek (“out”) + kaleo (“to call”), meaning “one who calls out/summons” or a speaker at a public assembly.
So that is the Book of Ecclesiastes. The book of the Speaker, Teacher, or (disgustingly; reserved only for the old schoolers of the classic view) the Preacher.
Ecclesiastes is the Greek translation for the Hebrew “Qoheleth.” They mean the same thing, just in two different biblical languages. Why we stuck with the Greek term and not the Hebrew is beyond me…
So I like to differentiate between the two. Generally, I try to use Ecclesiastes when I am referring to the book, and Qoheleth when I am discussing the author. I still slip up from time to time, but that happens when you give yourself rules to follow.
Genre: Wisdom Literature and the Art of Being Polemical
For no reason in particular, I saved genre for last. And if you ever attended church, you probably already know that Ecclesiastes falls under the wisdom literature, alongside Proverbs, Song of Songs, and some Psalms.
But what is wisdom literature? I will not try to define wisdom itself here, but we can consider the function of the genre.
Very broadly speaking, wisdom literature teaches how to live. It provides practical information for navigating everyday situations, such as relationships, finances, conflict, etc. In a sense, it attempts to provide a “rational” approach to faith. It is not exclusive to Judaic literature, as evidenced in works such as the Egyptian “Dialogue Between a Man and His Ba,” a deeply fascinating text bearing striking similarities to Ecclesiastes.
It all sounds so hopeful, doesn’t it?
Wrong. It rarely ever is. The Man and His Ba is, in a nutshell, about a man debating whether he should end his life. Job tells of a man who gets tortured by God as part of some divine wager with God’s own heavenly council. Ecclesiastes says all is hebel, which some translate as “meaningless.” Both Job and Ecclesiastes commend death over birth (cf. Job 3:11-26; Ecc. 4:2-3). And Song of Songs is usually overlooked in Christianity because… well,
“Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, that feed among the lilies.” Song of Songs 4:5, NRSVUE
I never heard a sermon preached on that, but my goodness would I love to.
Challenging Conventional Wisdom
But wisdom literature can also be a bit polemical. Common to the HB wisdom literature, there is an element of challenging “conventional wisdom.” That is, outright rejecting sayings like “The customer is always right” or “fat makes you fat”… both of which are fine to move on from in the 21st century.
I would argue that Ecclesiastes is more polemical than the other wisdom writings. I say this because there isn’t exactly a resolve for the Teacher. Job gets to speak to God and gets back what he lost. In Song of Songs, the two lovebirds have each other and God; what more could they possibly want?
Qoheleth seems to be the third wheel. There is no payoff. There are only three things one can ever really do: enjoy their work, despite its futility (cf. 3:12-13, 22; 1:2-3, 14). Another is to fear God (more on that later!). The last is this:
“So I commend enjoyment, for there is nothing better for people under the sun than to eat and drink and enjoy themselves, for this will go with them in their toil through the days of life that God gives them under the sun.” Ecc. 8:15
Enjoy Your Life
There’s an underlying theme in these books that I never heard in church. That is this: enjoy your damn life. Carpe diem. Latin for “seize the day.”
Sex is good. Eating and drinking are good. Relaxing is good. These things are all fine—as my mother would say, and I would agree—in moderation. For Qoheleth, life is not exclusively about eating and drinking. But just because things suck does not mean we must suffer a vain (in the modern sense) life solely because we will never amount to anything else.
We should enjoy it because God gave it to us. For Qoheleth, God gave us the ability to find enjoyment. God furthermore gave us the ability to produce, let alone enjoy, bread and wine. As my evangelistic upbringing emphasizes, God even gave us sex—except, in such a case, it is only to please God. Why should we say these things are sinful and never to be touched?
The Bane of Fundamentalism
Qoheleth is the bane of every fundamentalist’s existence. It is quite difficult to be a fundamentalist and read Ecclesiastes, without skipping things. It makes them uncomfortable. By them, I mean my former self. Good. It should. It is not a bad form of uncomfortability.
Qoheleth merely begs us to ask: is a life under the sun really only worth living when operating under a rigid, legalistic divine order at all times? Were we given no capacity to enjoy life? For as far as we know, this is the only life we have. After all, there is no “knowledge or wisdom in Sheol, to which you are going” (9:10). Sheol, that is where you’re going, for Qoheleth. End of story.
So then, if we are to enjoy life… why don’t we?