Synopsis
The book of Ecclesiastes stands as one of the most confusing and controversial books in the Hebrew Bible. The author, Qoheleth, interrogates concepts of meaning, justice, and value “under the sun,” frequently leading him to the declaration that it, too, is hebel. Within the book, God, addressed solely as Elohim, remains frustratingly distant. Qoheleth, I find, exhibits a theology of absence. The term hebel, as I will argue, functions as a cosmic protest.
I can finally cite myself. That was never the goal, but my thesis is now published. If you wish to do so, you can read the dry, scholarly draft through Emory’s Thesis and Dissertation Database; click here. The goal of producing a version here is to make it more accessible. It has been described as “DENSE,” “a workout,” and “inaccessible.” So, my goal is to explain my thoughts and research as I typically do here. With slightly more personalization.
A Game Plan
Adapting an 82-page thesis to a series of blog posts will be a beast of a task. My bibliography spans four pages, so four or five posts simply will not do. I intend to draw this out as much as possible, without it becoming overbearing. It is, after all, my life’s work, up to this point. I intend to take some pride in sharing it with you.
I will not attempt to provide a roadmap. Although I have solidified an outline, given that it is now published, I learned an important lesson throughout this process: things change. My goal is to break the work down by thematic tensions, not necessarily chapter-by-chapter. In this first post, there is only one task at hand: to dismantle the Sunday School version of Ecclesiastes.
Acknowledgement
This thesis, and the following blog posts, are written in loving memory of my mother and teacher, Elizabeth Young Jenkins, who deeply loved these words “under the sun.” My mother passed away when I was eighteen, in my first year of college. It was her diagnosis and death that led me to the question: why, God?
Mom was deeply devoted to her faith. She read the Bible every day and attended church at least twice a week, until her sickness forbade her from doing so. She raised twelve children, homeschooling each of them at various stages. But honestly, there is much I did not know about her personal walk with the Lord.
But there is one thing I know for certain: she, like me, often had a different favorite book of the Bible. Sometimes it was Psalms. Sometimes Isaiah. And sometimes Jeremiah. Her favorite telling of the nativity was Luke; I take quite a bit of pride in that, given that is whom or what I am named after. But the book I always remember her favoring the most? Ecclesiastes.
The words of King Solomon. A warning about what life without God is like. A book that thrives on honesty and reflection.
As many times as I tried, especially as a child, I could never understand her love for the book. “All is vanity”—huh?! The book bored me. It made no sense. Finally, during a psychiatric crisis, Ecclesiastes kinda sorta made some sense. And in the year following such a crisis, I began this study.
Some things to bear in mind
We are going to move fast, I am learning as I write this. So, let’s consider a few key items.
Hebel (הבל): it occurs 38 times across 12 chapters. It’s obviously important. I leave the term untranslated to preserve its semantic range. In English, hebel is often translated as “vanity,” “meaninglessness,” “futility,” “absurdity,” etc. These translations are fair; however, they only capture fragments of hebel‘s meaning. Literally, hebel is smoke or vapor, that which is here one moment and gone the next. But context reveals Qoheleth’s deep vexation. It is clear that hebel isn’t necessarily good.
Protest: leave your picket signs right where you found them. I know everything is deeply political right now, and always will be, but protest is not exclusively a political act. It is a statement or action expressing strong objection, disapproval, or dissent toward another issue. Such as the phrase “this sucks.” In my interpretation, hebel is an ancient form of “this sucks.” It is a “descriptive dissent.”
Dating: I believe Ecclesiastes was written between 400–200 BCE. This is later than Deutero-Isaiah (6th cent. BCE) and much later than Solomon’s reign (mid-10th cent. BCE). The book possesses a strong Persian or Hellenistic influence. For more information on dating, check out Stuart Weeks, Ecclesiastes 1–5.
A Note on the Hidden/Absent God
The note is simply that God is absent and I, an angsty agnostic, wish to disprove the existence of God.
Not.
Does an absent God not exist? Does a hidden God disprove the entire New Testament? Please hear me out right here, because it is essential. I am not here to disprove your God. My goal is to challenge you, as it was to challenge myself, and what you “know” about God.
The “hidden God” is not a concept from Christopher Hitchens, Richard Dawkins, or even Bart Ehrman. Protestants: it’s from you. The hidden God, in this case the Deus absconditus, is a term generated by Martin Luther himself. Even the text, I find, Qoheleth protests can admit:
“Truly, you are a God who hides himself,
O God of Israel, the Savior.” Isaiah 45:15, NRSVue.
Who is Qoheleth?
As noted before, I try to use “Ecclesiastes” when referring to the literary work and “Qoheleth” when referring to the author. Tradition holds that Solomon, son of King David, wrote Ecclesiastes. However, given its date of composition, this is deeply unlikely. It is one of few spaces in which scholars of Ecclesiastes somewhat agree.
And Qoheleth “wrote” Ecclesiastes, like Paul “wrote” his letters. Except Paul is an actual name; Qoheleth is not. Qoheleth is a title, literally meaning the “teacher, speaker, or assembler.” It can also be the “preacher,” which I am hesitant to employ. Whether Qoheleth is Solomon is beyond the scope of this study; so, Qoheleth or “the Teacher” is used in place of a specific character or writer.
Theodicy, Theodic Negotiation, and Theodic Crisis
One of my least favorite words in the English language is “theodicy.” Some word processing programs rightly do not consider it a word. I find that “theodicy” takes human pain and suffering and turns it into a logical data point for defending God. That’s a valid definition of theodicy. It is an eighteenth century construct that attempts to justify God’s goodness, justice, or omnipotence, a practice foundational to the Hebrew Bible.
But to understand Qoheleth’s view a little better, we need to consult Walter Brueggemann. Brueggemann, a foundational Hebrew Bible scholar, argued that Qoheleth’s struggle arises within a “theodic crisis.” That is what occurs when “theological settlements” (i.e., God is good, God is all-loving, etc.) begin to break down. This, in turn, creates a “theodic negotiation,” where orthodox views and newly voiced challenges collide.
For this study, Qoheleth’s voice emerges with a theology of absence. This theology, I will argue, describes a sovereign God who refuses to intervene in the course of human history. The deity is not totally absent but functions as a distant ruler.
Because the theodic settlements have failed, Qoheleth protests. This protest operates on two distinct fronts. First, Qoheleth protests traditions that portray God as Comforter, especially in Deutero-Isaiah (Isaiah 40–55). Second, Qoheleth protests the state of the world because of God’s hiddenness. Because God does not intervene, humans are left to their own devices, creating a world of oppression, unchecked rivalry, and systemic injustice.
Thus, hebel is the direct result of God’s non-intervention. God is hidden, and thus, everything for Qoheleth becomes hebel (1:2; 12:8; cf. 3:16).
On methodology and God
This study utilizes literary-theological criticism. That is, it treats Ecclesiastes in its final, current form with special attention given to ambiguity, repetition, and contradiction. Following Robert Alter’s framework, it holds that the biblical authors deliberately fashioned prose as artful discourse. This methodology seeks to uncover the deeper theological significance in the text, paying close attention to the characterization of God.
For more than a few scholars, Qoheleth’s theology is quite troubling. For Michael E.W. Thompson, an Old Testament scholar and former lecturer at the University of Manchester, God is defined by such a distance that even approaching God is hazardous. My primary interlocutor in the thesis, President of the Società Biblica in Italia Luca Mazzinghi, beautifully and painfully says:
The result is that Qoheleth is obliged to live not without God, but without a saving God. Qoheleth would not be an atheist, but his God would no longer be the God of Israel’s faith.
As such, Qoheleth’s protest is theological, rather than strictly political. It is a descriptive dissent, where Qoheleth describes the way things are, exposing the incoherence between how they are and how they should be. This is especially true of 3:16, where Qoheleth finds wickedness existing in the places of righteousness and justice.
This theme is a significant point of discussion in contemporary scholarship. Brittany Melton, for instance, encourages questions such as “How present is God? or how is God present?” over “Is God present or absent?” Ecclesiastes is deeply nuanced, and so is my argument about Ecclesiastes. Nothing here operates on the binary of “God or no God.” For this study, God is real. But God is nuanced.
Following Melton and former Candler professor Carol A. Newsom, a central framework is Mikhail Bakhtin’s “dialogical truth.” Drawing on Bakhtin, Melton and Newsom argue that biblical “truth” often emerges dialogically. That is, from dialogue. Take, for instance, Job. Any theological “truths” arise from the dialogues between Job and his friends, Job and himself, and Job and God. We could also consider how heavily redacted Job is… but we are not concerned with Job.
Ecclesiastes is a monologue, at first glance. It was written as the words of a former King of Israel. It is, honestly, a one-man show. But Qoheleth is not handing us a shopping list.
Qoheleth is examining everything, from streams and the seas (1:7) to ointments and the days of death and birth (7:1). He is conducting an endless experiment and inviting us to join. Or, as one of my professors argues in her dissertation, he is guiding us through a labyrinth.
The second and third verses I treat in this study both begin with “I said to myself…” (3:17–18). There is a lot of this in Ecclesiastes. There are numerous books on Qoheleth’s “inner dialogue.” He is not speaking into the wind, and he is not having a couple beers with some friends. He is undergoing his own theodic crisis.
Conclusion
This one post covers about 5 or 6 pages. And still, I feel that it is too “dense.” But it is necessary for grounding. The study of Qoheleth is not simple; it requires patience, openness, and LOTS of frustration. After all, “in much wisdom is much vexation, and those who increase knowledge increase sorrow” (1:18).
The warning was right there. But I still wanted to know what Qoheleth meant.
The section my thesis deals with is Ecclesiastes 3:16–5:8. In this section, Qoheleth observes injustice, oppression, the value of friendship, reverence before God, dreams, more oppression, and finally, earthly/cosmic hierarchies.
That is a lot. 82 pages was hardly enough; I have no clue how many blog posts it will take. But I am wrestling with a question I have had for many years:
Qoheleth says there is “no one” to comfort the oppressed (4:1). Where is God? We should “not be amazed” if we witness “oppression of the poor and the violation of justice and right.” Why? “…because the high official is watched by a higher, and there are yet higher ones over them” (Ecc. 5:8). What does this say about God?
The issue for Qoheleth isn’t just that he became a prodigal son. It’s that whether he runs or whether he remains faithful, the world still operates the same. The wind blows, the streams flow, and the oppressed remain without comfort. That isn’t only so because he lived apart from God.
The issue is not living apart from God. It is living in a world where whether he is righteous or wicked, God will not intervene to stop things from being as they are. That’s just the way it is.