Under the Sun Life and Reality in the

Book of Kohelet Das Alte Testament im

Dialog An Outline of an Old Testament
Dialogue Shamai Gelander
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmeta.com/product/under-the-sun-life-and-reality-in-the-book-of-kohelet-d
as-alte-testament-im-dialog-an-outline-of-an-old-testament-dialogue-shamai-gelander
-2/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...

Under the Sun Life and Reality in the Book of Kohelet

Das Alte Testament im Dialog An Outline of an Old
Testament Dialogue Shamai Gelander

https://ebookmeta.com/product/under-the-sun-life-and-reality-in-
the-book-of-kohelet-das-alte-testament-im-dialog-an-outline-of-
an-old-testament-dialogue-shamai-gelander/

The Religious Experience in the Book of Psalms Das Alte

Testament im Dialog An Outline of an Old Testament
Dialogue Shamai Gelander

https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-religious-experience-in-the-
book-of-psalms-das-alte-testament-im-dialog-an-outline-of-an-old-
testament-dialogue-shamai-gelander/

Ruth Bridges and Boundaries Das Alte Testament im

Dialog An Outline of an Old Testament Dialogue Jonathan
Grossman

https://ebookmeta.com/product/ruth-bridges-and-boundaries-das-
alte-testament-im-dialog-an-outline-of-an-old-testament-dialogue-
jonathan-grossman/

The Old Testament in the New An Introduction 2nd

Edition Steve Moyise

https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-old-testament-in-the-new-an-
introduction-2nd-edition-steve-moyise/
The Book of Hosea New International Commentary on the
Old Testament NICOT Dearman J Andrew

https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-book-of-hosea-new-
international-commentary-on-the-old-testament-nicot-dearman-j-
andrew/

The living world of the Old Testament 4th Edition

Bernhard W. Anderson

https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-living-world-of-the-old-
testament-4th-edition-bernhard-w-anderson/

The Song of Songs Tyndale Old Testament Commentary 19

1st Edition Iain M Duguid

https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-song-of-songs-tyndale-old-
testament-commentary-19-1st-edition-iain-m-duguid/

Christ in the Old Testament Free Grace Broadcaster

Issue 259 1st Edition Various

https://ebookmeta.com/product/christ-in-the-old-testament-free-
grace-broadcaster-issue-259-1st-edition-various/

An Analysis of N T Wright s The New Testament and the

People of God 1st Edition Benjamin Laird

https://ebookmeta.com/product/an-analysis-of-n-t-wright-s-the-
new-testament-and-the-people-of-god-1st-edition-benjamin-laird/
DAS ALTE TESTAMENT IM DIALOG
an outline of an old testament dialogue

Band / Vol. 12

Herausgegeben von / edited by

Michael Fieger & Sigrid Hodel-Hoenes

PETER LANG
Bern • Berlin • Bruxelles • New York • Oxford • Wien
 Shamai Gelander

Under the Sun

Life and Reality in the Book of

Kohelet

PETER LANG
Bern • Berlin • Bruxelles • New York • Oxford • Wien
Bibliographic information published by die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek
Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche
Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data is available on the Internet at
‹http://dnb.d-nb.de›.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data: A catalogue record for this book is

available from The British Library, Great Britain

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017958904

Translation by J. Orr-Stav.

Umschlaggestaltung: Thomas Jaberg, Peter Lang AG

Umschlagabbildung: © Lichtbildwerk, Olaf Gloeckler, Atelier Platen, Friedberg

ISSN 1662-1689
ISBN 978-3-0343-3122-7 (Print)
E-ISBN 978-3-0343-3123-4 (ePDF)
E-ISBN 978-3-0343-3124-1 (ePub)
E-ISBN 978-3-0343-3125-8 (Mobi)

This publication has been peer reviewed.

© Peter Lang AG, International Academic Publishers, Bern 2018
Wabernstrasse 40, CH-3007 Bern, Switzerland
info@peterlang.com, www.peterlang.com

All rights reserved.

All parts of this publication are protected by copyright.
Any utilisation outside the strict limits of the copyright law, without the permission
of the publisher, is forbidden and liable to prosecution.
This applies in particular to reproductions, translations, microfilming, and storage
and processing in electronic retrieval systems.
About the author

Shamai Gelander (*1931) is a graduate of the Hebrew University

and the University of Tel Aviv and holds a PhD in biblical studies. He
served as a senior lecturer of biblical studies at the Haifa University
and of jewish studies at the University of Tel Aviv. He was a visiting
professor in Oxford and served as chairman of the department of
biblical studies and as academic director (rector) of the college
«Oranim».
About the book

This book presents the Book of Ecclesiastes as a single coherent

work, whose ideas are consistent and collectively form a
comprehensive worldview. Moreover, in contrast to the prevailing
view in the research literature – it presents the Book of Ecclesiastes
as a work with an essentially positive outlook: Kohelet’s fault-finding
is aimed not at the world itself, or how it functions, but at the people
who persist in missing out on the present, on what it has to offer,
and of the ability to enjoy all that exists and is available. Contrasting
with these are Koheleth’s positive perscriptions to make the most of
the present. To my mind, his remonstrations are meant to «clear the
way» for his positive recommendations – to clear the path, as it
were, of the obstacles to accepting reality. These two aspects, the
negative and the positive, come together in this investigation into
Koheleth’s belief, which is founded on an acceptance of all that God
has created.
This eBook can be cited

This edition of the eBook can be cited. To enable this we have

marked the start and end of a page. In cases where a word
straddles a page break, the marker is placed inside the word at
exactly the same position as in the physical book. This means that
occasionally a word might be bifurcated by this marker.
Table of contents

Introduction
Chapter 1: Escaping from reality
Escape to the future
On the attempts at insuring against future
mishaps
On the acquisition of skills, traits, and excellence
Against distinction and in praise of the average
The relative nature of values
Absolute justice versus existing world order
Other aspects of coming to terms with realities
and limitations
Escaping to the past
Interim summary
Chapter 2: The positive aspect
Eat and drink: Between despair and faith
Cast Thy Bread
Between determinism and free will
 Concluding observations
Chapter 3:Koheleth and his beliefs
On justice and injustice
Koheleth and his God
Interim summary
Chapter 4: The opening verses and coda
Opening verses (Eccles. 1)
Coda (12:1–8)
Conclusion
Epilogue: The structure of the Book of Ecclesiastes
Bibliography
Abbreviations: Translations, magazines, series and
files
←6|7→

Introduction

The main purpose of this study is to present the Book of Koheleth

(Ecclesiastes) as a work whose diverse elements merge to form a
coherent worldview regarding a person’s lifestyle, reality and beliefs.
Fundamentally, we shall see that Koheleth’s approach is governed by
a set of ideas that might be thought of as a general notion of what
constitutes a “righteous life”—in the name of which he castigates
anything that he perceives to be an obstacle—namely, whatever he
perceives to be a hallmark of a “misguided life.” His criticisms and
condemnation are primarily intended to serve the “right way,” and to
pave the way toward it. Thus, these two aspects—the negative and
the positive—join to form a comprehensive picture, rather than a
mere compilation of aphorisms that reflect a bleak outlook on life, or
a compendium of occasionally contradictory statements. Observing
his critical arguments in conjunction with his positive
recommendations also allows us to understand Koheleth’s faith and
his attitude to his God as a unified ideology. Moreover, the addition
of the negative and positive clarifies the ideological meanings of the
first and final chapters of the Book of Ecclesiastes, as they are
revealed to provide a poetic framework for the ideological messages
in the book as a whole.
Koheleth’s declaration that “a living dog is better than a dead
lion” (9:4) is, I believe an extreme statement that might be viewed
as the essence, or starting point, of his outlook. It means that any
form of life, however humble, is preferable to any death—however
honorable or noble. In other words, life is a supreme goal above all
others and not a means to achieving other aims. This outlook runs
counter to any faith that demands a person to be willing to dedicate
—or indeed, sacrifice—themselves for its sake. It runs counter to the
biblical belief—at least as exemplified in the stories of Abraham
onwards—that one should not only abandon one’s past and go
wherever God instructs one to go, but to follow the ways of the Lord
throughout one’s life (Gen. 17:1), and even be willing to sacrifice
one’s nearest and dearest to Him. Koheleth’s radical view on this
topic has various ramifications, some consequential, and some
leading up to and supporting it. ← 7 | 8 →
The traditional criticism of Koheleth probably springs from
reservations about his rejectionist attitude. However, modern-day
criticism of him is based primarily on the apparent absence of
method in his writings, ideologically as well as structurally.
One dominant approach in the research literature sees the Book
of Ecclesiastes as primarily a compilation of maxims, rather like the
Book of Proverbs. Koheleth appears to inherit the traditional wisdom
that preceded him, but then sets out to refute it based on his
personal experience.1 This suggests that the Book of Ecclesiastes is
not a systematic doctrine, and its various maxims do not add up to a
consistent and coherent philosophy.2 It would also appear that it
does not spring from a comprehensive worldview, but rather from a
variety of critical approaches that he acquired over the years, in
contrast to prevailing views. Moreover, since it is a compilation, it
also includes various contradictory adages:3 it is customary to see
the passages where Koheleth hails the positive aspects of life and
the wonders of nature as problematic and exceptional, since the
predominant mood in the Book of Ecclesiastes is pessimistic and
gloomy,4 or he presents certain maxims in an ironic light.5 Some
commentators go as far as to attribute these apparent contradictions
and deviations to the authors of later addenda, most of whom
appear to have sought to temper some of Koheleth’s more extreme
views. ← 8 | 9 → 6
Conversely, some scholars have sought to find in the Book of
Ecclesiastes a measure of coherence.7 Some have proposed that it
has a single unified structure, while others have suggested that to a
literary or artistic structure in certain passengers or parts of the
book. Wright’s commentary, I believe, is a clear example of the
former category:8 while others believe that Ecclesiastes, like the
Book of Proverbs, is nothing but a disparate collection of sayings,9
and others detect an underlying consonance and even evolutionary
threads within the book,10 Wright focuses exclusively on its
structure, irrespective of any ideological unity. In his comprehensive
review of structural analyses by others, he finds that the
overwhelming majority tend to sum up or label a sequence of ideas
with a succinct heading, and as such risk adopting a subjective view.
For this reason, he says, he prefers a structural analysis that focuses
on the morphological features rather than the ideological content, to
ensure “Objective methodology.”11 To that end, he presents the
entire book as being based on a symmetrical and concentric
structure. For example, he finds a key pattern in chapters 9 and 10,
which he labels Man Does Not Know, and a similar pattern
surrounding the phrases “who can” or “shall not find” in chapters 7
and eight. ← 9 | 10 →
However, closer examination raises casts doubts on this
interpretation: the pattern Man Does Not Know appears in chapters
9 and 10 only three times in contexts that match Wright’s description
(9:10, 12; 10:15), but also appears in other contexts (e.g. 11:2, 5,
6). Similarly, the phrases who can and shall not find also appear in
chapters 7 and 8 only three times (7:13, 14; 7:28–29). Although
these expressions might be seen as an ideological essence of their
wider context—in that they center on man’s limited ability to foresee
the expected in a bid to control his future—these chapters contain
not only rejectionist statements but also positive and prescriptive
statements such as 7:1–5, 13. Hence, classifying patterns simply by
ideological themes also suffers from the same problem that Wright
found in his predecessors’ interpretations: while there is no disputing
that eight passages in the book end with the words “Vanity and
vexation of spirit,” it is doubtful that each one of these passages is
also a discrete literary unit in its own right. Generally, defining any
given unit by its opening or concluding verse is too simplistic: it
might equally suit another unit, or involve a certain constraint. Thus,
for example, Wright labels the first part of the book, after the
opening, under the heading Koheleth’s Examination of Life: this is
too generic, as it might equally apply to other parts of the book,
since pronouncements about the meaning of life may be found
throughout, as I shall demonstrate in the course of this inquiry. His
heading for the second half of this first part (6:10–11:6)—Koheleth’s
Conclusions on Various Issues—is also questionable, since
throughout the book, many of the declarations that appear in the
form of declarative statements are in fact conclusions that he has
drawn from his own experience. The same is true, for example, for
the labeling of one of the secondary sections under the heading I
Should Leave it Unto the Man that Shall Be After Me (2:18–26). In
my view, Koheleth’s negative attitude to the suggestion that a
person must dedicate their life to the future is evident in the book in
his rejectionist declarations as much as in his declarative statements
and in his prescriptive advice (e.g., 11:1–6). Therefore, although
Wright does much to contribute to our understanding of the links
between the central ideas in Ecclesiastes, his attempts to find the
key to Koheleth’s ideology by detecting a schematic structure do not
work well.
Wright’s approach to the issue of structure is even more extreme
when he reverts to numerology. For example, he notes that the
Hebrew word ‫ הבל‬hevel (“vanity”), has a value of 37 in gematria,
and appears 37 times in the book, while the word ‫ דברי‬divrei
(“words of”) has a gematrial value of ← 10 | 11 → 216—like the
number of the verses in the book, etc. As Seow rightly points out,
numerology is a poor basis for deciding structure, since the counting
is inconsistent (Wright concatenates certain verses and combinations
with different ideological meanings, resulting in an arbitrary count)—
and besides, in ancient times the verses were not numbered.12
However, Seow also does not believe that Ecclesiastes is merely a
random collection of sayings. Like Beckhaus, he proposes a fairly
symmetrical structure of two halves of roughly equivalent size (the
dividing point being 6:16): the first half, from 1:2–6:9—with two
subsections that he labels Everything is Fleeting and Meaningless
and Morality Means Dealing with Everything that is in Doubt)—and
the second (headed Everything is Elusive) from 6:10–12:8. The
former is made up of two subsections—one headed Everything is
Fleeting and Meaningless, which in turn subdivides into Introduction
(1:2–11); Nothing Lasts for Long (1:12–26); Everything is in God’s
hands (3:1–22); and Relative “Good” is Not Really Good (4:1–16)—
and the other Morality Means Dealing with Everything that is in
Doubt, which consists of The author’s Attitude to God (5:1–7), and
Pleasure, Not Greed (5:8–6:9). The second half—Everything is
Elusive—is subdivided into No One Knows What is Good (6:10–
7:14); The Elusiveness of Justice and Wisdom (7:15–29); The world
as an Arbitrary Entity (8:7). The section Morality Means Dealing with
Everything that is in Doubt contains the sections Carpe Diem (9:1–
10); The World is Full of Risks (9:11–10:15); Living with Risks
(10:16–11:16); and Summary (11:7–12:8).
In my view, this division, too, is somewhat willful, since quite a
few passages in the book could fall under the same headings, and
the definitions themselves are a matter of debate. Thus, for
example, the notion of making the most of the present and of the
world around oneself, appears several times in various guises
throughout the book. The schematic division into a pessimistic half
and an optimistic one also does not hold up to scrutiny, as we shall
see later.
Sheppard adopts a more measured approach.13 In his view, the
continuity in the Book of Ecclesiastes is compelling than in the Book
of Proverbs, and its coda (especially 12:13–14) offers a religious
ideology that is identical to that of Ben Sira. ← 11 | 12 →
Other scholars avoid trying to find a coherent structure in the
book or, indeed, demonstrating a consistent ideological philosophy.
Instead they are content to present certain passages as having a
poetic structure—by which they mean not only those that are clearly
of a poetic nature (such as 3:1–8),14 but also many passages of a
seemingly more prosaic character, such as 4:13–16; 5:9–6:9, etc.
While a morphological analysis undoubtedly helps to clarify the
understanding of the passages in their own right, the distinction
between the various literary forms reinforces the impression that the
book is essentially a collection of texts that differ from each other in
terms of their ideas, as well, and as such it is difficult to see the
Book of Ecclesiastes as representing a unified and consistent
worldview.15
However, even those who claim that the book has a uniform
structure, and therefore that Koheleth’s ideology is fundamentally
consistent, agree that a number of statements are “anomalous”
inasmuch as they are at odds ← 12 | 13 → with Koheleth’s precepts
and tone of speech. The prevailing view is to see these verses as the
author’s attempts to “moderate” or to offer a more balanced view
that might otherwise tend to be somewhat extreme. Among the
most prominent of these are:
Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor
(4:9) Keep thy foot when thou goest to the house of God, and be more ready
to hear, than to give the sacrifice of fools: for they consider not that they do
evil. Be not rash with thy mouth, and let not thine heart be hasty to utter any
thing before God: for God is in heaven, and thou upon earth: therefore let thy
words be few. For a dream cometh through the multitude of business; and a
fool’s voice is known by multitude of words. When thou vowest a vow unto
God, defer not to pay it; for he hath no pleasure in fools: pay that which thou
hast vowed. Better is it that thou shouldest not vow, than that thou shouldest
vow and not pay (5:1–5)

and:
A good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the
day of one’ birth (7:1)

and:
Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days (11:1)

When read at face value, one dictum (4:9) talks in praise of

friendship, while another recommends strict religious observation
and honoring commitments (4:17–5:4), another (7:1) praises
personal virtues and integrity over material accomplishments, and
yet a fourth—as we shall see later—recommends relinquishing one’s
daily routine (bread) to the hands of the flow of time (water).
 To my mind, whilst the wisdom literature and the prophetic
literature (such as Isaiah 1: 11[12], and Amos) do feature poetic
prose and passages of true poetry side by side—a change of form
does not necessarily entail a change in ideological message. In the
Hebrew Bible there are many literary works that treat their subjects
differently from what is customary in contemporary philosophical
literature. Rather than subjecting a particular subject to exhaustive
scrutiny then moving on to another topic, the literary unit in biblical
literature often examines several topics in sequence, occasionally in
different forms or styles, and entrusts the reader to elicit what they
have in common. Different aspects are presented of the same topics
or in different guises in other literary units within the same book ←
13 | 14 → —or the reader may find a similar composition of the
same topics in another literary unit—and through the common
denominator of the topics in one unit, the full import of the
ideological message may be appreciated. This method of
presentation becomes apparent as one engages in a detailed
examination of the topics in the Book of Ecclesiastes. Although it is
difficult to define precisely what constitutes a “literary unit,” in most
cases it is a chapter, in others a chapter may encompass more than
one unit, and in still others a given topic may spill over from one
chapter to the next. The link between the topics is often associative,
and the boundaries of a literary unit may exist only subjectively in
the reader’s own mind. Thus, the reader may find each unit to be a
mosaic of topics, that collectively present a particular idea, and
spring from the same approach. This, in effect, is the nature of a
poetic structure. As in lyrical poetry, here, too, the ideological
continuum is not formed by a logical construction or through
narrative development, but rather by means of the common
denominator of a set of images or declarations. No particular topic is
fully explored in any given message or context—but rather, it
appears continually in different ways within the ideological mosaic, in
a different context on each occasion. For example, Koheleth’s
negative attitude to notion of a “life’s work” or dedicating one’s life
to building the future, is evident in his negative declaration such as
2:18–19—
 Yea, I hated all my labor which I had taken under the sun: because I should
leave it unto the man that shall be after me.

And who knoweth whether he shall be a wise man or a fool? yet shall he have
rule over all my labor wherein I have labored, and wherein I have shewed
myself wise under the sun. This is also vanity.

and in a declarative statement such as 11:2–3:

Give a portion to seven, and also to eight; for thou knowest not what evil shall
be upon the earth.

If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon the earth: and if the
tree fall toward the south, or toward the north, in the place where the tree
falleth, there it shall be.

Obviously, these two pronouncements are not identical, and they

appear in different contexts: the former in relation to the issue of
“memory,” (i.e., the futility of trying to elude oblivion and extinction),
and the latter ← 14 | 15 → concerning one’s inability to shield
oneself from unexpected hardships. However, the general message
may lie in what they have in common—namely, that these are
different aspects of “missing out on the present and on life”: by
investing efforts in something that is beyond one’s control, one loses
what life and the present have to offer. It follows that one may also
be able to see, as Wright has observed, that in Koheleth’s words
there is no distinction between the descriptions of his own personal
experience and his theoretical logical arguments, because they are
intertwined. On the contrary, as we shall see in the course of our
inquiry, in the most important issues, such as justice and injustice,
Koheleth repeatedly reiterates, in various ways, how his personal
experience has figured in his conclusions.
When viewed in this way, I believe that one might overcome one
of the two main difficulties in presenting Koheleth’s worldview—
namely, that if indeed the book is representative of a general outlook
on a range of well-defined topics, why is it not presented
methodically according to those topics, instead of as a collection of
statements that appear to jump haphazardly from one issue to
another.
The second difficulty is greater and more serious—i.e., the trap
implicit in the desire to present a range of subjects as a consistent
theory. The risk is that certain verses or passages might be
interpreted by forcing them to fit the commentator’s particular
interpretation, even when they are not necessarily understood as
such in a straightforward reading. These are the expressions,
maxims and passages whose meaning is not unequivocal, and
whose relationship to their context is problematic. If we find that
certain maxims are indeed at odds with the consistent worldview
that I am trying to present, then I shall have to admit that the
general picture has certain gaps, and that the ensemble is not
always consistent. However, if that turns out to be the case, we will
at least know that we have benefited from a renewed examination of
the Book of Ecclesiastes.
I believe that the Book of Ecclesiastes should be viewed as a
composition whose various parts and components combine to form a
comprehensive worldview—in the sense of a theory of the essence
of what the author believes is a “righteous life.” Admittedly, in most
of the book Koheleth rails against misguided views, in statements
cast in denunciatory terms—such as declaring certain lifestyles as a
“sore travail,” a “sore evil,” or as “vanity” (a term whose meaning we
shall explore at greater length later on). However, this rejection is
not, in my view, merely a random collection. The phenomena that
Koheleth is rejecting concern a ← 15 | 16 → range of issues, or a
mosaic, that collectively provide a certain portrayal of a “misguided
life,” and this criticism is clearly governed by what the author
believes to be the “correct” lifestyle.16 This is even more apparent in
the passages where Koheleth has words of praise. Both the
denunciation and the approbation spring, therefore, from a uniform
and consistent starting point: Koheleth, who is confident in his
knowledge of how to make the most of life, decries the various ways
in which people allow the good life to slip out of their hands, by
squandering the present and pursuing paths that diminishes their
ability to appreciate all that is good in the world and its present
constitution. His criticisms throughout the book are aimed at
different forms of “escapism” or “missing out,” as I shall attempt to
demonstrate further below.
One should also note that, since Koheleth deplores the various
ways in which people tend to “avoid” the present in pursuit of
misguided lifestyles, his pronouncements such as “Therefore I hated
life; because the work that is wrought under the sun is grievous unto
me” (2:17) are not aimed at life in general but at a particular action
or series of actions that he speaks of in that context—namely, at one
of the misguided lifestyles. The same is true of the statement later
on in the same verse: “—for all is vanity and vexation of spirit.” In
the course of our inquiry we will find that the word “all” here refers
only to the issues detailed in that particular context. It seems to me
that one of the reasons why Koheleth is thought to have a
fundamentally pessimistic and negative outlook is because it is
thought that these declarations are about life in general, rather than
about specific issues that he addresses in that particular context.17
Like other “wisdom literature”works in the Hebrew Bible, Koheleth
presents his ideas in a style founded on a figurative speech18—with a
clear ← 16 | 17 → preference for metaphor over terminology—
unlike other types of biblical literature (especially the literature of
law and cultic terminology).19 Nonetheless, in the Book of
Ecclesiastes, too, there are also a considerable number of
expressions where the author uses a kind of terminology—as I shall
detail below: some of these appear within a parallelism, some are
accompanied by an explanation, and some appear on their own.
What they all have in common in terms of their appearance is that in
each case the author uses them to clarify his attitude toward a
particular characteristic phenomenon in human behavior, efforts, or
events. This suggests that they constitute a type of terminology,
which contributes to outlining the overall worldview in the book.
Accordingly, I shall attempt to examine the meaning of these
expressions before moving on to detail the various topics that
Koheleth deals with. The following is therefore a preliminary
investigation, which I shall revisit in accordance with each of the
relevant topics:
1. Vanity versus profit:20 I believe these two expressions
should be viewed as opposing notions that frame Koheleth’s
worldview.21 Viewing them in this way may bring us closer to
an accurate understanding of their meaning. Generally,
whatever Koheleth regards as negative or misguided, and
therefore fleeting, with no sustained existence or firm grip on
life, he dubs “vanity” or “vanity of vanities” (including the
expression “the days of his vain life”—e.g., in 6:12).
Conversely, what he regards as true, faithful and enduring or
capable of withstanding the ravages of time, is referred to by
words of the Hebrew root y-t-r in its various forms—e.g.,
yitron (“profit”), motar (“preeminence”), and yoter (“hath
more”). Fundamentally, the starting point of Koheleth’s
ideology is rejection. Although ultimately his aim is to project
a positive attitude toward the world or toward the righteous
life, he primarily censures whatever appears to him to be ←
17 | 18 → distorted and mistaken. In other words, although
his criticism is meant to deliver a positive message about the
righteous life, he focuses his efforts on highlighting the
obstacles and distortions that stand in the way, and therefore
his criticism outweighs his positive prescriptions. Thus, in
most of the passages where the expression vanity appears,
the term profit also appears, but in a negative form22—e.g.
“the profit of the earth is for all” (5:9).23 Similarly, the word
vanity in its various guises24 appears twice as much, if not
more, than the word profit.25 Most commentators, including
the translators, have tended to address the word vanity
without reference to its opposite—even when they discuss
their juxtaposition.26 At this juncture, I will make do with the
← 18 | 19 → explanations I offered above, and attempt to
bolster and focus my claims in the course of my more detailed
examination of Koheleth’s objects of criticism.
2. Happen (Hebrew root: q-r-h). Although the conventional
understanding of this word is “occur”—in the sense of an
unexpected or unplanned event—its context in many places in
the Hebrew Bible suggest that it has an opposite meaning of
 an intentional circumstance that comes about at God’s
instigation. Thus, for example, the words of Abrahams slave
“O Lord God of my master Abraham, I pray thee, send me
good speed this day” (in Hebrew, haqreh-na lefanai—Gen.
24:12), or Jacob’s words to his father “Because the Lord thy
God brought it to me” (Gen. 27:20—in Hebrew, ki hiqrah
adonai eloheikha lefanai); and of course “and her hap was
to light on a part of the field belonging unto Boaz” (Ruth 2:3
—in Hebrew, vayiqer miqreh), etc. In my view, this is
meaning of the root q-r-h in the Book of Ecclesiastes as well—
which is in line with Koheleth’s arguments about how events
are preordained by God.27 The appearance of this word in
association with expressions such as “happeneth to them all”
(“but time and chance happeneth to them all”—9:11)28 is, I
believe, further evidence of this.29 ← 19 | 20 →
3. King (Hebrew: m-l-k). This word, in its various guises,
appears eleven times throughout the book.30 In most
instances its meaning appears to be no different from its
common and conventional meaning of a monarch or supreme
ruler. But on one or perhaps two occasions, it is used in an
apparently metaphorical sense. Since in both these two places
the context is somewhat obscure, an alternative interpretation
might possibly resolve the difficulty if we apply the
metaphorical meaning to the other instances in the book as
well. One is at 5:8—“the profit of the earth is for all: the king
himself is served by the field”31—and the other is 8:2 (“I
counsel thee to keep the king’s commandment, and that in
regard of the oath of God”). In the former instance—
regardless of whether we interpret the word profit as I
proposed above, or as “exceptional virtue” or “prerogative”—
the second half of the verse (“the king himself is served by
the field”) compels us to understand it in a non-literal manner
—for it is hard to see control over a cultivated field is what
grants the king his absolute prerogative. In this regard, I
prefer to interpret the word field in the wider sense of
“estate”—i.e. the totality of person’s assets—be it material
property or his vocation or field of expertise. If so, the
statement means that a person’s “profit,” or advantage—
namely, one’s only enduring, constant and immutable property
—is that which one has absolute control over—i.e., making
the most of one’s possessions. (As opposed to investing one’s
resources, including one’s initiative, in vague prospects or in
something beyond one’s control—which is something that
Koheleth repeatedly repudiates.)32 The word king therefore
denotes the absolute, the perfect, the ultimate. This is borne
out by the words in 2:12 also support this understanding: “for
what can the man do that ← 20 | 21 → cometh after the
king? even that which hath been already done”—i.e. anyone
lesser than the king cannot but repeat what has already been
done. In other places, too, this word may assume this broader
meaning if we understand it as a metaphor: if indeed the
word king denotes someone perfect or someone of supreme
accomplishment, that may be the intention in chapter 1, too,
where Koheleth introduces himself. He who says of himself “I
have grown and added wisdom over all that was before me
over Jerusalem” (1:16) and goes on to list all his material
accomplishments (2:5–10), makes clear through such a
detailed description that this is the meaning of king in the
rhetorical question “for what can the man do that cometh
after the king?” The introduction of himself as King of Israel in
Jerusalem (1:12) does not necessarily mean that he is literally
the king, but rather that he surpasses everyone else in his
accomplishments.33 While his self-proclamation as Koheleth
son of King David in Jerusalem (1:1) is problematic, as many
have suggested, it is possible that “son of David” means that
he is one of the distant descendants of the House of David.34
However, in the metaphorical sense his grim warning “Woe to
thee, O land, when thy king is a child” versus “Blessed art
thou, O land, when thy king is the son of nobles” (10:16–17).
A literal reading of the passage does not, it seems, warrant
such a belligerent pronouncement by the author—since
anyone with a modicum of sense understands the dire
consequences of the land being led by ruler lacking any
accomplishment or experience, and conversely the advantage
of the ← 21 | 22 → country whose ruler is very competent.35
For this reason, I prefer to understand the word land in this
case in the same sense as earth in 5:9 (“the profit of the
earth is for all”)—i.e. as total command and control of a
particular domain. The “Woe to thee, O land” verse is
therefore a general reference to anything that is under-
utilized, or a domain over which one does not have full
control. Koheleth’s discussion of this issue ties in with his
general disapproval of missing out on the present and against
a misguided views of life and of world order. This issue will be
expanded upon and substantiated in the following chapters.
For now, it is worth noting that the obscure verse “I to keep
the king’s commandment” (8:2—in Hebrew, ani pi melekh
shmor) might be understood in a similar fashion. (The main
difficulty lies in the attribution of “I” to the latter part of the
verse: some believe that it is meant to be followed by a colon
—as if to say, I say to thee. Some believe that the final word
should be eshmor (“I shall keep”).36 While the meaning of the
verse becomes more apparent in verse 4: “and who may say
unto him, What doest thou?”—namely that not only must one
obey the king and do all as he commands, but that this advice
is self-evident. In other words, the emphasis appears to be to
keep the king’s commandment in the sense of meek
obedience. Hence, in 5:2: “Be not rash with thy mouth, and
let not thine heart be hasty to utter any thing before God: for
God is in heaven, and thou upon earth: therefore let thy
words be few.” In my view, these two verses share the same
ideological message—namely, that when faced with absolute
perfection, one must avoid taking any stance, but rather allow
the various manifestations of perfection to be taken in and
influence oneself.37 In one verse, this perfection is embodied
in the term king, while in the other it is manifested in the
word God. Judging by the contexts, the difference between
them appears to be that king represents earthly perfection
 (“the king himself is served by the field”), while God
represents the supreme perfection of the entire universe (“for
God is in heaven, and thou upon earth”)—and that in the face
of this perfection, man is better off recognizing his ← 22 | 23
→ limitations.38 As we shall see, in Koheleth’s view, taking a
position or identifying with only one particular aspect, or
devoting oneself entirely to a single aspect of life, prevents
one from being connected with all of life, and leads one to
miss out on the present and to gain a misguided view of the
world. That said, he is not necessarily recommending one to
be total passive, since he says “therefore let thy words be
few,” and “keep the king’s commandment.”39
4. Under the sun—the same is true of this expression.
Ostensibly, it means “on earth”—i.e., everywhere. But that
sense is conveyed by the author in expressions such as under
the sky (2:3) and on earth (8:14–16, and cf 12:7).40 It is
possible, however, that its metaphorical sense will underscore
my interpretation of the two previous expressions, thereby
clarifying Koheleth’s intentions even further. I believe that
Koheleth uses the words the sun in the theoretical sense as
well as in the literal sense of a celestial object. I am not
suggesting that his references to its philosophical sense of the
sun as the very foundation on which all other truth rests, as
Plato surmised—that would place Koheleth’s religious outlook
in an entirely different light, which has no justification or basis
in other parts of the book. However, I do believe that, as the
source of all light and energy, the sun for Koheleth ← 23 | 24
→ represents the ultimate and perfect source in Creation. If
so, the expression under the sun denotes anything that falls
short of it, or anything of lesser validity. This, then, presents
us with two opposing sets of expressions: expressions that
represent all that is whole and absolute (the sky, the sun), to
whom man directs his efforts, versus expressions that
represent all that is limited and relative (“the earth,” “under
the sun,” “under the sky”), which define the limits of man’s
ability.41
 5. The same is true of the word labor. It appears many times in
the Book of Ecclesiastes (twenty times, to be exact—twelve of
them as a verb).42 From their respective contexts it is clear
that the author is not using the word in its general
conventional sense of work or hard labor, but rather in the
sense of efforts made to secure an advantage (yitron), or
memory (zikaron), as explained above. Koheleth’s arguments
that in a person’s efforts to overcome the limitations of their
ability or the constraints of time, space, the laws of nature, or
fate—they lose one’s sight of the present, with all that it has
to offer. In this regard, then, the word labor may be
interpreted to mean both labor and its fruits—similar to its use
in Psalms 128:2—“For thou shalt eat the labor of thine
hands.”43
6. Be merry is another expression that is not used in its general
and conventional sense.44 From its contexts, its meaning
appears to refer to full use of one’s resources and a sense of
full experience of all that the present has to offer (see, for
example, 4:16).45 We shall return to and expand upon the
various meanings of this expression in chapter 2. ← 24 | 25
→

Besides these terms and expressions, there are others—such as “a

time” and “do evil,” which we shall decipher below by examining
their respective contexts.
From all the above, it appears that in the Book of Ecclesiastes we
must distinguish between the dominant tone and the purpose and
aim of what is said. In the prophetic literature, for example, while
we find that the predominant tone is one of chastisement, the
prophet is primarily a man of vision. His ultimate objective is the
“End of Days,” but the path to achieving it is riddled with difficulties
and mishaps, and his denunciations are aimed mainly at these
obstacles that prevent the vision from being realized. The reprimand
is therefore a means and not an end in itself. The same is true of
Koheleth.46 Although the phenomena that he castigates outweigh his
acclamations of positive aspects both in number and in their
intensity of expression, the objects of his rebukes, in their various
guises, are merely the opposite of the desired goal. His primary
purpose might be defined as a true and righteous connection to life
and to everything that the present has to offer (see in particular:
“For to him that is joined to all the living there is hope”—9:4). In
most instances, the correct ways to make such a connection are
signaled by the Hebrew root y-t-r (advantage), in its various forms.
Unlike his repeated positive presecriptions, Koheleth’s negative
pronouncements appear in a wide range of forms, but always
alluding to the same theme—i.e. these are the various ways in which
man shies away from the world and all that exists, is available and
present. These include the natural traits and skills that one has been
blessed with, which all too often one does not appreciate, leading
one to waste one’s life and to miss out on all that is good and
beautiful in it, as created by God. These various forms of abdication,
as we have noted, are marked by the repeated use of the word
vanity. Each of the chapters Part I of our inquiry is devoted to one
aspect of these forms of escapism. In Part II, I examine Koheleth’s
“positive” counsels.
Needless to say, between his remonstrations against the various
misguided approaches that people have to life, and his advocacy of
the positive aspects that they overlook, Koheleth’s outlook appears
to be an unorthodox one. To my mind, this mainly pertains to three
issues that ← 25 | 26 → might be seen as cornerstones of the
biblical worldview. One is the issue of correlation between man and
nature. In various parts of the biblical literature, the prevailing view
is that justice is a law of nature—that is, nature is where justice
takes place. According to this view, nature was created to suit the
needs of all creatures, and it rewards man for his behavior.
Historically, nature serves those who have been liberated from
slavery to liberty, and at the cosmological level, too, the Creator’s
world is said to be one where there is no room for evil.47 Koheleth,
however, takes a different approach, which is based on the dividing
lines between the laws of nature and the bounds of human
understanding. The second issue, which is largely interlinked with
the first, concerns the prevailing perception of reward in the Hebrew
Bible. In statements such as “there is a just man that perisheth in
his righteousness, and there is a wicked man that prolongeth his life
in his wickedness” (7:15), Koheleth reiterates that absolute values
are the preserve of God, and lie beyond man’s reach. The third issue
in which Koheleth’s position is at odds with that of the Hebrew Bible
—particularly in Genesis 1:11—is in his very fundamental view of the
value of life. There are other instances in the Hebrew Bible,
especially in Genesis 1:11, where life is perceived as a preeminent
and sacred value, a supreme aim above all others—as exemplified,
for example, by the freedom of choice. However, for the most part—
especially from Genesis 12 onwards—life is perceived as only a
means, rather than as an end in itself. As the tenets of the
monotheistic faith took shape, the notion emerged that the
righteous man is he who is willing to sacrifice his life for a particular
goal, and that goal is the supreme value. This concept is taken to its
most extreme expression in the Binding of Isaac, but is apparent in
Abraham’s story from the outset, when he is required to uproot
himself from his home and his past and go wherever God tells him
to. In contrast, as we noted at the beginning of this introduction, for
Koheleth “a living dog is better than dead lion” (9:4)—that is to say,
any form of life, however humble, is preferable to death, however
honorable and noble. In this, Koheleth rejects the notion of sacrifice,
and underlines the value of life as a supreme value and aim in its
own right, rather than as a means. I ← 26 | 27 → shall return and
discuss this threefold deviation when we examine each of Koheleth’s
statements in turn.
It should be noted that my inquiry is not based on a line-by-line
reading of the chapters in their order as in the Book of Ecclesiastes,
but mainly on their key ideas, and in reverse order—that is, the
assertions in Chapter 1 assume their full meaning only in the light of
the statements in the following chapters, while the description in
Chapter 12 represents a kind of closing of the circle of intent.
Accordingly, I discuss the opening and conclusion of the Book of
Ecclesiastes only in chapter 4 of this book. Conversely, since
Koheleth’s philosophy focuses mainly on decrying people’s misguided
lifestyles, I devote chapter 1 of this book to what appears to
Koheleth as the various ways in which people “abdicate” from life, or
miss out on it. In chapter 2, I review Koheleth’s various prescriptions
for a well-lived life—i.e., his advice on how to engage with reality
and what the present has to offer. Since both his remonstrations and
his prescriptions are presented as a poetic mosaic, we will often
have to resort to paraphrasing to present the conjectured meaning
or significance of certain passages. However, this is to be expected,
if it facilitates the quest for the common ideological denominator,
given that Koheleth himself often repeats certain key ideas in more
than one way (as is often the case in poetry). In addition, since
Koheleth’s poetic structure and style does not lend itself to a neat
schematic division into topics, certain statements or declarations suit
more than one category, and therefore certain verses will fall under
more than one heading. Moreover, in these instances the two
aspects will be complementary in terms of their world outlook and
ideological message.
Chapter 3 of this book is about Koheleth’s beliefs—namely, his
views about God and man. A clear presentation of this will be
possible in the light of our inquiry in the two previous chapters: if we
bear in mind that Koheleth had a certain vision in mind in both his
criticisms and his prescriptions, the faith underpinning his ideology
may become more apparent. Chapter 4, as noted earlier, examines
the opening and conclusion of the Book of Ecclesiastes words as a
kind of prologue and coda, respectively, which highlight the issues of
contending with oblivion by aiming to attain a “righteous life.” The
full meaning of the opening passages of Ecclesiastes and its
conclusion will become apparent on completion of our inquiry.
In keeping with its title, this book seeks to explore the ideological
dimension of the Book of Ecclesiastes, rather than offer a
comprehensive study of it. Specific issues such as where and when it
was written, the ← 27 | 28 → identity of the author and his
distinctive language, are not discussed here. While those questions
undoubtedly have a bearing upon the central ideas in the Book of
Ecclesiastes, I shall be discussing them solely in the context of their
appearance and in terms of what they have in common, leaving their
thorough examination to references the research of other scholars,
while noting the highlights of their arguments in passing.

1 See the representation of this approach in A. Rofé, Mavo Lesifrut HaMikra

[Introduction to Biblical Literature], Jerusalem 2007, pp 408–411.
2 Thus, Rofé, for example, who presents verses 7:1–6 as a series of well-
known proverbs, that Koheleth quotes. See the survey by R.B.Y. Scott,
Proverbs, Ecclesiastes (Anchor Bible), Garden City, New York 1965 pp. 194–
201.
3 According to Rofé, based on verses 4:9–12, which are at odds with
Koheleth’s views. See also Y. Klein, who lists a series of internal
contradictions: “Mavo lesefer Kohelet,” [Introduction to the Book of
Ecclesiastes] in Megilot, Olam Hatanakh [Scrolls: The World of the Hebrew
Bible], Tel-Aviv 1996, pp. 162–166 (in Hebrew).
4 See, in particular, R.N. Whybray, “Qoheleth, Preacher of Joy,” JSOT 7:87
(1982) pp. 87–98; Idem, “Ecclesiastes 1/5–7 and the Wonders of Nature,”
JSOT 13:105 (1988) pp. 105–112; G.S Ogden, “Qoheleth XI 7 – XII 8:
Qoheleth’s Summons to Enjoyment and Reflection,” VT 34.1 (1984) PP. 27–
38.
5 Thus, for example, I. J. J. Spangenberg, “Irony in the Book of Qohelet,”
JSOT 21:57 (1996) pp. 57–69.
6 See Seow’s survey of approaches in: C.L. Seow, Ecclesiastes (Anchor Bible),
New York 1997, pp. 36–47. Of particular note is the approach to Bickel’s
extreme notion that the text as we know it today came about because its
editors or compilers found it in the form of a collection of loose pages which
they were unable to restore to their original order, and thus its current
ordering is arbitrary. See: G. Bickel, Der Prädiger über das Wert des Daseins,
Insbruck 1884.
7 Seow (ibid.) does not see the author’s contradictory views a sign of a lack of
unity. In his opinion, “wisdom” may accommodate conflicting notions, and
similarly Koheleth should not be regarded as either a pessimist or an
optimist, because the world itself is full of contrasts.
8 See: E. D. Wright, “The Riddle of the Sphinx: The Structure of the Book of
Qoheleth,” CBQ 30 (1968) pp. 313–334.
9 Delitzsch is a clear example of this approach, whereby any attempt to
discern a coherent order in the Book of Ecclesiastes must inevitably
involving a coercion of the subject matter. See: F. Delitzsch, Commentary on
the Song of Songs and Ecclesiastes, (trans. M. G. Eaton) Edinburgh 1891.
10 See Wright’s reference to: Hitzig; Ginsberg; Bea; Genung; Zögler; Ginsburg;
Vauvari; Buzy; Podechard; Lamparter; Pantrel; Weber; Miller, in Delitzsch,
Commentary on the Song of Songs and Ecclesiastes.
11 See, in particular, two studies in the New Stylists tradition: O. Loretz,
Qohelet und der alte Orient, Freiburg 1964, which does not see any method
in the book’s structure, and G. Castellino, “Qohelet and His Wisdom,” CBQ
30 (1968) pp. 15–28, who discerns two parts in the book, based mainly on
the distinction between the passages written in first person, and those in
imperative form. The first (1:1–4:16) is primarily a negative appraisal of life,
and the second (4:17–12:12) adopts a more positive attitude.
12 Seow (ibid., pp. 43–47).
13 See: G.T. Sheppard, “The Epilogue to Qoheleth as Theological Commentary,”
CBQ 39 (1997) pp. 182–189. See also his review of researchers who
attribute the Book of Ecclesiastes to two, three, or even eight different
authors.
14 See: J. Blenkinsop, “Ecclesiastes 3.1–15: Another Interpretation,” JSOT 66
(1995) pp. 55–64. D. Rudman, “A Contextual Reading of Ecclesiastes 4: 13–
16,” JBL 116/1 (1997) pp. 57–73. D.C. Fredericks “Chiasm and Parallel
Structure in Qoheleth 5:9–6:9,” JBL 108.1 (1989) pp. 17–35. G.S. Ogden,
“Qoheleth IX 1–16,” VT 32.2 (1982) pp. 158–169. Idem: “Qoheleth IX 17 –
X 20: Variations on the Theme of Wisdom’s Strenght and Vulnerability,” VT
30.1 (1980) pp. 27–37. Idem: Qoheleth XI 1–6,” VT 33.2 (1983) pp. 222–
230. J.F.A. Sanger, “The Ruined HouseEcclesiastes 12: A Reconstruction of
the Original Parable,” JBL 94/1 (1975) pp. 519–531. G.S. Ogden, “Qoheleth
XI 7 – XII 8: Qoheleth’s Summons to Enjoyment and Reflection,” VT 34.1
(1984) pp. 27–38. A. Fisher, “Beobachtungen zur Komposition von Kohelet
1,3–3, 15” ZAW 103, 1 (1991) pp. 72–86. C.L. Seow, “Qohelet’s
Eschatological Poem,” JBL 118/2 (1999) pp. 209–234.
15 Conversely, see: See however: T. Porti, “Leshe’elat hasidur veha’arikhah
beQohelet: Hapitgam keḥuliyah meqashert,” [On the question of the
ordering and editing of Ecclesiastes: The proverb as a link], Beit Mikra 52b,
2012, pp 52–71. However, that focuses on the question of the unity of the
two literary units (9:13–3l; 10:8–15) while I present various sayings and
proverbs that are stated as conclusions from the assertions that the author
makes, or from his own experience, which together provide a uniformity of
ideas. See also an attempt to introduce the principle of the sequence in the
first verses as the first observational sequence: N. Cohen, “‘Venatati et libi’:
Mivneh vemashma’ut beretzef hahitbonenut harishon besefer Qohelet
(1:12–2:26),” [“And I gave my heart”: Structure and meaning in the first
observational sequence in the Book of Ecclesiastes], Beit Mikra 58b, 2013,
pp 47–82.In my view, not only are many statements in the book are
underscored as conclusions drawn from his own experience (as I make clear
in the course of this book), but that the key to the principle of the sequence
is left in many cases to the discretion and understanding of the reader.
16 See, on the other hand, S. Barton, “Kohelet,” JBQ 26,3 (1998) pp. 168–176,
who believes that the optimistic parts of Ecclesiastes, like certain Psalms
 (e.g. 5, 85), reflect the transition from despair to hope, which is part of the
dynamics in the mind of someone whose faith is stronger after venting his
disappointments, such Pss. 5, 85. See also Gelander, The Religious
Experience in the Book of Psalms (2013), especially pp 33–65.
17 See, for example, H. Shapiro, Qohelet: Hafilosof hamiqrai [Kohelet: The
Biblical Philosopher], Or-Yehuda 2011 p. 33, 39, where he compares the
attitude of Ecclesiastes that of Schopenhauer. See also p. 39.
18 In this book, I tend to use the term “figurative language” to denote the use
of words not in their lexical sense, but in generally associative ways that
may be explained by context, or by the parallelism.
19 See, for example, J. Milgrom, Studies in Levitical Terminology, Berkeley-Los
Angeles-London 1970.
20 See detailed review of the commentaries by: D. Ingram. Ambiguity in
Ecclesiastes, New York – London 2006 and especially there at 129–191. His
conclusion is that the term yitron is ambiguous: he translates it as being
related to “excess” or “surplus,” but in most cases he interprets it as
“advantage.” See also the review of the interpretations of verse 8:1: Pinker,
“The Advantage of a Country in Ecclesiastes 5: 8,” JBQ 35/4 (2009), pp.
211–222, where he recommends interpreting yitron to mean “advantage.”
21 So, too, thinks D. B. Miller (see note 24 below).
22 The Hebrew word used here—yitron—appears only in Ecclesiastes. Kadri
interprets it as “benefit” or “advantage.” See Z. Kardi, Milon Ha’ivrit
Hamikrait [Dictionary of Biblical Hebrew], Ramat-Gan 2006, p. 483. But see
also my discussion of the term below, and note 25 below.
23 Cf. Shin C. L. Seow, “Linguistic Evidence and the Dating of Qohelet,” JBL
115/4 (1996) pp. 643–666, who tends to interpret the expression in
accordance with its Greek meaning of “advantage” or “surplus” (Òφελος).
24 1:2 (x 5), 14 (with parallelism: “and vexation of spirit”); 2:1, 11, 15, 17, 19,
21 (with parallelism: and a great evil), 23, 26; 3:19; 4:4, 7, 8 (with
parallelism: “a sore travail”), 16; 5:9; 6:9, 12; 7:6; 8:10, 14 (x 2); 9:9 (in
the expression: “all the days of thy vanity” x 2); 11:10; 12:8 (“vanity of
vanities,” as in 1:2).
25 2:11, 13 (x 2); 3:9, 19 (motar); 5:8, 15; 6:8 (yoter), 12; 10:11.
26 See, in particular: V. Fox, “The Meaning of Hebel for Qohelet,” JBL 105/3
(1986) pp. 409–427, with a discussion of the different interpretations. Fox
himself prefers to interpret the word hebel as “absurd”—but in a subsequent
commentary he believes Kohelet used it in various senses, including “vain,
empty, useless” (as in Proverbs 21:6). For my part—as will become apparent
from our examination—that the word does have a consistent sense
throughout, and the notion that it means “useless” is a due to the subjective
view that anything that does not endure is useless and worthless. See Klein,
“Mavo lesefer Kohelet,” p 170. (Accordingly, Fox also interprets yitron as
“benefit, priority,” while I interpret it as “enduring”). Conversely, see a
 review of various approaches in: D. B. Miller, “Qohelet’s use of h’bl” JBL
117/3 (1998) pp. 437–454. Miller himself argues that despite differences in
contexts, such as “fleeting,” “ephemeral,” “vapor” (which in its metaphorical
sense encompasses “foulness,” “transience,” etc.), the expression must have
a consistent meaning: he prefers the notion of “insubstantiability,” but he
also thinks that Kohelet uses the expression in its metaphorical sense, which
includes the experiences of human experience. For more on the
metaphorical meaning of the expression, see: D. Fredericks & K. A. Farmser,
“Who Knows what is Good?,” Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, Grand Rapids 1991,
and once again, S. Bakon, “Kohelet,” JBQ 26,3 (1998) pp. 168–176—who
interprets hevel as “vanity” and yitron as “advantage.”
27 For this reason, I do not agree with commentaries that understand the word
as synonymous with death. See: A. Kislev, “Qohelet vehitmodeduto im
hamavet le’or hatfisot bamiqra uvesifrut hamizraḥ haqadum,” [Kohelet and
his grappling with death in light of biblical worldviews and the literature of
the ancient East], Beit Mikra 52b, 2012, pp 28–51. This issue will be
discussed below, especially in chapter 4, which deals with the framework of
the Book of Ecclesiastes.
28 See J. Blenkinsopp, “Ecclesiastes 3.1–15: Another Interpretation,” JSOT 66
(1995) pp. 55–64. He tends to interpret “A time to…” as “The right timing”—
i.e., as the interface between human actions and chance occurrences
brought on by a combination of reasons that we call “fate.” We will revisit
this issue in our discussion of 1:1–15.
29 Cf. G.S. Ogden, “Qoheleth IX 1–16,” VT 32.2 (1982) pp. 158–169. Although
Ogden points out that ‫“( תע‬A time”) and ‫“( הרקמ‬happenstance”) are used
as equivalent terms (as in 3:17–18), in 9:11 he believes it is actually used to
denote the suddenness of death, which may befall a person irrespective of
how swift or strong they are (as in 9:11–12)—in other words, physical
prowess are no guarantee of success. However, in my opinion, Koheleth is
not concerned with physical strength, but with intellectual aptitude, since
elsewhere he points out that wisdom also bestows no particular advantage.
In one instance, he rejects the pursuit of excellence in one particular field.
This issue will be discussed in detail below. Seow (in “Qohelet’s
Eschatological Poem”.—see note 14 above), also attributes this to a series of
phrases that reflect its Greek sense of “chance” (Τύχη).
30 1:12; 2:12; 4:13,14 (“to reign,” “in his kingdom”); 5:5, 8:2, 4; 10:16, 17
(“when thy king”), 20. With regard to 4:13–16, see Rudman, who suggests
that “to reign” in this case might mean “to advise,” and—like Ogden—
believes that it may hint at Joseph. See D. Rudman, “A Contextual Reading
of Ecclesiastes 4: 13–16,” JBL 116/1 (1997) pp. 57–73, and the review of
approaches there.
31 See Pinker’s detailed review of the interpretation of this verse in Pinker, “The
Advantage of a Country in Ecclesiastes”—and our examination of this verse
 below, especially in chapter 2.
32 See Pinker’s interpretation, which narrows the meaning to the virtues
(advantages) of good governance, and his review of other commentaries, in
Pinker, “The Advantage of a Country in Ecclesiastes,” 211–222. See also
Fisher, “Beobachtungen zur Komposition von Kohelet 1,3–3,15.”
33 In the research literature there have been various efforts to detect clues of
the author’s condition or life story. See Kislev, “Qohelet vehitmodeduto”
(note 27), who infers from Koheleth’s proclamations about the impossibility
of bequeathing anything to the next generation (e.g. 2:18, 4:8) and from his
avoidance of the expression “My son,” that the author lived alone and had
no son. However, see also my reading of these statements.
34 See Klausner’s detailed story, which identifies Koheleth with Horkanus Ben
Tuvia, in Klausner, Historiah shel Habayit Hasheni, vol. II, Jerusalem 19644
pp 124–156. Conversely, see Ogden, who detects hints of Koheleth’s
personal-historical situation in the descriptions in 4:13–16, and who
ultimately assumes that the allusion is not necessarily to any single person,
but rather to certain figures in the Israelite tradition (Abraham, David,
Joseph), as a rhetorical device to underscore Koheleth’s understanding of
the meaning of “good”—namely, that young members of past generations
do not get the appreciation they deserve. G. S. Ogden, “Allusion in Qoheleth
IV 13–16?,” VT 30/3 (1980), pp. 309–315.
35 See an identical use of the word in Isaiah 3:4: “And I will give children to be
their princes, and babes shall rule over them.”
36 In the Septuagint and KJV: “I say” or “I counsel,” or “I:” Cf. NAS.
37 This may also be the meaning of the expression “be more ready to hear”
(5:1)—i.e., it is better to receive and accept anything that happens, than to
take an active position.
38 Cf Miller’s view, who while discussing the concept of God in Ecclesiastes,
also examines the meaning of generic terms such as “wisdom” and “folly.” H.
P. Müller, “Wie sprach Qohälät von Gott?” VT 18/4 (1968) pp 507–521; and
de Jong, who examines the question of identification of God in Ecclesiastes
with God of the forefathers in the Hebrew Bible in general, in S. de Jong,
“God in the Book of Qohelet: A Reappraisal of Qohelet’s Place in Old
Testament Theology,” VT 47.2 (1997) pp. 154–167. We will examine this
issue separately in the course of our inquiry.
39 In my opinion, these ideas are very similar to the notion that following an
encounter with a revelatory experience, a person often tries to make the
new vision his own personal possession and to control it. This is manifested
in his adoption of the opinion that he defines what he has discovered.
However, in the absence of appropriate language at his disposal, his
language allows him only to compare the new to something old and familiar
—hence expressions such as “For it is like…” In so doing, he is applying the
old and familiar to the new—in a manner akin to chewing the cud. For more
 on this topic: see P. Haezrahi, Hape’ilut hamitbonenet: Iyyunim Be’estetiqah
[The Observational Activity: Studies in Esthetics], Jerusalem, 1965—
especially pp 33–71 (in Hebrew).
40 Conversely, see Bakon, “Kohelet,” who interprets “under the sun” as
“certainties”—i.e., things that can be observed and verified by experience.
41 See: 1:3, 9, 13, 14; 2:11, 17, 18, 19, 22; 3:1, 16; 4:3, 7, 15; 5:12, 17; 10:2,
12; 8:9, 15, 17; 9:3, 6, 9, 11, 13; 10:5.
42 See: 1:3, 19, 20, 21; 2:10, 18, 22, 24; 3:9, 13; 4:4, 8, 9, 16; 5:14, 15, 17;
6:7, 8:17 (on occasion, twice in the same verse).
43 Cf. Blenkinsopp, “Ecclesiastes 3.1–15: Another Interpretation,” 61 (see
above note 14), who believes that labor is not limited to earning a living or
accumulating wealth, but also pertains to the search for the meaning of
human activity—as in the list in 3:1–9.
44 See 2:10, 26; 3:12, 22; 5:16, 18, 19; 7:4; 8:15; 9:7; 10:19; 11:8, 9.
45 This interpretation may be strengthened by the fact that “be merry” does
not feature in the list of things which there is “A time for”—namely, being
merry is not bound by any hard and fast rules, or advance planning.
However, cf. Z. Jura, “Ulesimhah mah zo osah” [“And of mirth, What doeth
it?”], Beit Mikra (2001) pp. 353–370.
46 Cf. Scott, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, 196–197. However, he is of the opinion that
Koheleth’s counsel to enjoy life is a kind of “default” option—even though
Scott rules out that any Greek influences are at play here—including the
hedonistic views of an agnostic.
47 For a detailed examination of the issues of the correlation between nature
and justice, see S. Gelander: “Hatzedek vesidrei habri’ah,” [Justice and
World Order], Beit Mikra 97 (1984), pp 158–179. See also Gelander,
Religious Experience in Psalms, chapter 3.
← 28 | 29 →

1. Escaping from reality

Koheleth’s harsh criticism encompasses a wide range of assertions—

but in reality, they share a single ideological common denominator,
in that they repeatedly highlight the various ways in which people
flee from what is readily accessible and from the present. His
critique is therefore a highly focused one. It is not a litany of
accusations against the world as a whole and the way its functions
or against man’s insignificance and failings, but rather a focused
critique of the mistaken ways in which man conducts his life.
Koheleth believes that all a person’s efforts, methods of operation,
aspirations, desires, and understandings, are used in a manner that
makes him overlook all that is readily accessible and present,
causing him to miss out on the extraordinary quality and virtues of
the world. Man’s limitations and discontent are therefore not
predetermined, but rather stem from how he conducts his life—
much of which dissipated in efforts in the wrong direction. Instead of
using the resources that he has and his natural abilities, and instead
of harnessing the existing and appreciating what is close at hand, he
wastes his life in various ways that might be summed up as forms of
escapism.
In this part of the inquiry, I intend to discuss the various ways in
which this escapism is manifested. First and foremost of these is the
escape to the future, in its various guises—such as devoting oneself
to one’s “life’s work,” with the intention of bequeathing it to one’s
successors, and amassing assets to insure oneself against possible
mishaps. However, escapism also includes efforts to develop traits
that one is not naturally endowed with, and pursuing goals well
beyond one’s skills and ability. It is also evident in the pursuit of
perfection and of absolute values. Such quests also involve
sacrifices, and Koheleth categorically rejects the notion that one
should sacrifice one’s life for certain values or lofty goals.1
In the book’s poetic opening,2 Koheleth poses the rhetorical
question “What profit hath a man of all his labor, which he taketh
under the sun?” ← 29 | 30 → (1:3)—from which we understand that
all his labor is intended to achieve a certain “profit.” As we discussed
above, in the Introduction chapter, the word profit (in Hebrew,
yitron) should be understood as “an enduring advantage.” A man‘s
labor is therefore aimed at avoiding oblivion—yet oblivion cannot be
avoided, of all his labor,3 and everything is fleeting. Hence,
Koheleth’s declaration “and I hated life,” or “and I hated all my
labor” (2:17, 18) is not a reference to life and labor in general, as
Scott has suggested,4 but rather a lifestyle in which man does not
savor all that is present, available, and serendipitous, and invests all
his efforts in various forms of escape. In chapter 4, we shall examine
the substance and outlook of the book’s opening and conclusion in
our discussion about the book’s general structure; meanwhile, this
chapter is devoted to examining the various forms of escapism.

Escape to the future

Yea, I hated all my labor which I had taken under the sun: because I should
leave it unto the man that shall be after me [2:18–19]

Whether it is the labor itself, or the fruits of one’s labor, this passage
is about a man who instead of enjoying his actual labor or its fruits,
devotes all his efforts to that which comes after—that is, to his
successors and heirs. It is a reference, therefore, to the common
phenomenon of wanting to overcome oblivion and disappearance by
establishing continuity between generations through inheritance.5
Koheleth rejects this notion, on the grounds that there is no knowing
whether the intended heir has the requisite qualities and skills, and
therefore one cannot know how he will ← 30 | 31 → manage the
legacy that he has inherited. Such escapism to the future must
therefore be rejected:6 since there is no knowing what will happen to
the fruits of one’s labor after the death, it follows that one’s work is
for naught. In essence, all a man’s life’s work is fleeting, and
therefore he has wasted his life.7
This sentiment is repeated in other statements in the same vein:
There is an evil which I have seen under the sun, and it is common among
men

A man to whom God hath given riches, wealth, and honor, so that he wanteth
nothing for his soul of all that he desireth, yet God giveth him not power to eat
thereof, but a stranger eateth it: this is vanity, and it is an evil disease.8

As in the previous passage, the issue is a person who does not

benefit from all that he is fortunate to have received. However, here
the discussion is not only about his labor or about the fruits of his
labor (riches and assets), but about his status (honor), as well—nor
is it about his efforts, as in Chapter 2:11 (“Then I looked on all the
works that my hands had wrought, and on the labor that I had
labored to do: and, behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and
there was no profit under the sun”)—but rather that which God has
given him. These two statements are very similar in style and
wording, which supports my proposed interpretation of the phrase
“under the sun.” The meaning of the Hebrew root sh-l-t (yashlitenu)
in these contexts also refers to full utilization of all that is readily
accessible and provided—but here, too the giving and the taking are
in the hands of ← 31 | 32 → God.9 The message, then, as in the
previous statement, is that man cannot ensure his future, so he
must make the most of the present and of what comes his way,
since—as Koheleth repeatedly emphasizes—“This also I saw, that it
was from the hand of God.” (2:24).10 He then elaborates: “If a man
beget an hundred children, and live many years, so that the days of
his years be many, and his soul be not filled with good, and also that
he have no burial; I say, that an untimely birth is better than he
(6:3). This verse highlights birth and death as the significant
brackets of a person’s life, but in amplified form: “an hundred”
stands for innumerable descendants, while the lack of burial denotes
a degradation of the deceased.11 The meaning of the statement is
therefore that the man who fails to be satisfied with his lot is
doomed to have his blessings become a curse. Once again, then, the
conclusion is that one must not labor for the future, but enjoy the
present.
This message is repeated and reasoned later in the chapter: “For
who knoweth what is good for man in this life, all the days of his
vain life which he spendeth as a shadow? for who can tell a man
what shall be after him under the sun?” (6:12). Fleeing to the future
means that one’s life is turned into a mere passing shadow,
inasmuch as he is no longer in control of it. It is notable that here,
as in other contexts like it, Koheleth refers to life as “the days of my
vanity”—a phrase that underscores of the temporary and fleeting
nature of the present. A similar theme appears earlier, in another
context—“for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him?”
(3:22). In other words, since there is no possibility of predicting the
future, “there is nothing better, than that a man should rejoice in his
own works; for that is his portion” (ibid.)—in other words, the best
course is to be happy while doing things.12 ← 32 | 33 →

On the attempts at insuring against future mishaps

Koheleth’s criticism of the phenomenon of fleeing from the present
has ramifications for other, closely related issues. To my mind, his
reiteration that man cannot insure himself against future harm does
not spring necessarily from the fact that he is totally subject to the
vagaries of fate, as many commentators have suggested,13 but is
also related to Koheleth’s warnings about fleeing from the present.
All efforts to insure oneself against possible harm in future are
misconceived—not because one’s fate is necessarily preordained, but
because while doing so, one allows the present to slip away. His
remonstrations against such “insurance” efforts are therefore related
to, and complement, his exhortations not to flee to the future:
There is a sore evil14 which I have seen under the sun—namely, riches kept for
the owners thereof to their hurt. But those riches perish by evil travail:15 and
he begetteth a son, and there is nothing in his hand. (5:13–14)16

This pronouncement is very closely related to those previously cited

(2:18–19; 6:1–3)—however, this time the emphasis is different. The
previous statements were about the futility of striving to accomplish
a true “life’s work,” and the impossibility of bequeathing it—in
essence, about the person who strives to experience the future
instead of the present. Here, on the other hand, the statement is
more specific. Although here, too, the issue is about ← 33 | 34 →
inheritance and the next generation, the reference is to “But those
riches perish by evil travail,” we find that the focus has now shifted—
namely, that taking steps to “insure” against possible afflictions is
pointless. The similarity of these themes underscores how we should
avoid overly-schematic divisions of the book. There is no doubt that
all sorts of statements might be included under the same heading—
but precisely for that reason I see it necessary to highlight the
different forms in which missing out on the present may take, and
which Koheleth seeks to denounce, and accordingly I have divided
these forms of escapism into separate categories. Besides his
general disapproval of sacrificing one’s present for the future,
Koheleth suggests that this may assume various guises, one of
which is attempts to protect oneself from oblivion and other
occasional mishaps.
“Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and
on the labor that I had labored to do: and, behold, all was vanity
and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun” (2:11).
From the context, it is clear that this is not a generic or arbitrary
assertion, but rather a conclusion drawn from his rich experience. In
the previous verses, Koheleth details at length a list of ways in which
means and actions may be accrued, whose purpose was “till I might
see what was that good for the sons of men, which they should do
under the heaven all the days of their life” (2:3). In light of my
earlier interpretation of the expression “under the sun,”17 the
reference here is to a single, particular course that a person might
take or devote their lives to, and the word good in this instance
refers to the absolute good.18 In other words, since he had been
blessed with all possibilities and means at his disposal, he tried to
see if there was a single, ultimate course that he might take that
might ensure that he is remembered in posterity. He then proceeds
to list the various things that he has done to this end (2:1, which
marks the beginning of the attempt with mirth),19 representing all
possible courses of action (including others that are not mentioned).
From these various and diverse attempts, he reached ← 34 | 35 →
the conclusion that no single path confers an “advantage”—i.e.
guarantee against oblivion: “and, behold, all was vanity and vexation
of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun” (2:11). This is
followed later by a rhetorical question that also explains why he
resorted to “behold wisdom, and madness, and folly”—and reached
the conclusion: “for what can the man do that cometh after the
king? even that which hath been already done” (2:12). The “king,”
as we noted earlier, is a metonymic allusion to a paragon or
champion, whom no one, in his time or later, can hope to equal in
terms of perfection and uniqueness, and therefore there is no reason
for him to be remembered, or for anything to remain of his actions.
The paths and qualities that he tried to hold onto (“wisdom, and
madness, and folly”) were not enough to save him from oblivion and
secure him immortality, because he could never reach the level of
perfection represented by the proverbial “king.” Thus, sticking to any
one path only squanders all the options provided by the present, and
limiting oneself to a single field of endeavor is only a form of
escapism from the present and available.
This conclusion also leads us to the irony, in a wording that is
somewhat deceptive: “Then I saw that wisdom excelleth folly, as far
as light excelleth darkness” (2:13).20 Ostensibly, this statement is at
odds with Koheleth’s arguments elsewhere, since even in this
chapter we read “I sought in mine heart to give myself unto wine,
yet acquainting mine heart with wisdom; and to lay hold on folly”
(2:3), and his conclusion that, like other paths and virtues, none of
these provide any advantage. Many commentators have suggested
that Koheleth here acknowledges the advantage of wisdom over
folly,21 but to my mind, if the advantage of wisdom over folly is like
the advantage of light over darkness, then wisdom has no
advantage at all, since the superiority of light over darkness is
merely a convention—especially if we understand the word
advantage (yitron) not as “preference,” but as “persistence,” or
permanence—as I explained earlier. After all, light and dark succeed
each other, and neither one vanquishes the other. The cyclical nature
in the changes of light and dark are in line with Koheleth’s words in
the opening verses, which point to the regular nature in the natural
cycle as a permanent fixture—unlike man, who leaves no trace after
his death (1:11). ← 35 | 36 → And indeed, the irony of these words
is apparent later: “The wise man’s eyes are in his head; but the fool
walketh in darkness: and I myself perceived also22 that one event
happeneth to them all” (2:14). The Hebrew word in this case
(miqreh) does not refer to death, since the fact that “as the one
dieth, so dieth the other”(3:19) is no advantage, and self-evident—
too self-evident to rank as a conclusion from Koheleth’s rich and
diverse experience, as he detailed in the previous verses. It is better
to interpret it as I proposed in the Introduction—i.e., as something
that God had planned in advance.23 Wisdom and folly are presented
here a merism,24 or spectrum of qualities, and Koheleth’s assertion is
that no single trait or skill can safeguard a person from oblivion and
extinction. This is underscored later when he repeats and expands
his rhetorical question: “Then said I in my heart, as it happeneth to
the fool, so it happeneth even to me; and why was I then more
wise?” (2:15) in other words, acquiring wisdom does not in fact
afford any advantage. The reason: “For there is no remembrance of
the wise more than25 of the fool for ever; seeing that which now is in
the days to come shall all be forgotten. And how dieth the wise
man? As the fool.” (2:16).26 ← 36 | 37 →
The same is true about his conclusion in the matter of “riches
kept for the owners thereof to their hurt” (5:12). Since this wealth is
lost “by evil travail,” he extends his conclusion: “that in all points as
he came, so shall he go: and what profit hath he that hath labored
for the wind? / All his days also he eateth in darkness, and he hath
much sorrow and wrath with his sickness” (5:16–17). Here, then, he
explicitly states that by attempting to accrue wealth, assets, or other
means in a bid to insure oneself from future mishaps, one is
prevented from enjoying the present. By devoting oneself to
something transient and ephemeral, one deprives oneself of
enjoyment of the present.
The presentation of the wise man and the fool as opposite ends
of the same spectrum is reiterated in other expressions, such as “All
things come alike to all: there is one event to the righteous, and to
the wicked; to the good and to the clean, and to the unclean” (9:2).
The rest of the verse confirms that these are not only acquired
traits, but also contrasting behavior and lifestyles: […] to him that
sacrificeth, and to him that sacrificeth not: as is the good, so is the
sinner; and he that sweareth, as he that feareth an oath […] that
there is one event unto all” (9:2–3). In other words, there is no
prescribed method of controlling the future and shielding oneself
from mishap.
This same notion, albeit without any reasoning or justification,
also features elsewhere, in brief statements, and in a wide range of
contexts—e.g., “For he knoweth not that which shall be” (8:7), and
—
Give a portion to seven, and also to eight; for thou knowest not what evil shall
be upon the earth / If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon
the earth: and if the tree fall toward the south, or toward the north, in the
place where the tree falleth, there it shall be” (11:2–3)

All these statements rule out the possibility of foreseeing the future
and guarding against misfortune. However, there are occasions
where Koheleth’s prescription points to a broader outlook, and the
essence of his belief. For example, “In the day of prosperity be
joyful, but in the day of adversity consider: God also hath set the
one over against the other, to the end that man should find nothing
after him” (7:14). This appears after a series of maxims in the
format “is better than…,” that present various situations as
comparative virtues—such as, “A good name is better than precious
ointment,” or “Sorrow is better than laughter”). These statements ←
37 | 38 → are founded on the notion that there is no such thing as a
perfect and absolute virtue—only relative preferences. However, the
full verse may indicate that the advice to enjoy from what is readily
accessible and to accept it as it is should not necessarily be
understood as merely a kind of default option, or as a compromise
due to human limitations.27
In his declaration, “God also hath set the one over against the
other” (7:14), we learn that the absolute and infinite, which
encompasses the extreme boundaries, is in the hands of God. We
shall discuss this idea at greater length in chapter 3, when we
examine Koheleth’s belief. However, here, too it is worth noting that
Koheleth repeatedly states, in various ways, that “This also I saw,
that it was from the hand of God” (2:24, and similarly, 3:13). In
other words, God is perceived not as a ruler who arbitrarily
determines man’s fate,28 but as someone who gives man options to
choose from. In this respect, Koheleth’s words appear to be closer in
spirit to Job’s argument“What? Shall we receive good at the hand of
God, and shall we not receive evil?” (Job, 2:10). (In the following
verse—“to the end that man should find nothing after him” [Eccles.
7:14], I proposed that the words should find be understood as “to
understand,” or even “to succeed,” as in 9:10; and the expression
after him—as in after the king [2:12]—in the sense of “here” =
“after God”.)29 In other words, man with his limited faculties cannot
perceive the full extent of God’s actions in their absolute entirety.
The common denominator in “God also hath set the one over
against the other” is in what is ready to hand, or present. The
present, therefore, is in the hands of man—but he fritters it away in
his various attempts to flee to the future or even to the past (see
7:10).
Koheleth’s exhortation to make the most of life is founded on a
certain positive approach. We find a similar recommendation
elsewhere: “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 ← 38 | 39 → goest (9:10). However, here
the recommendation is substantiated. The first half states that man
may, or is even duty-bound, to do all that he can under any given
circumstances (an idea echoed in other verses, such as “also he hath
set the world in their heart” [3:11]—i.e., the world is man’s oyster,
and entirely in his hands).30 But the second half puts forward a
reasoning that renounces the notion that there is anything after
death. The expression “for there is no work, nor device, nor
knowledge, nor wisdom” is a figurative allusion to initiative and
planning. This is apparent from the words “no work, nor device, nor
knowledge, nor wisdom.” Notably, work in this case also assumes
another meaning from the first half of the verse (“Whatsoever thy
hand findeth to do, do it with thy might”)—namely, that one must
not to take upon oneself to do something that is beyond one’s
capabilities, or the results of which one cannot foresee nor control.
Therefore, the word grave in the second half of the verse is
presented not only in its general sense, as a void,31 but also in the
sense of everything that is totally beyond one’s control. Hence, the
oblivion that lies after death does not spring from a pessimistic
suggestion to abandon all hope, but rather a caution not to indulge
in illusions: “He that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that
regardeth the clouds shall not reap” (11:4), and “By much
slothfulness the building decayeth; and through idleness of the
hands the house droppeth through” (10:18). Action, and making the
most of the resources to hand, is the correct way to avoid the flight
from, and loss of, reality. Similarly, in “Who knoweth the spirit of
man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth
downward to the earth?” (3:21), where oblivion is not even
presented as a certainty, but as a doubt. The same is true of the
declaration “For the living know that they shall die: but the dead
know not any thing” (9:5). These various pronouncements ← 39 |
40 → assume meaning later, in verse 10, linked together by the
positive advice “Go thy way, eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy
wine with a merry heart; for God now accepteth thy works” (9:7).
This recommendation will be examined later in chapter 2.
Koheleth’s essentially positive appeal for maximum action belies
the common belief that his philosophy is founded on a submission to
fate.32 A person who suggests that control of one’s life and success
are contingent upon initiative and action is clearly not someone who
bemoans the absolute control of Fate over one’s life. Thus, his many
and varied statements about how everything is preordained are in
fact indicative of the positive aspects of Creation and world order
(“He hath made every thing beautiful in his time”—3:11), and that
man’s failings stem from his continual efforts to grapple with what is
beyond his reach, i.e. from his flight from the present and what is
available.33
Koheleth’s essentially positive approach to quotidian life is
discussed at greater length below, in chapter 2. For now, let us focus
on Koheleth’s negative attitude toward man’s attempts to insure
himself against possible mishaps. This phenomenon, as previously
noted, has various manifestations. One is the attempt to achieve an
advantage over others, either by causing others to fail, or by
sabotaging their property. This, I believe, is the meaning behind
verse 10:8—“He that diggeth a pit shall fall into it; and whoso
breaketh an hedge, a serpent shall bite him”—should ← 40 | 41 →
be understood, rather than as an affirmation of the reward
doctrine.34, 35 The notion of measure for measure—according to
which the evil man is punished for his evil ways in the same manner
in which he has acted—runs counter to Koheleth’s outlook. Indeed,
he repeatedly asserts the opposite on various occasions—for
example, “All things have I seen in the days of my vanity: there is a
just man that perisheth in his righteousness, and there is a wicked
man that prolongeth his life in his wickedness” (7:15, 10:7, and
elsewhere). Therefore, in light of the context of verse 10:8, what
Koheleth appears to be saying is that danger exists everywhere—as
explicitly stated in verse 10:9 “Whoso removeth stones shall be hurt
therewith; and he that cleaveth wood shall be endangered
thereby”—and in fact, anyone who sets about undermining others or
trying to safeguard themselves from danger will in fact experience
that very danger. In modern parlance, if you fling mud at others, you
will get muddy.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
institution is so pure that men in their present imperfect state cannot
acceptably sanctify it. They will keep it, however, in the new creation,
but in the meantime they keep with joyfulness the eighth day, which
having never been sanctified by God is not difficult to keep in the
present state of wickedness.
Justin Martyr’s reasons for not observing the Sabbath are not at all
like those of the so-called Barnabas, for Justin seems to have
heartily despised the Sabbatic institution. He denies that it was
obligatory before the time of Moses, and affirms that it was abolished
by the advent of Christ. He teaches that it was given to the Jews
because of their wickedness, and he expressly affirms the abolition
of both the Sabbath and the law. So far is he from teaching the
change of the Sabbath from the seventh to the first day of the week,
or from making the Sunday festival a continuation of the ancient
Sabbatic institution, that he sneers at the very idea of days of
abstinence from labor, or days of idleness, and though God gives as
his reason for the observance of the Sabbath, that that was the day
on which he rested from all his work, Justin gives as his first reason
for the Sunday festival that that was the day on which God began his
work! Of abstinence from labor as an act of obedience to the
Sabbath, Justin says:—

“The Lord our God does not take pleasure in such

observances.”[633]

A second reason for not observing the Sabbath is thus stated by

him:—

“For we too would observe the fleshly circumcision, and the

Sabbaths, and in short, all the feasts, if we did not know for
what reason they were enjoined you—namely, on account of
your transgressions and the hardness of your hearts.”[634]

As Justin never discriminates between the Sabbath of the Lord

and the annual sabbaths he doubtless here means to include it as
well as them. But what a falsehood is it to assert that the Sabbath
was given to the Jews because of their wickedness! The truth is, it
was given to the Jews because of the universal apostasy of the
Gentiles.[635] But in the following paragraph Justin gives three more
reasons for not keeping the Sabbath:—

“Do you see that the elements are not idle, and keep no
Sabbaths? Remain as you were born. For if there was no
need of circumcision before Abraham, or of the observance of
Sabbaths, of feasts and sacrifices, before Moses; no more
need is there of them now, after that, according to the will of
God, Jesus Christ the Son of God has been born without sin,
of a virgin sprung from the stock of Abraham.”[636]

Here are three reasons: 1. “That the elements are not idle, and
keep no Sabbaths.” Though this reason is simply worthless as an
argument against the seventh day, it is a decisive confirmation of the
fact already proven, that Justin did not make Sunday a day of
abstinence from labor. 2. His second reason here given is that there
was no observance of Sabbaths before Moses, and yet we do know
that God at the beginning did appoint the Sabbath to a holy use, a
fact to which as we shall see quite a number of the fathers testify,
and we also know that in that age were men who kept all the
precepts of God. 3. There is no need of Sabbatic observance since
Christ. Though this is mere assertion, it is by no means easy for
those to meet it fairly who represent Justin as maintaining the
Christian Sabbath.
Another argument by Justin against the obligation of the Sabbath
is that God “directs the government of the universe on this day
equally as on all others!”[637] as though this were inconsistent with
the present sacredness of the Sabbath, when it is also true that God
thus governed the world in the period when Justin acknowledges the
Sabbath to have been obligatory. Though this reason is trivial as an
argument against the Sabbath, it does show that Justin could have
attached no Sabbatic character to Sunday. But he has yet one more
argument against the Sabbath. The ancient law has been done away
by the new and final law, and the old covenant has been superseded
by the new.[638] But he forgets that the design of the new covenant
was not to do away with the law of God, but to put that law into the
heart of every Christian. And many of the fathers, as we shall see,
expressly repudiate this doctrine of the abrogation of the Decalogue.
Such were Justin’s reasons for rejecting the ancient Sabbath. But
though he was a decided asserter of the abrogation of the law, and
of the Sabbatic institution itself, and kept Sunday only as a festival,
modern first-day writers cite him as a witness in support of the
doctrine that the first day of the week should be observed as the
Christian Sabbath on the authority of the fourth commandment.
Now let us learn what stood in the way of Irenæus’ observance of
the Sabbath. It was not that the commandments were abolished, for
we shall presently learn that he taught their perpetuity. Nor was it
that he believed in the change of the Sabbath, for he gives no hint of
such an idea. The Sunday festival in his estimation appears to have
been simply of “equal significance” with the Pentecost.[639] Nor was
it that Christ broke the Sabbath, for Irenæus says that he did not.[640]
But because the Sabbath is called a sign he regarded it as
significant of the future kingdom, and appears to have considered it
no longer obligatory, though he does not expressly say this. Thus he
sets forth the meaning of the Sabbath as held by him:—

“Moreover the Sabbaths of God, that is, the kingdom, was,

as it were, indicated by created things,” etc.[641]

“These [promises to the righteous] are [to take place] in the

times of the kingdom, that is, upon the seventh day which has
been sanctified, in which God rested from all the works which
he created, which is the true Sabbath of the righteous,”[642]
etc.

“For the day of the Lord is as a thousand years: and in six

days created things were completed: it is evident, therefore,
 that they will come to an end at the sixth thousand year.”[643]

But Irenæus did not notice that the Sabbath as a sign does not
point forward to the restitution, but backward to the creation, that it
may signify that the true God is the Creator.[644] Nor did he observe
the fact that when the kingdom of God shall be established under the
whole heaven all flesh shall hallow the Sabbath.[645]
But he says that those who lived before Moses were justified
“without observance of Sabbaths,” and offers as proof that the
covenant at Horeb was not made with the fathers. Of course if this
proves that the patriarchs were free from obligation toward the fourth
commandment, it is equally good as proof that they might violate any
other. These things indicate that Irenæus was opposed to Sabbatic
observance, though he did not in express language assert its
abrogation, and did in most decisive terms assert the continued
obligation of the ten commandments.
Tertullian offers numerous reasons for not observing the Sabbath,
but there is scarcely one of these that he does not in some other
place expressly contradict. Thus he asserts that the patriarchs
before Moses did not observe the Sabbath.[646] But he offers no
proof, and he elsewhere dates the origin of the Sabbath at the
creation,[647] as we shall show hereafter. In several places he
teaches the abrogation of the law, and seems to set aside moral law
as well as ceremonial. But elsewhere, as we shall show, he bears
express testimony that the ten commandments are still binding as
the rule of the Christian’s life.[648] He quotes the words of Isaiah in
which God is represented as hating the feasts, new-moons, and
sabbaths observed by the Jews,[649] as proof that the seventh-day
Sabbath was a temporary institution which Christ abrogated. But in
another place he says: “Christ did not at all rescind the Sabbath: he
kept the law thereof.”[650] And he also explains this very text by
stating that God’s aversion toward the Sabbaths observed by the
Jews was “because they were celebrated without the fear of God by
a people full of iniquities,” and adds that the prophet, in a later
passage speaking of Sabbaths celebrated according to God’s
commandment, “declares them to be true, delightful, and
inviolable.”[651] Another statement is that Joshua violated the
Sabbath in the siege of Jericho.[652] Yet he elsewhere explains this
very case, showing that the commandment forbids our own work, not
God’s. Those who acted at Jericho did “not do their own work, but
God’s, which they executed, and that, too, from his express
commandment.”[653] He also both asserts and denies that Christ
violated the Sabbath.[654] Tertullian was a double-minded man. He
wrote much against the law and the Sabbath, but he also
contradicted and exposed his own errors.
Origen attempts to prove that the ancient Sabbath is to be
understood mystically or spiritually, and not literally. Here is his
argument:—

“‘Ye shall sit, every one in your dwellings: no one shall

move from his place on the Sabbath day.’ Which precept it is
impossible to observe literally; for no man can sit a whole day
so as not to move from the place where he sat down.”[655]

Great men are not always wise. There is no such precept in the
Bible. Origen referred to that which forbade the people to go out for
manna on the Sabbath, but which did not conflict with another that
commanded holy convocations or assemblies for worship on the
Sabbath.[656]
Victorinus is the latest of the fathers before Constantine who offers
reasons against the observance of the Sabbath. His first reason is
that Christ said by Isaiah that his soul hated the Sabbath; which
Sabbath he in his body abolished; and these assertions we have
seen answered by Tertullian.[657] His second reason is that “Jesus
[Joshua] the son of Nave [Nun], the successor of Moses, himself
broke the Sabbath day,”[658] which is false. His third reason is that
“Matthias [a Maccabean] also, prince of Judah, broke the
Sabbath,”[659] which is doubtless false, but is of no consequence as
authority. His fourth argument is original, and may fitly close the list
of reasons assigned in the early fathers for not observing the
Sabbath. It is given in full without an answer:—

“And in Matthew we read, that it is written Isaiah also and

the rest of his colleagues broke the Sabbath.”[660]
 CHAPTER XVIII.
THE SABBATH IN THE RECORD OF THE EARLY FATHERS.

The first reasons for neglecting the Sabbath are now mostly obsolete—A
portion of the early fathers taught the perpetuity of the decalogue, and
made it the standard of moral character—What they say concerning
the origin of the Sabbath at Creation—Their testimony concerning the
perpetuity of the ancient Sabbath, and concerning its observance—
Enumeration of the things which caused the suppression of the
Sabbath and the elevation of Sunday.
The reasons offered by the early fathers for neglecting the
observance of the Sabbath show conclusively that they had no
special light on the subject by reason of living in the first centuries,
which we in this later age do not possess. The fact is, so many of the
reasons offered by them are manifestly false and absurd that those
who in these days discard the Sabbath, do also discard the most of
the reasons offered by these fathers for this same course. We have
also learned from such of the early fathers as mention first-day
observance, the exact nature of the Sunday festival, and all the
reasons which in the first centuries were offered in its support. Very
few indeed of these reasons are now offered by modern first-day
writers.
But some of the fathers bear emphatic testimony to the perpetuity
of the ten commandments, and make their observance the condition
of eternal life. Some of them also distinctly assert the origin of the
Sabbath at creation. Several of them moreover either bear witness to
the existence of Sabbath-keepers, or bear decisive testimony to the
perpetuity and obligation of the Sabbath, or define the nature of
proper Sabbatic observance, or connect the observance of the
Sabbath and first day together. Let us now hear the testimony of
those who assert the authority of the ten commandments. Irenæus
asserts their perpetuity, and makes them a test of Christian
character. Thus he says:—
 “For God at the first, indeed, warning them [the Jews] by
means of natural precepts, which from the beginning he had
implanted in mankind, that is, by means of the Decalogue
(which, if any one does not observe, he has no salvation), did
then demand nothing more of them.”[661]

This is a very strong statement. He makes the ten commandments

the law of nature implanted in man’s being at the beginning; and so
inherited by all mankind. This is no doubt true. It is the presence of
the carnal mind or law of sin and death, implanted in man by the fall,
that has partially obliterated this law, and made the work of the new
covenant a necessity.[662] He again asserts the perpetuity and
authority of the ten commandments:—

“Preparing man for this life, the Lord himself did speak in
his own person to all alike the words of the Decalogue: and
therefore, in like manner, do they remain permanently with us,
receiving, by means of his advent in the flesh, extension and
increase, but not abrogation.”[663]

By the “extension” of the decalogue, Irenæus doubtless means the

exposition which the Saviour gave of the meaning of the
commandments in his sermon on the mount.[664] Theophilus speaks
in like manner concerning the decalogue:—

“For God has given us a law and holy commandments; and

every one who keeps these can be saved, and, obtaining the
resurrection, can inherit incorruption.”[665]

“We have learned a holy law; but we have as Law-giver him

who is really God, who teaches us to act righteously, and to
be pious, and to do good.”[666]
 “Of this great and wonderful law which tends to all
righteousness, the ten heads are such as we have already
rehearsed.”[667]

Tertullian calls the ten commandments “the rules of our regenerate

life,” that is to say, the rules which govern the life of a converted
man:—

“They who theorize respecting numbers, honor the number

ten as the parent of all the others, and as imparting perfection
to the human nativity. For my own part, I prefer viewing this
measure of time in reference to God, as if implying that the
ten months rather initiated man into the ten commandments;
so that the numerical estimate of the time needed to
consummate our natural birth should correspond to the
numerical classification of the rules of our regenerate life.”[668]

In showing the deep guilt involved in the violation of the seventh

commandment, Tertullian speaks of the sacredness of the
commandments which precede it, naming several of them in
particular, and among them the fourth, and then says of the precept
against adultery that

It stands “in the very forefront of the most holy law, among
the primary counts of the celestial edict.”[669]

Clement of Rome, or rather the author whose works have been

ascribed to this father, speaks thus of the decalogue as a test:—

“On account of those, therefore, who, by neglect of their

own salvation, please the evil one, and those who, by study of
their own profit, seek to please the good One, ten things have
been prescribed as a test to this present age, according to the
number of the ten plagues which were brought upon
Egypt.”[670]
 Novatian, who wrote about a. d. 250, is accounted the founder of
the sect called Cathari or Puritans. He wrote a treatise on the
Sabbath, which is not extant. There is no reference to Sunday in any
of his writings. He makes the following striking remarks concerning
the moral law:—

“The law was given to the children of Israel for this purpose,
that they might profit by it, and return to those virtuous
manners which, although they had received them from their
fathers, they had corrupted in Egypt by reason of their
intercourse with a barbarous people. Finally, also, those ten
commandments on the tables teach nothing new, but remind
them of what had been obliterated—that righteousness in
them, which had been put to sleep, might revive again as it
were by the afflatus of the law, after the manner of a fire
[nearly extinguished].”[671]

It is evident that in the judgment of Novatian, the ten

commandments enjoined nothing that was not sacredly regarded by
the patriarchs before Jacob went down into Egypt. It follows,
therefore, that, in his opinion, the Sabbath was made, not at the fall
of the manna, but when God sanctified the seventh day, and that
holy men from the earliest ages observed it.
The Apostolical Constitutions, written about the third century, give
us an understanding of what was widely regarded in the third century
as apostolic doctrine. They speak thus of the ten commandments:—

“Have before thine eyes the fear of God, and always

remember the ten commandments of God,—to love the one
and only Lord God with all thy strength; to give no heed to
idols, or any other beings, as being lifeless gods, or irrational
beings or dæmons.”[672]

“He gave a plain law to assist the law of nature, such a one
as is pure, saving, and holy, in which his own name was
 inscribed, perfect, which is never to fail, being complete in ten
commands, unspotted, converting souls.”[673]

This writer, like Irenæus, believed in the identity of the decalogue

with the law of nature. These testimonies show that in the writings of
the early fathers are some of the strongest utterances in behalf of
the perpetuity and authority of the ten commandments. Now let us
hear what they say concerning the origin of the Sabbath at creation.
The epistle ascribed to Barnabas, says:—

“And he says in another place, ‘If my sons keep the

Sabbath, then will I cause my mercy to rest upon them.’ The
Sabbath is mentioned at the beginning of the creation [thus]:
‘And God made in six days the works of his hands, and made
an end on the seventh day, and rested on it, and sanctified
it.’”[674]

Irenæus seems plainly to connect the origin of the Sabbath with

the sanctification of the seventh day:—

“These [things promised] are [to take place] in the times of

the kingdom, that is, upon the seventh day, which has been
sanctified, in which God rested from all his works which he
created, which is the true Sabbath, in which they shall not be
engaged in any earthly occupation.”[675]

Tertullian, likewise, refers the origin of the Sabbath to “the

benediction of the Father”:—

“But inasmuch as birth is also completed with the seventh

month, I more readily recognize in this number than in the
eighth the honor of a numerical agreement with the
Sabbatical period; so that the month in which God’s image is
sometimes produced in a human birth, shall in its number tally
 with the day on which God’s creation was completed and
hallowed.”[676]

“For even in the case before us he [Christ] fulfilled the law,

while interpreting its condition; [moreover] he exhibits in a
clear light the different kinds of work, while doing what the law
excepts from the sacredness of the Sabbath, [and] while
imparting to the Sabbath day itself which from the beginning
had been consecrated by the benediction of the Father, an
additional sanctity by his own beneficent action.”[677]

Origen, who, as we have seen, believed in a mystical Sabbath, did

nevertheless fix its origin at the sanctification of the seventh day:—

“For he [Celsus] knows nothing of the day of the Sabbath

and rest of God, which follows the completion of the world’s
creation, and which lasts during the duration of the world, and
in which all those will keep festival with God who have done
all their works in their six days.”[678]

The testimony of Novatian which has been given relative to the

sacredness and authority of the decalogue plainly implies the
existence of the Sabbath in the patriarchal ages, and its observance
by those holy men of old. It was given to Israel that they might
“return to those virtuous manners which, although they had
received them from their fathers, they had corrupted in Egypt.” And
he adds, “Those ten commandments on the tables teach nothing
new, but remind them of what had been obliterated.”[679] He did not,
therefore, believe the Sabbath to have originated at the fall of the
manna, but counted it one of those things which were practiced by
their fathers before Jacob went down to Egypt.
Lactantius places the origin of the Sabbath at creation:—
 “God completed the world and this admirable work of
nature in the space of six days (as is contained in the secrets
of holy Scripture) and consecrated the seventh day on
which he had rested from his works. But this is the Sabbath
day, which, in the language of the Hebrews, received its name
from the number, whence the seventh is the legitimate and
complete number.”[680]

In a poem on Genesis written about the time of Lactantius, but by

an unknown author, we have an explicit testimony to the divine
appointment of the seventh day to a holy use while man was yet in
Eden, the garden of God:—

“The seventh came, when God

At his work’s end did rest, decreeing it
Sacred unto the coming age’s joys.”[681]

The Apostolical Constitutions, while teaching the present

obligation of the Sabbath, plainly indicate its origin to have been at
creation:—

“O Lord Almighty, thou hast created the world by Christ,

and hast appointed the Sabbath in memory thereof, because
that on that day thou hast made us rest from our works, for
the meditation upon thy laws.”[682]

Such are the testimonies of the early fathers to the primeval origin
of the Sabbath, and to the sacredness and perpetual obligation of
the ten commandments. We now call attention to what they say
relative to the perpetuity of the Sabbath, and to its observance in the
centuries during which they lived. Tertullian defines Christ’s relation
to the Sabbath:—

“He was called ‘Lord of the Sabbath’ because he

maintained the Sabbath as his own institution.”[683]
 He affirms that Christ did not abolish the Sabbath:—

“Christ did not at all rescind the Sabbath: he kept the law
thereof, and both in the former case did a work which was
beneficial to the life of his disciples (for he indulged them with
the relief of food when they were hungry), and in the present
instance cured the withered hand; in each case intimating by
facts, ‘I came not to destroy the law, but to fulfill it.’”[684]

Nor can it be said that while Tertullian denied that Christ abolished
the Sabbath he did believe that he transferred its sacredness from
the seventh day of the week to the first, for he continues thus:—

“He [Christ] exhibits in a clear light the different kinds of

work, while doing what the law excepts from the sacredness
of the Sabbath, [and] while imparting to the Sabbath day
itself, which from the beginning had been consecrated by the
benediction of the Father, an additional sanctity by his own
beneficent action. For he furnished to this day divine
safeguards—a course which his adversary would have
pursued for some other days, to avoid honoring the Creator’s
Sabbath, and restoring to the Sabbath the works which were
proper for it.”[685]

This is a very remarkable statement. The modern doctrine of the

change of the Sabbath was unknown in Tertullian’s time. Had it then
been in existence, there could be no doubt that in the words last
quoted he was aiming at it a heavy blow; for the very thing which he
asserts Christ’s adversary, Satan, would have had him do, that
modern first-day writers assert he did do in consecrating another day
instead of adding to the sanctity of his Father’s Sabbath.
Archelaus of Cascar in Mesopotamia emphatically denies the
abolition of the Sabbath:—
 “Again, as to the assertion that the Sabbath has been
abolished, we deny that he has abolished it plainly; for he was
himself also Lord of the Sabbath.”[686]

Justin Martyr, as we have seen, was an out-spoken opponent of

Sabbatic observance, and of the authority of the law of God. He was
by no means always candid in what he said. He has occasion to
refer to those who observed the seventh day, and he does it with
contempt. Thus he says:—

“But if some, through weak-mindedness, wish to observe

such institutions as were given by Moses (from which they
expect some virtue, but which we believe were appointed by
reason of the hardness of the people’s hearts), along with
their hope in this Christ, and [wish to perform] the eternal and
natural acts of righteousness and piety, yet choose to live with
the Christians and the faithful, as I said before, not inducing
them either to be circumcised like themselves, or to keep the
Sabbath, or to observe any other such ceremonies, then I
hold that we ought to join ourselves to such, and associate
with them in all things as kinsmen and brethren.”[687]

These words are spoken of Sabbath-keeping Christians. Such of

them as were of Jewish descent no doubt generally retained
circumcision. But there were many Gentile Christians who observed
the Sabbath, as we shall see, and it is not true that they observed
circumcision. Justin speaks of this class as acting from “weak-
mindedness,” yet he inadvertently alludes to the keeping of the
commandments as the performance of “the eternal and natural
acts of righteousness,” a most appropriate designation indeed.
Justin would fellowship those who act thus, provided they would
fellowship him in the contrary course. But though Justin, on this
condition, could fellowship these “weak-minded” brethren, he says
that there are those who “do not venture to have any intercourse
with, or to extend hospitality to, such persons; but I do not agree with
them.”[688] This shows the bitter spirit which prevailed in some
quarters toward the Sabbath, even as early as Justin’s time. Justin
has no word of condemnation for these intolerant professors; he is
only solicitous lest those persons who perform “the eternal and
natural acts of righteousness and piety” should condemn those who
do not perform them.
Clement of Alexandria, though a mystical writer, bears an
important testimony to the perpetuity of the ancient Sabbath, and to
man’s present need thereof. He comments thus on the fourth
commandment:—

“And the fourth word is that which intimates that the world
was created by God, and that he gave us the seventh day as
a rest, on account of the trouble that there is in life. For God is
incapable of weariness, and suffering, and want. But we who
bear flesh need rest. The seventh day, therefore, is
proclaimed a rest—abstraction from ills—preparing for the
primal day, our true rest.”[689]

Clement recognized the authority of the moral law; for he treats of

the ten commandments, one by one, and shows what each enjoins.
He plainly teaches that the Sabbath was made for man, and that he
now needs it as a day of rest, and his language implies that it was
made at the creation. But in the next paragraph, he makes some
curious suggestions, which deserve notice:—

“Having reached this point, we must mention these things

by the way; since the discourse has turned on the seventh
and the eighth. For the eighth may possibly turn out to be
properly the seventh, and the seventh manifestly the sixth,
and the latter properly the Sabbath, and the seventh a day of
work. For the creation of the world was concluded in six
days.”[690]

This language has been adduced to show that Clement called the
eighth day, or Sunday, the Sabbath. But first-day writers in general
have not dared to commit themselves to such an interpretation, and
some of them have expressly discarded it. Let us notice this
statement with especial care. He speaks of the ordinals seventh and
eighth in the abstract, but probably with reference to the days of the
week. Observe then,
1. That he does not intimate that the eighth day has become the
Sabbath in place of the seventh which was once such, but he says
that the eighth day may possibly turn out to be properly the seventh.
2. That in Clement’s time, a. d. 194, there was not any confusion
in the minds of men as to which day was the ancient Sabbath, and
which one was the first day of the week, or eighth day, as it was
often called, nor does he intimate that there was.
3. But Clement, from some cause, says that possibly the eighth
day should be counted the seventh, and the seventh day the sixth.
Now, if this should be done, it would change the numbering of the
days, not only as far back as the resurrection of Christ, but all the
way back to the creation.
4. If, therefore, Clement, in this place, designed to teach that
Sunday is the Sabbath, he must also have held that it always had
been such.
5. But observe that, while he changes the numbering of the days
of the week, he does not change the Sabbath from one day to
another. He says the eighth may possibly be the seventh, and the
seventh, properly the sixth, and the latter, or this one [Greek, ἡ μὲν
κυρίως εἶυαι σάββατου,], properly the Sabbath, and the seventh a
day of work.
6. By the latter must be understood the day last mentioned, which
he says should be called, not the seventh, but the sixth; and by the
seventh must certainly be intended that day which he says is not the
eighth, but the seventh, that is to say, Sunday.
There remains but one difficulty to be solved, and that is why he
should suggest the changing of the numbering of the days of the
week by striking one from the count of each day, thus making the
Sabbath the sixth day in the count instead of the seventh; and
making Sunday the seventh day in the count instead of the eighth.
The answer seems to have eluded the observation of the first-day
and anti-Sabbatarian writers who have sought to grasp it. But there
is a fact which solves the difficulty. Clement’s commentary on the
fourth commandment, from which these quotations are taken, is
principally made up of curious observations on “the perfect number
six,” “the number seven motherless and childless,” and the number
eight, which is “a cube,” and the like matters, and is taken with some
change of arrangement almost word for word from Philo Judæus, a
teacher who flourished at Alexandria about one century before
Clement. Whoever will take pains to compare these two writers will
find in Philo nearly all the ideas and illustrations which Clement has
used, and the very language also in which he has expressed them.
[691] Philo was a mystical teacher to whom Clement looked up as to
a master. A statement which we find in Philo, in immediate
connection with several curious ideas, which Clement quotes from
him, gives, beyond all doubt, the key to Clement’s suggestion that
possibly the eighth day should be called the seventh, and the
seventh day called the sixth. Philo said that, according to God’s
purpose, the first day of time was not to be numbered with the other
days of the creation week. Thus he says:—

“And he allotted each of the six days to one of the portions

of the whole, taking out the first day, which he does not
even call the first day, that it may not be numbered with the
others, but entitling it one, he names it rightly, perceiving in it,
and ascribing to it, the nature and appellation of the limit.”[692]

This would simply change the numbering of the days, as counted

by Philo, and afterward partially adopted by Clement, and make the
Sabbath, not the seventh day, but the sixth, and Sunday, not the
eighth day, but the seventh; but it would still leave the Sabbath day
and the Sunday the same identical days as before. It would,
however, give to the Sabbath the name of sixth day, because the first
of the six days of creation was not counted; and it would cause the
eighth day, so called in the early church because of its coming next
after the Sabbath, to be called seventh day. Thus the Sabbath would
be the sixth day, and the seventh a day of work, and yet the Sabbath
would be the identical day that it had ever been, and the Sunday,
though called seventh day, would still, as ever before, remain a day
on which ordinary labor was lawful. Of course, Philo’s idea that the
first day of time should not be counted, is wholly false; for there is
not one fact in the Bible to support it, but many which expressly
contradict it, and even Clement, with all deference to Philo, only
timidly suggests it. But when the matter is laid open, it shows that
Clement had no thought of calling Sunday the Sabbath, and that he
does expressly confirm what we have fully proved out of other of the
fathers, that Sunday was a day on which, in their judgment, labor
was not sinful.
Tertullian, at different periods of his life, held different views
respecting the Sabbath, and committed them all to writing. We last
quoted from him a decisive testimony to the perpetuity of the
Sabbath, coupled with an equally decisive testimony against the
sanctification of the first day of the week. In another work, from
which we have already quoted his statement that Christians should
not kneel on Sunday, we find another statement that “some few”
abstained from kneeling on the Sabbath. This has probable
reference to Carthage, where Tertullian lived. He speaks thus:—

“In the matter of kneeling also, prayer is subject to diversity

of observance, through the act of some few who abstain from
kneeling on the Sabbath; and since this dissension is
particularly on its trial before the churches, the Lord will give
his grace that the dissentients may either yield, or else
indulge their opinion without offense to others.”[693]

The act of standing in prayer was one of the chief honors

conferred upon Sunday. Those who refrained from kneeling on the
seventh day, without doubt did it because they desired to honor that
day. This particular act is of no consequence; for it was adopted in
imitation of those who, from tradition and custom, thus honored
Sunday; but we have in this an undoubted reference to Sabbath-
keeping Christians. Tertullian speaks of them, however, in a manner
quite unlike that of Justin in his reference to the commandment-
keepers of his time.
Origen, like many other of the fathers, was far from being
consistent with himself. Though he has spoken against Sabbatic
observance, and has honored the so-called Lord’s day as something
better than the ancient Sabbath, he has nevertheless given a
discourse expressly designed to teach Christians the proper method
of observing the Sabbath. Here is a portion of this sermon:—

“But what is the feast of the Sabbath except that of which

the apostle speaks, ‘There remaineth therefore a Sabbatism,’
that is, the observance of the Sabbath by the people of God?
Leaving the Jewish observances of the Sabbath, let us see
how the Sabbath ought to be observed by a Christian. On the
Sabbath day all worldly labors ought to be abstained from. If,
therefore, you cease from all secular works, and execute
nothing worldly, but give yourselves up to spiritual exercises,
repairing to church, attending to sacred reading and
instruction, thinking of celestial things, solicitous for the future,
placing the Judgment to come before your eyes, not looking
to things present and visible, but to those which are future
and invisible, this is the observance of the Christian
Sabbath.”[694]

This is by no means a bad representation of the proper

observance of the Sabbath. Such a discourse addressed to
Christians is a strong evidence that many did then hallow that day.
Some, indeed, have claimed that these words were spoken
concerning Sunday. They would have it that he contrasts the
observance of the first day with that of the seventh. But the contrast
is not between the different methods of keeping two days, but
between two methods of observing one day. The Jews in Origen’s
time spent the day mainly in mere abstinence from labor, and often
added sensuality to idleness. But the Christians were to observe it in
divine worship, as well as sacred rest. What day he intends cannot