ECCLESIASTES: A POLEMIC AGAINST HUMAN AUTONOMY

Ecclesiastes offers two perspectives on life, that of Qoheleth (1:2-12:8) and the frame narrator (1:1; 12:9-14). Often the voice of the frame narrator is marginalized or simply remains silent as no distinction is made between his third-person narration and Qoheleth’s first-person autobiography. This is unfortunate since the frame narrator’s perspective is the key to understanding the text as he situates Qoheleth’s words and provides the final conclusion. It will be the contention of this essay that the frame narrator uses Qoheleth’s philosophy to represent the epitome of human reason which ultimately leads to a rejection of meaning in life and in turn, affirms faith in God as the only source of meaning in life. I will explore this proposal by examining these dual perspectives of Ecclesiastes and contextualizing the book within the canonical narrative.


A. Qoheleth’s Autonomous Epistemology

Qoheleth understands reality in light of one singular governing principle: his own mind. His beliefs are clearly shaped by Israelite tradition as he espouses a retributive ethic – one reaps what one sows. This is common in wisdom literature and finds its most positive affirmation in the book of Proverbs, but both the books of Job and Ecclesiastes question this ethic in light of contrary experience – sometimes the righteous suffer and the wicked prosper. Doubting the specific applications of the general ideology of retribution is not, in itself, unorthodox. What appears to be counter to his heritage is the overall style and method in which Qoheleth claims to know the world in which he lives. Qoheleth uses neither covenant language nor the covenant name Yahweh. Rather, every reference to God in the text is Elohim. This is significant because the absence of covenant language in reference to God is indicative of limiting knowledge to general revelation as interpreted in isolation from God’s spoken word. Indeed, the overall nature of wisdom literature in the OT focuses on universal concepts common to the experience of all mankind. Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes revolve around the creation narrative, and each book sets out to communicate what can be understood from the governing conditions God has established in the world. Knowing this aids in the understanding of why covenant language is absent and the divine name Elohim is used over that of Yahweh. Is Qoheleth therefore in line with scripture and tradition? Yes and no. Both the books of Job and Proverbs use the covenant name Yahweh at key points and both emphasize the importance of special revelation as the proper interpretive lens for understanding general revelation. For his part, Qoheleth never leads the reader beyond the observable world. This is only done by the frame narrator in the epilogue. While Qoheleth is influenced by scripture and tradition, his ultimate authority rests solely upon human autonomy.

According to Qoheleth, God is neither immanent nor personal. He is both distant and silent. Epistemology, then, is limited to the human mind as a given individual empirically interprets life from a naturalistic perspective; and in a world where God is silent, the greatest individual perspective is the loftiest. Standing on the archetypal precipice of wisdom and experience, one is able to relate to the populace how fair the epistemological weather is or is not. Therefore, Qoheleth takes on a Solomonic identity in order to characterize the furthest reaches of wisdom and experience.


The Link with King Solomon

Over the centuries, history has borne witness to the belief that Solomon authored Ecclesiastes. From early rabbinic scribes to the present, Solomonic authorship continues to maintain adherents. However, it is the view of this essay that Solomon did not author the book. Rather, the anonymous author utilizes an intentional association with Solomon as a key literary device in the service of the overall purpose of the book.

Like all good literature, Ecclesiastes is composed of layers of literary genres. Classifying it under the general designation of wisdom literature is both a help and a hindrance. Knowing that Ecclesiastes is part of the wisdom corpus allows the interpreter to compare and contrast its similarity to other texts in the same field. This results in fruitful exegesis, but often only on a limited level because interpreters tend to overlook the two voices present in the text as they narrowly focus on Ecclesiastes as one singular unit of pithy sayings and approach the book with the desire to harmonize it with the book of Proverbs. To avoid oversight, it is essential to recognize the narrative structure found in Qoheleth’s text, which can be referred to as fictional autobiography. The author imaginatively constructs an autobiographical narrative based upon an apostate Solomon. It is almost as if Solomon is addressing the reader from the grave as 1:12 records: “I, [Qoheleth], was king over Israel in Jerusalem.” The only time Solomon ceased to be king was in death.

This pseudo-autobiography of Qoheleth is introduced (1:1) by the frame narrator: “The words of the Teacher, son of David, king in Jerusalem.” The first progeny of David to reign as king was Solomon, who prayed for and was granted great wisdom (1 Kings 3:6-28). Thus, the biblical record has led to the traditional association of Solomonic authorship over both Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. Further support for this link is found in the name Qoheleth. This proper title draws the reader to 1 Kings 8, the dedication of the Temple, where Solomon gathers the people together to address them. The verbal root qhl is used frequently in this text to refer to Solomon’s act of assembling the people. In Ecclesiastes, to assemble then translates to the one who assembles and addresses the assembly. Perhaps as an apparition, Solomon is gathering his congregation together once more to hear his words.

Understanding the author’s employment of a “Solomonic guise” is essential to the argument of the book. In 1:16 Qoheleth says, “Look, I have increased in wisdom more than anyone who has ruled over Jerusalem before me; I have experienced much wisdom and knowledge.” Historically, no king over Jerusalem was wiser than Solomon, and only the wisest and most experienced king can serve as the representative of the heights of human autonomy. From his perspective as king/judge, he was able to survey the entire kingdom. He saw the righteous deprived of justice while the wicked prospered (3:16). He indulged in all the pleasures that could be offered to the senses (2:10). He attained limitless wealth, hordes of possessions, and a great name (2:4-9). Solomon alone embodies all that one could amass and experience in life.


The Importance of the Theme and Prologue

A prevalent interpretive strategy is to view Ecclesiastes as bi-polar. Qoheleth is understood to deconstruct lofty ideals in order to erect a theology of contentment by balancing harsh reality with joy. This assessment of Ecclesiastes places equal weight on Qoheleth’s pessimism and his admonishments to be content. However, the text does not justify such equity. Rather, the encouragement to merriment in the text should be seen under the book’s major theme which brackets Qoheleth’s first-person narration. Additionally, the prologue is an outworking of the theme and hence, serves as an interpretive key for Qoheleth’s text. It would follow then that paying scant attention to either the theme or the prologue yields poor conclusions.

The theme of the book is found in Qoheleth’s opening line, 1:2, and his closing line, 12:8. It is the literary nature of a theme/thesis to govern the body of a text and this is strikingly the case with Ecclesiastes. “Meaningless! Meaningless! Everything is meaningless!” is accentuated by enclosing Qoheleth’s words within this theme and repeating it throughout the text. Due to the theme’s frequent repetition, the reader is not likely to glance over or forget Qoheleth’s main idea. In addition, the manner in which the theme is phrased highlights its primacy for the book. It is a Hebrew superlative and functions like “holy, holy, holy” or “holy of holies.” The threefold repetition indicates totality – as God is considered to be completely holy, so too life, according to Qoheleth, is completely meaningless. The term translated in the NIV as “meaningless” is hebel; occurring thirty-eight times in the Masoretic Text. Defining this term seems to be as elusive a task to biblical scholars as was Qoheleth’s search for meaning. Fortunately, it is not more or less obscure than any other term “under the sun.” Any word, regardless of the language employed, is elusive when it is set apart from its context, and one of hebel’s many connotations just so happens to be “elusiveness” (e.g. 1:14). Perhaps then, an unnecessary stigma has been created by interpreters as they have delved too deeply in the nihilistic abyss of Qoheleth’s thought.

Here are a few representative connotations of hebel found within Ecclesiastes and the OT: “transience” (6:12; Job 7:16; Psalm 39:6, 12; Proverbs 21:6), “futile” (8:14; Isaiah 49:4; Job 9:29; Psalm 94:11), “senseless” (7:6; Jeremiah 10:3; Job 27:12; Psalm 39:7), and the literal sense of the term is “vapor” (closely associated with ruah - 1:14; Isaiah 57:13; Proverbs 13:11; Psalm 144:4). Each of these terms are clearly related and convey a sense of vanity. For Qoheleth, the word pictures evoked by “vapor” and “chasing after the wind” serve to express his principal point: “Everything is hebel!” Just as one’s breath in the cool of winter cannot be grasped, so too is meaning “under the sun.” Hebel’s primary function in Ecclesiastes is to prove that human autonomy does not yield epistemological fruit.

The prologue (1:2-11) fleshes out the theme and sets the tenor for the remaining text. Qoheleth paints a portrait of futility and pervasively employs phenomenological language. In effect, he is asking the reader to “see for yourself.” It is the common experience of all to observe the rising and setting of the sun, the revolving nature of the wind and waters, and the circle of life (“generations come and generations go”). Ultimately, everything exists under an endless cycle. Reality is comparative to a spinning wheel, and humans are like rats running aimlessly upon it. Again, Qoheleth does not present this pessimistic picture as a dilemma to be solved by a theology of joy. The type of skeptical rhetoric used in the prologue is consistent with the remaining text, even in the instances where Qoheleth enjoins the reader to “eat, drink, and be merry” (2:24-26). Also, if joy was to either counter balance or supersede the incongruities of life, then why is an appeal to joy absent from the prologue? On one level, it is correct to view Ecclesiastes as tearing down a naïve commitment to traditional wisdom in the face of harsh circumstances in order to build up a recourse to joy, which is a gift from the Creator (12:1-7), but this understanding of the text is limited and when left alone, elicits a conclusion that is diametrically opposed to the purposes of the book. What is ultimately being deconstructed is Qoheleth’s autonomy and set in its place, the epistemological humility of the frame narrator. The significance and place of the joy motif within Qoheleth’s thought will be discussed under the subheading “Search for Life’s Meaning.” For now, it is important to survey three other key phrases that recur within the text and shed light upon Qoheleth’s self-determined philosophy.


Key Motifs

1:14 presents the reader with three prominent motifs in one sentence: “I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind.” The first of these, “I have seen,” is often understood in wisdom literature as first-person reflection. The wise sage is thinking back upon life and then relating his conclusions to the “assembly.” The inherent hitch in Qoheleth’s personal reflection is not simply found in his use of the first-person. It is rather in what he appeals to as authoritative, namely, himself. Certainly, a sage has a measure of authority, and a king has an even greater authority; but ultimately, Qoheleth puts himself in the place of God. His experience and his wisdom are to be understood as having the final say in regard to life’s meaning or lack thereof. What about the many references to God? Qoheleth is not an atheist. He is rather a religious secularist/humanist. Autonomy does not demand the denial of God’s existence either intellectually or even psychologically. Moreover, autonomy should not be solely understood as arrogance. Remember, Qoheleth appeals to the natural machinations of the world so that his readers can in turn look out and test his conclusions. His elevated position gives him a bird’s eye view, but he believes that others have the ability to understand the world in the same autonomous manner. He is also well aware of human limitation (8:17) and sin (7:20). There are great mysteries that the finite human mind cannot solve and one’s pursuit of wisdom is often thwarted by idolatry (7:29). The essential problem of autonomy is the issue of ultimate authority – the human mind or the mind of God. Qoheleth may have understood his limitations and the limitations of others, but his basis for knowledge rested solely upon his own thinking and experience.

The second motif, “under the sun,” possibly carries the greatest significance of the three. None of the three motifs should be viewed in isolation from the others, but this particular phrase carries a major metaphysical punch, and it is unique to the book of Ecclesiastes. While it bears repeating that the creation narrative looms large behind the text, there is also a connection to Genesis 3. Work is mankind’s natural disposition, but after the Fall, work becomes a burden. Under the sweltering sun, people sweat in their labor. This is one possible and yet subtle meaning of the phrase, adding to the distressing picture Qoheleth has created. The phrase primarily functions as a referent of the observable world. Qoheleth’s theory of knowledge is restricted only to that which the senses mediate. He believes in transcendental necessities (God, heaven, justice, etc), but concludes that individuals can never really know what is outside of their vision. For example, in 3:11 Qoheleth states, “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” From an “under the sun” perspective, humans are restricted to an earthly horizon, and all of Qoheleth’s thinking falls within this “under the sun” category: his views on God, joy, death, justice, sin, meaning, etc. Without God’s spoken revelation, epistemology is severely restricted. As a wisdom teacher, this lack of knowledge and the apparent contradictions between his Hebrew wisdom tradition and the harsh reality of a fallen world, leads to the conclusion that “all is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.”

The third phrase, “chasing after the wind,” clarifies the meaning of hebel. This was briefly alluded to earlier under the discussion of the theme. When joined in the text, hebel and ruah (wind) are synonyms. The imagery is an anti-image. The wind is invisible and immaterial. Meaning is no more accessible to the human mind than the intangible wind is able to be seized. The NIV renders 1:13b: “What a heavy burden God has laid on mankind!” The more likely translation is: “It is an evil task that God has given to the human race to keep them occupied.” The evil task is the very search for meaning (1:13a). Qoheleth is steeped in cynicism because meaning “under the sun” eludes him. He concludes chapter one (v. 18) with the following: “For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief.”


Search for Life’s Meaning

Even though Qoheleth tells his readers he discovered that the search for meaning is futile, he invites them along for the journey in order to prove his conclusion. Qoheleth knows the human condition well. It is a frequent refrain of the heart to say “If I could only .” He takes the reader to the heights of human aspiration only to show how nothing done “under the sun” delivers a definitive answer to one’s deepest hungers (1:8).

The first possible venue for meaning is pleasure/work (2:1-11). Qoheleth spared no expense in indulging his senses and inner desires. He owned and constructed many houses, took on various horticultural projects, possessed servants and an unmatched livestock, collected a horde of valuables, obtained musicians, and finally, in 2:8 Qoheleth says that he amassed “a harem as well – the delights of a man’s heart.” The reader is thus led to the assumption that Qoheleth was truly able to experience all the pleasures that most people only fantasize about. For a time, Qoheleth enjoyed the various pleasures and work that he pursued, but when the dust settled, he concluded that it was all for nothing (2:17-23).

The second possible location for meaning is wisdom (2:12-16). He mentions that the wise are able to observe the proper course, but the foolish wander blindly and without aim. Again, he is tempted to think that wisdom, like pleasure/work before it, is the answer to his search since it is clearly superior to folly. Nevertheless, it too comes up empty.

Qoheleth presents the reader with a decisive foil to his pursuit of meaning. Wisdom is thwarted when those who are righteous die in their youth while those who are wicked live to a ripe old age (2:21; 7:15). It is frustrated by human limitation and is ultimately defeated by death as both the foolish and the wise suffer the same fate (2:14; 9:1-3). So too, pleasure gained by the accumulation of possessions and wealth is spoiled by death. Qoheleth bemoans that it is not worth the trouble of working so hard to earn so much only to turn it all over to someone else who did not do the work (6:1). In life “under the sun” death reigns supreme and brings everything to nothing. This is eloquently expressed in 3:20 as Qoheleth considers the fate of humans and animals: “All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return.”

Once the reader arrives at the conclusion of the search, discovering that “everything is meaningless,” what is next? How are people to live in a world without meaning, where death is the destiny of every person (9:1-3)? Qoheleth directs the reader to “eat, drink, and be merry.” This joy motif occurs six times: 2:24-26; 3:12-14; 3:22; 5:18-20; 8:15; 9:7-10. Each time it is used for the same purpose: a sedative (5:20). At no point does Qoheleth change his skeptical tone to one of hope. Rather, as he observed that a degree of joy could be found “under the sun” through pleasure and work (2:1-11), he encourages his readers to revel in that temporal joy. In 2:22-23 Qoheleth declares, “What do people get for all the toil and anxious striving with which they labor under the sun? All their days their work is grief and pain; even at night their minds do not rest. This too is meaningless.” Then, equally, v. 24 instructs the reader to take joy in work and pleasure, “A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their toil. This, too, I see, is from the hand of God.” Qoheleth is not contradicting himself. Pleasure and work do bring joy. Qoheleth felt genuine passion and a sense of accomplishment. He observed that this is a universal quality of human existence, and concluded that the Creator obviously made mankind to be content within the ever-spinning wheel of reality. Furthermore, the reference to God is tongue in cheek. As noted earlier, in 1:13b Qoheleth says: “It is an evil task that God has given to the human race to keep them occupied.” Thus, when he writes “this is their lot,” he means this is one’s fate, and individuals might as well make the best of it. Fox explains,

"To be a portion [heleq – “lot”] by Qohelet’s implicit definition, something must be at least temporarily in the owner’s possession and under his control. Pleasure is a portion but one must take it. When Qohelet’s frustration at human helplessness peaks, he urges taking one’s portion, pleasure. This is almost a counsel of despair. We cannot do much, we control next to nothing, but this at least we can do and can choose to do. If God allows us the means of pleasure, we can elect to enjoy it. Qohelet counsels a true carpe diem: seize the moment, experience what you have while you have it. Since God allows it, it must be what he wants, and refusing to take the gift would be to deny his will."

The commonly called carpe deim passages are then best understood as a divine narcotic, as 5:20 relates: “They seldom reflect on the days of their life, because God keeps them occupied with gladness of heart.” Qoheleth did all the searching that could be done for meaning. He knows by his superior experience and wisdom that meaning is unattainable “under the sun.” So, the reader should not take up a similar pursuit but instead, remain content in his/her current station. The heights of pleasure, work, wealth, prestige, and even wisdom do not provide meaning because of the silencing effect of the grave. Qoheleth is telling the reader to give up hope and live for today. In 3:22, he concludes: “So I saw that there is nothing better for a person than to enjoy their work, because that is their lot. For who can bring them to see what will happen after them?” Clearly, Qoheleth is not a “preacher of joy.”


B. The Corrective: The Second Voice of the Text

If Ecclesiastes ended at 12:8, its final message would promote hedonistic existentialism. Qoheleth led the reader on a grim journey. He deconstructed everything individuals idolize; nothing can fill the eternal hole within the human heart (3:11). Qoheleth honestly weighed human autonomy and found it wanting. The frame narrator, however, provides the antidote to the poison of a self-determined epistemology in the epilogue (12:9-14). Mankind was created to worship God. He alone can satisfy the unfathomable longing of the heart.


The Importance of the Epilogue

In Qoheleth’s epilogue, his illustrious rhetoric reaches its height (12:1-8). It is a poem about death and the transitory nature of life. Through it, he presents a final appeal to “grab all the gusto” one can before old age prohibits sensory joy and before the utter silence of death. His final words are an apt summary to his argument. Why then does this wisdom treatise continue on for another six verses? The reason is because Qoheleth’s narrative is used to demonstrate the inadequacy of human autonomy. At first, such an appraisal can be a hard pill to swallow. It is hard to accept that an entire biblical book, save for the epilogue, teaches a message that is counter to biblical theology (i.e., hopelessness). Nonetheless, the book of Job is similarly structured. The speeches of Job and his friends do not offer the conclusive perspective of the book and much of what is said is counter to the book’s closing message. Only when God speaks in the final chapters, does the reader encounter the true theology of the book. This does not imply that what is said by Job, his friends, or Qoheleth, should be overlooked. The interpreter first needs to be immersed within the story and suffer as the characters suffer so that, by the end, grace and hope are given to those who are broken and hopeless. The epilogue of Ecclesiastes is gracious gospel. It is a light in a dark meaningless world ruled by death.


Lordship Epistemology

Until 12:9, the voice of the frame narrator appeared in only two verses, 1:1 and 7:27. Now, within the epilogue, he seeks to teach “his son” (v. 12) the correct epistemological perspective, “fear God and obey his commandments” (v. 13b). To start, this second wise man commends the words of Qoheleth (vv. 9-10). His search was sincere and painstaking. In his effort, he strove to say what was fitting and upright. From Qoheleth’s “under the sun” perspective, “all is meaningless,” is the logical and honest result of autonomous reasoning. Despite his honesty, this assessment of reality is harsh, “like goads” and “firmly embedded nails” (v. 11). Qoheleth’s words cut through epistemological pretension and exemplify the height of human-centered wisdom. Every other philosophy of similar autonomous ilk fails to be as forthright as that of Qoheleth. In fact, the many competing perspectives that exist “under the sun” provide a limitless volume of books (v. 12). An individual could never survey all that is said by the various sages of the world. The attempt to do so is both impractical and depressing. After all, how does a person “know” which perspective actually corresponds with reality?

This epistemic dilemma demonstrates the value of Qoheleth’s words. Apart from divine revelation, there is no epistemological certainty. People are simply tossed hither and thither by the winds of vain speculation. Thus, in 12:13-14 the frame narrator gives the decisive answer to the quest for meaning:

"Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the duty of all mankind. For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether good or evil."

Qoheleth did call the reader to “fear God” (5:7; 7:15-18; 8:12-13), but the meaning of his appeals and that of the frame narrator is substantially different. The fear of God for Qoheleth is trepidation and fright. God is like a sleeping giant that people dare not arouse. It is best not to draw too much attention to oneself by either being too good or too evil because this may bring about God’s ire (7:16-18). Conversely, the fear of God for the frame narrator is humble adoration for the God of the covenant. Both understandings include a cowering posture, but only the perspective of the frame narrator allows for a communal relationship. He does this by his reference to the “commandments.” This word points back to God’s covenant with Israel at Sinai, and represents the first occurrence of covenant terminology in the entire book. The word also leads the reader to an “above the sun” epistemology. God’s “commandments” are his spoken words – special revelation. Through his commands or rather instructions, God provides both an interpretive lens for understanding reality and a means of fellowship with him. Of greater significance, the phrase “fear God and keep his commandments” is reminiscent of Proverbs 1:7a, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge.” LORD in this text is the covenant name, Yahweh. The reader is led back to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He is the God who is both transcendent and immanent. He is the God who speaks, and it is only by submission to his words that anyone can gain epistemological clarity. Moses encourages the Israelites with these words from Deuteronomy 8:2-3:

"Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD."

The frame narrator used Qoheleth autobiography to take the reader into the vast desert of an “under the sun” perspective only to elicit humility and provide the nourishing manna of God’s spoken word. Just as the manna came from above, so does knowledge. Epistemological authority does not begin with the human mind. How can it, since humans are but creatures? The God who spoke creation into existence has also provided a testimony, a living message that cuts through “joint and marrow” into that vast eternal hole within the human heart.


C. Ecclesiastes in the Context of the Canon

This section surveys Genesis 3 and 1 Corinthians 15, and in doing so, attempts to provide a canonical narrative that aids in the interpretation of Ecclesiastes. The first text under consideration is the advent of sin. If it can be shown that human autonomy led to the Fall, then Ecclesiastes, as a polemic against human autonomy, is a highly relevant message. The second text that is surveyed is noteworthy because it contains allusions to the book of Ecclesiastes and overturns the primary foil of the book, namely, death.


Human Autonomy as Cause of the Curse

When considering the Fall narrative, it is easy to ignore Eve’s epistemological perspective. Perhaps the brevity of the account and the emphasis on the eating of the forbidden fruit contribute to this neglect. Whatever the reason, it is imperative to understand Eve’s thinking. For, in understanding something of the thoughts and motivations of Eve, a person is better able to understand the cause of sin.

At the beginning of Genesis 3 the serpent approaches Eve and says, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?” In phrasing his question this way, the serpent is not merely calling into question a specific factual matter. He is also attempting to discredit the authority of God’s spoken revelation and undermine his goodness. The subtly of the serpent is found in how the question, referring to all the trees within the garden, makes Eve mindful of the singular tree that God prohibited. Eve responds, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’” Eve adds the line “and you must not touch it, or you will die.” Evidently, this tree, as it stood right in the middle of the garden, weighed heavily upon the minds of Adam and Eve. They were so cautious of going against God’s word that they placed upon themselves an even greater restriction. This gave the serpent the foothold he was looking for. He speaks again saying, “You will not surely die, for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” In effect, he was saying that God was holding out on Adam and Eve. According to the serpent, God is not good because he is purposely keeping them from being equal to himself. Eve knew herself to be a created being, and she knew the serpent likewise was a created being. God, on the other hand, was the Creator. The heavens and the earth were his handiwork. In spite of this knowledge, she put herself in the place of judge over the words of God and the words of the serpent. She looked at the evidence: “When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took and ate it” (v. 6). The root of the sinful act of disobeying God’s command lies in Eve’s autonomous judgment. Unwittingly, she was already attempting to be like God as she placed herself outside of his judgment in order to make her own conclusions. Questioning God’s authority was precisely the serpent’s intended goal in asking, “Did God really say?” Since its first utterance, this question continues to reverberate within the human heart. What lies behind various acts of disobedience is the desire to be like God. Human autonomy is therefore synonymous with idolatry. It is the fallen desire of the heart to worship oneself instead of God.


The Resurrection of the Dead

1 Corinthians 15 delivers the final definitive counter to Qoheleth’s hedonistic existentialism. Some within the Corinthian church were questioning whether the dead were raised. Paul passionately argues that if the dead are not raised then the Christian faith is “futile.” This is the first obvious association with the book of Ecclesiastes. Paul knows the book of Ecclesiastes well. An “under the sun” perspective cannot account for the resurrection of the dead and leads only to trivial joys in the midst of hopelessness. The second reference to Ecclesiastes is found at the end of v. 32: “If the dead are not raised, ‘Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.’” The resurrection of the dead is indispensable to the gospel message. The Fall ushered in the reign of death and rendered life “under the sun” futile (Romans 8:20), but through the resurrection of Christ, death is defeated. If this were not so, then it is best to “eat, drink, and be merry” because there is no hope out of this present existence of death and decay. Paul places before the reader two opposing views: Christianity and secular humanism. These are the two foundational epistemological options; a person either trusts in his/her own mind or the testimony of God. Though the empirical evidence of the resurrection of the dead is found to be lacking, one is called to believe in what is beyond observation. This does not lead to fideistic irrationalism, but instead directs the individual to the only place where reason finds its grounding: the mind of God. Humble faith gives a person the proper epistemological orientation. Through it, a Christian is able to have “the mind of Christ” (1 Corinthians 2:16) or endeavor to “think God’s thoughts after him.” Paul concludes chapter 15 with these words: “Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain” (v. 58). What is done “under the sun” is not “in vain” because Christ rose from the dead!


Conclusion

1 Kings 4:20 reads, “The people of Judah and Israel were as numerous as the sand on the seashore; they ate, they drink and they were happy.” Scholars favorable to the contention that Qoheleth is a herald of joy refer to this passage as evidence of a positive understanding of the refrain “eat, drink, and be merry.” The text is believed to relate national covenant blessing as a fulfillment to the promises of God given to Abraham and Israel. That may be true, but in itself this is a descriptive text. It does not directly encourage the reader toward a philosophy of contentment. Two other biblical texts may provide greater insight into this idiom:

"The Lord, the LORD Almighty, called you on that day to weep and to wail, to tear out your hair and put on sackcloth. But see, there is joy and revelry, slaughtering of cattle and killing of sheep, eating of meat and drinking of wine! ‘Let us eat and drink,’ you say, ‘for tomorrow we die!’” (Isaiah 22:12-13)

"And [Jesus] told them this parable: The ground of a certain rich man produced a good crop. He thought to himself, “What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.” Then he said, “This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I’ll say to myself, ‘You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink, and be merry.’” (Luke 12:16-19)

While these texts are also descriptive in nature, the speakers within the text are telling themselves to “eat, drink, and be merry.” Both texts are used negatively to refer to blind self-indulgence. “To eat, drink and be merry” is to become consumed with the temporary and trivial pleasures of life. In the case of Israel, they knew the Assyrians were going to besiege Jerusalem, but instead of repenting of their sins the people decided to engage in revelry before the army laid waste to the city. The rich ruler had more than what he needed. Instead of providing for the needs of others, he decided to secure for himself a future of affluence. Human autonomy grasps for equality with God (Genesis 3; Philippians 2:6), takes God for granted (Deuteronomy 8:11-17), and stores up treasures on earth that moths will eat, rust will corrode, and thieves will steal (Matthew 6:19). Human autonomy is the cause of mankind’s pitiful state and the continued reason why people “fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). The book of Ecclesiastes poignantly refutes this fallen perspective by allowing it to speak for itself. Vanity begets vanity. Fortunately the book does not end there. A person is capable of true epistemological vision through humble submission to God, the one “in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Colossians 2:3).