The book of Ecclesiastes has a long history of interpretation. On the one hand, it would be easy for some scholars to suggest that significant portions of the text are heretical. On the other hand, it might be tempting for conservative scholars to contort Qohelet’s words to align with orthodoxy. In light of these two risks, a historical, literary, theological, and thematic reading of Ecclesiastes 9:1-10 shows the coherence of a potentially unorthodox passage. First, the essay explores the book’s historical, literary, and theological contexts. Next, a brief exploration of genre analysis ensues, followed by a verse-by-verse commentary on Ecclesiastes 9:1-10. Finally, the essay concludes with a foray into a few intertextual connections alongside several critical biblical-theological implications.

Historical Context

Traditionally, interpreters have assigned authorship of the book of Ecclesiastes to Solomon; however, internal evidence suggests otherwise. The writer begins by stating, “The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem” (Qoh 1:1, English Standard Version). The writer continues by stating, “I have acquired great wisdom, surpassing all who were over Jerusalem before me” (Qoh 1:16).

The Book of Ecclesiastes: New International Commentary on the Old Testament (NICOT)

The only ruler before Solomon was David; thus, for Solomon to make such an assertion would seem odd. The question also arises as to why Solomon would refer to himself in the third person in the prologue and epilogue (1:1-11; 12:8-14).[1] The dating of Ecclesiastes provides insight into authorship. Tremper Longman explains that critical scholars have asserted a late date, possibly around the third century BC, due to its language and style, and they have argued that Ecclesiastes contained contradictions that required a later redaction in the epilogue.[2]

Although the necessity of a redactor is doubtful, a late date is reasonable. During the third century, Yahweh’s prophets seemed to have gone silent, and His promises seemed to have been in a state of uncertainty. Accordingly, various existential questions about life’s meaning may have been top of mind. More importantly, as Craig Bartholomew notes, an autonomous Greek epistemology under the influence of Hellenism during the third century likely infiltrated the cognitive environment in a  way that may have encouraged the writing of the book of Ecclesiastes.[3]

Assuming a third-century BC date, Solomonic authorship is out of the question. A brief excursion into the book’s literary structure furthers the discussion on authorship. The author writes the body of the text (1:12-12:7) in the first person and a framed narrative (1:1-11; 12:8-14) in the third person. Although a diachronic approach to authorship may conclude that redaction is necessary to correct Qohelet’s unorthodox and, some might say, heretical content, a synchronic approach provides other options. Considering the book’s content, the text’s unity comes to the fore. Bartholomew suggests the author is a frame-narrator who not only provides the prologue and epilogue in the third person but also transmits the story of an autobiographical account of a historical individual named Qohelet in the body of the book.[4] Bartholomew’s approach is not only reasonable in light of Ecclesiastes as a whole, but it also provides significant insight into reconciling what is, at times, Qohelet’s unorthodox message.

Literary Context

It is possible to correctly interpret Ecclesiastes 9:1-10 by placing it in the literary context of the passages that frame Qohelet’s speeches. The prologue consists of Ecclesiastes 1:1-11 and begins with a third-person reference to Qohelet, the Preacher, and it also introduces various thematic initiatives explored throughout the book. In Ecclesiastes 12:8-14, a brief epilogue reverts to the third person. It provides a summary and commentary on Qohelet’s speeches, which concludes with the most crucial verse in the book: “The end of the matter: all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man” (Eccl 12:13).

The prologue and epilogue sandwich Qohelet’s speeches; thus, the pericope under investigation must be interpreted in light of the framed narration. The Preacher’s speeches begin with an introduction in Ecclesiastes 1:12, “I the Preacher have been king over Israel in Jerusalem.” Then, the author bifurcates the speeches between an autobiographical narrative in 1:13-6:9 and a group of wisdom admonitions in 6:10-12:17. The former appears as reflections upon life. In contrast, the latter has more of a proverbial flavor. Ecclesiastes 9:1-10 lands within the second half of the speeches. Throughout the remainder of the essay, the literary context and, more specifically, the proverbial nature of Qohelet’s words placed within the frame narrator’s commentary will provide further insight into the passage’s meaning.

Theological Context

Scholars continue to debate the theological messaging of the book of Ecclesiastes. First and foremost, the interpreter must recognize that the author is asking the reader to join Qohelet on a journey that attempts to find meaning in life. On the one hand, it might be easy to assume that the tone of the Preacher’s message is pessimistic with his relentless use of hebel (e.g., Qoh 1:2, 14; 2:17; 12:8). Alternatively, the so-called carpe diem passages seem to point to a positive message (e.g., Qoh 3:12-13; 9:17-10). However, rather than being tyrannized by an either-or dichotomy, Bartholomew recognizes that the Preacher’s autonomous epistemology, which relies upon observation, experience, and reason, highlights his “struggle to live with and resolve the agonized tension between these two poles.”[5]

The existential struggle experienced by the Preacher leads to a seemingly hopeless existence. Longman summarizes the theological message of Qohelet’s autobiography in one short phrase: “Life is full of trouble, and then you die.”[6] In other words, the carpe diem passages encourage the reader to enjoy life while he can, for life is hebel, “The dead know nothing, and they have no more reward, for the memory of them is forgotten” (Qoh 9:5b). At this point, the literary structure provides insight because it is not Qohelet’s words, but, instead, the frame narrator’s words that provide normative theology. Similar to the suspicious teachings of Job’s three friends addressed at the book’s end, the frame narrator’s epilogue also provides insight. Michael Fox provides a relevant translation of Ecclesiastes 12:10 and 12:12 to highlight the point: “Qohelet sought to find fine words and to write the most honest words of truth,” but “my son, beware of these things,” and “fear God and keep his commandments.”[7] Within the epilogue, the interpreter recognizes that Qohelet’s words, like the advice of Job’s friends, are both a foil and a teaching device. The frame narrator realizes some truth in Qohelet’s teachings but tells his son to beware of Qohelet’s autonomous epistemology and, instead, recognize the reality of a God who knows much more than the human eye can see, life can experience, and the mind can grasp.

Genre Analysis

Genre identification can significantly impact interpretation. The following analysis of Ecclesiastes’ genre presupposes a synchronic approach that considers the text as a whole in light of its literary structure and theological motifs. Thus, much of the groundwork for identification has been laid, but this is not to say that scholarly consensus exists about the genre of Ecclesiastes. Various genres have been espoused, including a reflection,[8] critique,[9] or, more generally, wisdom literature.[10] However, based on the literary structure, the proverbial flavor of much of Qohelet’s content, the shifting from third person in the framed narration to the first person in Qohelet’s autobiographical speeches, and the overarching thematic initiative highlighting a journey toward finding meaning, it seems reasonable to conclude, alongside Longman, that the genre of the book of Ecclesiastes is a “framed wisdom autobiography.”[11] Accordingly, the remainder of the essay interprets the text through the lens of a framed wisdom autobiographical genre.

Commentary on Ecclesiastes 9:1-10

Ecclesiastes 9:1-10 is situated within the wisdom admonitions of Qohelet and is quite pessimistic. The Preacher begins by stating, “But all this I laid to heart, examining it all, how the righteous and wise and their deeds are in the hand of God. Whether it is love or hate, man does not know; both are before him” (Qoh 9:1). From the start, Qohelet engages the retributive paradox where sometimes, in laymen’s terms, bad things happen to good people. Unfortunately, sometimes the righteous suffer, and the wicked prosper. Within context, love and hate refer to God rather than humans.[12] Accordingly, the deeds of the righteous are within the purview of God’s sovereignty, but it is questionable whether or not the righteous will experience the hate or wrath of God or the love or favor of God. God’s people desperately want to believe that Proverbs 3:33 is accurate and that the Lord will always curse the wicked and bless the righteous. Although Proverbs 3:33 points to a general principle, this sentiment is not always true.

Qohelet recognizes that the righteous are not always blessed and the wicked are not always cursed, “It is the same for all, since the same event happens to the righteous and the wicked, to the good and the evil” (Qoh 9:2a). At this point, the Preacher lumps everyone into the same category by suggesting the clean and unclean, the one who sacrifices and the one who does not, the good and the sinner, the truth-teller and the liar are all similar. They all end up dead. As the epilogue suggests, the Preacher provides honest words of truth, but the listener must beware. Indeed, both the righteous and the wicked all die but beware of believing that doing good versus evil does not matter.

For Qohelet, the retributive paradox is almost too much to handle. The Preacher decides that death is evil for everyone by stating, “This [death] is an evil in all that is done under the sun” (Qoh 9:3a). The Preacher is likely referring to evil that has a moral dimension with his use of the word רַע; thus, death is not only morally corrupt, but all humanity is morally corrupt, and their fate is all the same: death. It appears the Preacher also accuses God of immorality for bringing death into the patterns of the universe.

The literary devices used in the next verse provide both color and meaning. It appears at first that the Preacher finally provides a respite of relief when he states, “But he who is joined with all the living has hope” (Qoh 9:4a). Unfortunately, the hope is fleeting as he continues his thought, “For a living dog is better than a dead lion” (Qoh 9:4b). The sarcasm is palpable. Longman explains that dogs, in the ancient Near Eastern culture, were despicable rather than modern friendly pets, and lions were considered noble beasts.[13] The Preacher’s suggestion that living like a despicable canine is better than being a dead, noble lion illuminates his false hope and provides little consolation.

Next, Qohelet explains the reason why such little hope exists. The Preacher believes that, although those who are still alive realize they will eventually die, “the dead know nothing, and they have no more reward” (Qoh 9:5a). The sarcasm continues to mount as Qohelet suggests that those living are better off than the dead because at least they are aware that death is on the horizon. Furthermore, the Preacher assumes there is no life after death, no rewards in heaven, and no hope of resurrection when he asserts that the dead “have no more reward” (Qoh 9:5). The dead are forgotten, which adds insult to injury. Finally, the good and the bad, the love and the hate, and any other emotions perish upon death and for all eternity (Qoh 9:6).

At this point, it would be tempting to assume that Qohelet is a heretic. However, the Preacher is precisely right. Everything the Preacher has said is correct for those living “under the sun” (Qoh 9:3a, 6b). Suppose life only exists under the sun, where an autonomous epistemology limits the individual to seeing only what is observed, believing what is experienced, and understanding what is reasoned. In that case, God appears immoral, everyone seems evil, and death appears to be the end. As the frame narrator explains, Qohelet provides much truth, but beware of that truth because life might be more than the truth that individuals can glean from observation, experience, and reason. The interpreter may now begin to perceive the gloomy reality experienced by so many people, to recognize the essential existential questions asked by the masses, and to understand the utter hopelessness of living with an under-the-sun perspective.

Qohelet now presents a significant shift. Two qal imperatives begin verse 7 and are jarring. The Preacher commands that the listener go and eat with enjoyment. In response to the hopelessness of death, the Preacher urges his fellow traveler to find pleasure in eating and drinking. Furthermore, Qohelet appears to communicate that God has sanctioned such pleasurable activity. Longman recognizes that such a straightforward interpretation has caused problems, and some have gone to great lengths to avoid the impression that God is approving unlimited licentiousness or a form of ancient antinomianism.[14] Importantly, this is the fifth of the carpe diem passages (cf. 2:24-26; 3:13-14; 5:18-20; 8:15). Within context, the Preacher is not providing new information but continuing his journey as he attempts to resolve the tension between the two poles of hebel and carpe diem. Once again, Qohelet discovers and communicates some essential truths. God’s creation is good. Life is short. Death will come soon, so enjoy God’s creative efforts, but beware, says the frame narrator in the epilogue; there is more to life than what is under the sun.

Qohelet continues his crusade for enjoyment through symbolic imagery, “Let your garments be always white. Let not oil be lacking on your head” (Qoh 9:8). Athalya Brenner provides insight into the symbolic meaning of white garments by explaining that they often represent both purity and festivity.[15] The meaning of oil makes sense within a broader canonical context. Although oil is a protective agent against the dry heat of Palestine, Bartholomew notes that oil is also often associated with joy in the Old Testament (cf. Ps 23:5; Isa 61:3).[16]

Another qal imperative demands that the reader enjoys life through a relationship with the opposite sex (Qoh 9:9). Interestingly, the lemma אִשָּׁה, which is translated as “wife” in the ESV, lacks a definite article, causing some to translate the term as a “woman” (e.g., New Living Translation). Regardless, the point is not about which woman to enjoy but the necessity of pursuing joy under the sun. The more significant point lands within the following adjectival phrase that describes the scope of enjoyment: “All the days of your vain (hebel) life that he has given you under the sun” (Qoh 9:9, ESV). One might as well enjoy life because life is hebel under the sun. The literary repetition of “under the sun” provides a crucial interpretive clue. The phrase refers to human activities in the world; everything under the sun is hebel (Qoh 1:14). In other words, everything in this world, although created good by God, is ultimately meaningless; it lacks. God is not hebel; God’s purposes are not hebel, but everything under the sun lacks meaning. Everything is lacking except God. Qohelet’s journey of frustration is an exposé on the lack of meaning under the sun. The frame narrator suggests that the only viable option is to fear God, stand in awe of one’s Creator, and obey the One who lacks the lack (Qoh 12:13).

In the final verse of the passage, the Preacher provides an exclamation point by reiterating that, in light of imminent death, one must live life to its fullest. It appears Qohelet has no conception of life after death since there is “no work or thought or knowledge or wisdom in Sheol” (Qoh 9:10). Accordingly, Longman suggests that the Preacher is providing a final appeal to his listener: “If you have a chance to do something, do it now, because who knows what the future will bring.”[17] In short, one cannot grasp life’s meaning with Qohelet’s under-the-sun perspective.

Intertextual Links and Thematic Correlation

Due to the genre of Ecclesiastes, Proverbs and Job provide the most reasonable Old Testament intertextual contexts. Regarding Proverbs, Leo Perdue suggests that Qohelet offers an alternative worldview to Proverbs and its “fixed connection between action and result.”[18] Perdue goes too far in his analysis. As Raymond Van Leeuwen asserts, Proverbs provides a general connection between righteous behavior and a better life rather than guaranteeing consequences.[19] Accordingly, Ecclesiastes is more appropriately interpreted as an extension of a reality that Proverbs does not deny.

Regarding Job, Longman recognizes that the shared structure between Job and Ecclesiastes requires similar readings since both books contain dubious teachings within the body, addressed toward the end of each book.[20] Finally, Bartholomew notes that another crucial intertextual issue is the relationship between wisdom and the law, especially in light of Ecclesiastes 12:13b.[21] It might be tempting to assume that the reference to fearing God and keeping His commandments is either out of place or a later suspicious redaction; however, in light of the overarching literary structure and context, such conjecture is not necessary.

Regarding New Testament intertextual connections, a critical allusion occurs in Romans 8:20, “For the creation was subjected to futility (μάταιος), not willingly, but because of him who subjected it.” The Septuagint translates hebel in Ecclesiastes 9:9 by utilizing the Greek term “μάταιος,” which is the same term the Apostle Paul uses in Romans 8:20 for the word “futility.” Paul appears to align with the message of Ecclesiastes by suggesting that life under the sun, apart from God, necessarily leaves all of creation in a futile, meaningless existence.

Finally, the intertextual connections provide a foundation for several thematic correlations and biblical-theological implications evidenced within the entire canon of Scripture. First, the central theme of Ecclesiastes is that life is meaningless under the sun. It would be difficult to find any segment of the canon that would suggest otherwise. Without God, life has no life. Second, the retributive paradox motif provides an important thematic initiative that encourages readers of Scripture to recognize the limitations of humanity’s understanding and the need to rely on God. Third, within some of Qohelet’s potentially unsettling statements, the Preacher provides sage advice to his listener. Living in the present moment, enjoying the life God created, and recognizing that life is not always fair are motifs that are not only recognized throughout the canon but also concepts that modern readers must embrace. Finally, as the frame narrator would affirm, fearing God and obeying His commands weaves its way through Scripture from Genesis to Revelation and ought to wind its way through every believer’s life.

Conclusion

The historical, literary, and theological contexts of Ecclesiastes 9:1-10 lay the foundation for the interpretive process. First, the historical context points to an author who writes both the first-person autobiographical passages and the third-person prologue and epilogue. The literary context places Ecclesiastes 9:1-10 within the proverbial section of the frame narrator’s book-ended message. The theological context aligns with the historical and literary context and highlights that Qohelet’s message is both a foil and a teaching device. The listener needs to recognize the truth in the Preacher’s message and beware of an autonomous epistemology that cannot see beyond a reality limited to life “under the sun.” Accordingly, it is reasonable to conclude that the genre of Ecclesiastes is a framed wisdom autobiography. The coherent message of the passage emerges when reading the text of Ecclesiastes 9:1-10 in light of its historical, literary, and theological contexts and genre. Qohelet’s journey under the sun results in the inevitable meaninglessness necessitated by a life of lack, for as the epilogue suggests, one can only find meaning by standing in awe of the Creator. Finally, several of Ecclesiastes’ biblical motifs are evident throughout the Old and New Testament canon, such as experiencing meaninglessness without God, addressing why the righteous sometimes suffer, living in the present, enjoying God’s creation, fearing God, and obeying God’s commands.

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[1] External evidence for authorship other than Solomon also exists. See Tremper Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes, The New International Commentary on the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 8, 15–20.

[2] Longman, 9–11.

[3] Craig G. Bartholomew, Ecclesiastes, ed. Tremper Longman, Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2014), 94–95.

[4] Bartholomew, 70, 76, 79. Note that Longman aligns with Bartholomew’s approach, except that Qohelet, in his perspective, is fictional. See Bartholomew, 70, and Longman, 18.

[5] Bartholomew, 93.

[6] Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes, 34.

[7] Michael V. Fox, “Frame-Narrative and Composition in the Book of Qohelet,” Hebrew Union College Annual 48 (1977): 96.

[8] See Roland Edmund Murphy, Ecclesiastes, ed. David Allen Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker, vol. 23A, Word Biblical Commentary (Zondervan Academic, 2018), xxxi.

[9] See Joseph Azize, “The Genre of Qohelet,” DavarLogos 2, no. 2 (2003): 123.

[10] See Thomas Krüger, Qoheleth: A Commentary on the Book of Qoheleth, ed. Klaus Baltzer (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004), 8.

[11] Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes, 17.

[12] Murphy, Ecclesiastes, 23A:90.

[13] Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes, 228.

[14] Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes, 229.

[15] Athalya Brenner, Colour Terms in the Old Testament (Sheffield: JSOT, 1982), 90.

[16] Bartholomew, Ecclesiastes, 304.

[17] Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes, 231.

[18] Leo G. Perdue, Wisdom & Creation: The Theology of Wisdom Literature (Nashville: Abingdon, 1992), 116.

[19] Raymond C Van Leeuwen, “Wealth and Poverty: System and Contradiction in Proverbs,” Hebrew Studies 33 (1992): 32–33.

[20] Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes, 37.

[21] Bartholomew, Ecclesiastes, 87.

Bibliography

• Azize, Joseph. “The Genre of Qohelet.” DavarLogos 2, no. 2 (2003): 123–38.
• Bartholomew, Craig G. Ecclesiastes. Edited by Tremper Longman. Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2014.
• Brenner, Athalya. Colour Terms in the Old Testament. Sheffield: JSOT, 1982.
• Fox, Michael V. “Frame-Narrative and Composition in the Book of Qohelet.” Hebrew Union College Annual 48 (1977): 83–106.
• Krüger, Thomas. Qoheleth: A Commentary on the Book of Qoheleth. Edited by Klaus Baltzer. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004.
• Longman, Tremper. The Book of Ecclesiastes. The New International Commentary on the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997.
• Murphy, Roland Edmund. Ecclesiastes. Edited by David Allen Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker. Vol. 23A. Word Biblical Commentary. Zondervan Academic, 2018.
• Perdue, Leo G. Wisdom & Creation: The Theology of Wisdom Literature. Nashville: Abingdon, 1992.
• Van Leeuwen, Raymond C. “Wealth and Poverty: System and Contradiction in Proverbs.” Hebrew Studies 33 (1992): 25–36.