Indeed, this is the כל־האדם

When I first began blogging, I hinted that I might explore the significance behind the title of my blog (pronounced kol-ha-adam for those less familiar with Hebrew). I figure I am long overdue for an explanation, so here it is. But before I begin, let me correct a simple homophonic mistake. My blog is entitled כל־האדם, (roughly) “all of man” or “every man,” not קל־האדם, the “voice of Adam.” The latter name I admit is much cooler, which is probably why I did not think of it when creating this blog. Kudos to Jim West who pointed this out to me at SBL.

The phrase כל־האדם occurs 12 times in 11 verses of the Hebrew Bible. Some of these function in a narrative context similar to our English word “everyone” (e.g. Exod 9:19; Num 16:32; Jos 11:14; Zech 8:10). Other uses tend to speak more abstractly about humanity. Take for example, the Psalmists assertion כל־האדם כזב “All mankind are liars” (116:11). The verses that employ the phrase in this way are the ones that have captured my attention and led me to deep reflection. What can be said that that can apply to כל־האדם? The psalmist would say “falsehood.” This is an assertion that I doubt the biblical sage Qohelet would have challenged, as he is not shy when it comes to identifying the moral failings of “everyone” (c.f. Eccl 7:20, 29). Interestingly enough Qohelet does make use of this phrase, though it is not in places where his speech is characteristically negative of humanity. Rather, Qohelet uses the phrase constructively:

ידעתי כי אין טוב בם כי אם־לשׁמוח ולעשׂות טוב בחייו׃

וגם כל־האדם שׁיאצל ושׁתה וראה טוב בכל־עמלו מתת אלהים היא׃

I know that there is nothing better for them than to rejoice and do good in their life;
moreover, that everyone should eat, drink, and find good in all their toil–this is a divine gift! (Eccl 3:12-13)

הנה אשׁר־ראיתי אני טוב אשׁר־יפה לאצול־ולשׁתות ולראות טובה בכל־עמלו שׁיעמל תחת־השׁמשׁ מספר ימי־חיו אשׁר־נתן־לו האלהים כצי־הוא חלקו׃

גם כל־האדם אשׁר נתן־לו האלהים עשׁר ונכסים והשׁליטו לאצל ממנו ולשׂאת את־חלקו ולשׂמח בעמלו זה מתת אלהים היא ׃

See! This I have seen is good and beautiful—to eat, drink, and to see good in all one’s toil which he toils under the sun during the days which God gives to him. This is his dividend. Moreover, all to whom God has given wealth and possessions and to whom he grants the opportunity to enjoy them, and to accept their dividend and to enjoy their toil– this is the gift of God. (Eccl 5:18-19 [Heb 17-18])

טוב ללצת אל־הית־אבל מלכת אל־בית משׁתה באשׁר הוא סוף כל־האדם והחי יתן אל־לבו ׃

It is better to go attend the house of mourning than to attend the house of feasting, for this is the end of every man and the living will take this to heart. (Eccl 7:2)

It is significant to Qohelet that death, above all, will ultimately interrupt and foil our attempts to produce an enduring significance (יתרון) from the toil of our lives, and as the latter verse suggests, Qohelet believes this is something that should be grappled with (c.f. Num 16:39; Jer 31:30). Instead of our toil producing enduring significance, we must be satisfied with our portion (חלק)–eating, drinking, actually enjoying our work–all of which he identifies as a divine gift. As those familiar with the ancient Near East might expect, this is not actually unique to Qohelet. Take for example the advice of Šiduri the alewife to Gilgameš:

You, Gilgameš, let your belly be full,

keep enjoying yourself, day and night!

Every day make merry,

dance and play day and night!

Let your clothes be clean!

Let you head be washed, may you be bathed in water!

Gaze on the little one who holds your hand!

Let a wife enjoy your repeated embrace!

Such is the  destiny [of mortal men,]

(Gilg. OB BA+BM iii, 6-14)

This advice reflects the kind of advice that Qohelet offers throughout the book of Ecclesiastes (2:24-26; 3:12-13; 3:22; 5:18-19; 8:15; 9:7-9; 11:8-10). In particular, I find the final line to reflect the use of כל־האדם in the book of Ecclesiastes. Šiduri’s advice is, at least in her mind, what constitutes the כל־האדם. But too much has been made of the correspondence between the Epic of Gilgameš and the book of Ecclesiastes (I may address this in a future post). This type of advice can be found throughout the ancient Near East. Take for example the Poem of Early Rulers as recorded in a text from Emar:

How is life without joy superior to death?

Man, I will truly . . . let you know your god.

Overthrow and drive out grief! Despise gloom!

As a substitute for a single day’s happiness can one pass 36,000 years in days of silence?

Like a . . . young man, Siraš is your pride and pleasure!

This is the true rule of mankind. (Lambert, 39-40)

Notice again the emphasis in the final line echoing the כל־האדם motif. The advice in this text relates to drinking (Siraš is a beer deity), advice that is not uncommon to Qohelet. In a Sumerian version of the Poem of Early Rulers, the parallel with Qohelet’s reflections about death is most striking:

Though one may seek life like (!) [Zi'usudra, death] is the lot of mankind. (Lambert, 40)

All of this is very interesting and should bear significantly on our understanding of Qohelet as an ancient Near Easter sage. But it is not Qohelet’s use of this after which the title of my blog is named. If anything, it is named after the challenge that the book of Ecclesiastes presents to people of faith in ascertaining what truly constitutes the כל־האדם. The epilogist, in spite of the fact that he finds Qohelet to be “wise” and to have written “uprightly, words of truth” (Eccl 12:9-10), reflects on Qohelet’s instruction and does completely agree with what Qohelet has concluded regarding this matter. He has the final word (סוף דברי), and his conclusion is thus:

את־האלהים ירא ואת־מצותיו שׁמור כי־זה כל־האדם׃

Fear God and keep his commandments. Indeed, this, is the כל־האדם. (Eccl 12:13)

(This translation comes from Peter Enns who first shaped my understanding of this concept; see reference below). What is interesting is that the Hebrew Bible does not actually provide a definitive answer as to what the כל־האדם ultimately is. Many interpreters, like myself, will be inclined to lean heavily toward the epilogist. For some, the epilogist completely trumps Qohelet’s message (i.e. Longman, 1997). But canonically this is not the case. While the epilogist is given pride of place, Qohelet is given greater space. Moreover, the way in which the wisdom of Israel (and certainly other traditions as well) appropriates wisdom (and other material) from the ancient Near East makes me hesitant to reject the idea that Qohelet’s more characteristically ancient Near Eastern wisdom could not be God’s wisdom revealed to nations outside of Israel. Ultimately, the canonical witness is variegated, and I believe it can be healthy for us to allow this tension to continue to exist.  Both Qohelet and the epilogist encourage us to reflect on the significance of human existence, and each provides a challenging yet constructive path forward.

If I have learned anything in my studies thus far, it is that challenging questions are often more valuable than simple answers, and that is the legacy of Ecclesiastes. It challenges me to think deeply about one of the most significant questions humanity faces. What is the כל־האדם? And it is here, in part, where I explore the answers to this question.

References

Enns, Peter. “כל־האדם and the Evaluation of Qohelet’s Wisdom in Qoh 12:13 or The ‘A is so, and What’s More, B’ Theology of Ecclesiastes.” In In The Idea of Biblical Interpretation: Essays in Honor of James L. Kugel, edited by Hindy Najman and Judith H. Newman, 125-37. Boston: Brill, 2004.

George, A. R. The Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic: Introduction, Critical Edition and Cuneiform Texts. 2 vols. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003.

Lambert, W. T. “Some New Babylonian Wisdom Literature.” In Wisdom in Ancient Israel: Essays in Honour of J. A. Emerton, edited by John Day, Robert P. Gordon, and H. G. M. Williamson, 30-42. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995.

Longman, Tremper. The Book of Ecclesiastes NICOT, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997

הבל as Metaphor

Something John Hobbins said in a recent post resonated with something I have been pondering recently.

Metaphors are semantically porous. They breathe in contextual meaning to an extent purely denotative terms do not. That being the case, the definition of κεφαλή as that which plays a leading role is a mere point of departure for an understanding of its meaning-in-context in 1 Cor 11 and Eph 1,4, and 5.

I have turned my thoughts again to the book of Ecclesiastes; it looks like my term paper in my Old Testament World class is going to interact with the literary/conceptual world of which this book is a part (Gilgamesh, The Oblinging Slave, etc.). One of the aspects I find most fascinating regarding Qohelet’s monologue is the way he makes use of the word הבל. We all know what הבל is. We see it every day in our own lives and in the lives of friends, family, and just about anyone we come in contact with. It is that thing that makes us declare (among other things) “That’s not fair!” or “That’s not right!”

What I find most peculiar is that so familiar a concept to us is so difficult to capture in our language; it is “imprehensible” as Seow would say.* Most translations recognize that this word is significant to Qohelet and should be translated consistently. The problem is, no English word stands a chance at doing justice to the word, something commentators frequently lament. The semantic fingerprint of הבל in Ecclesiastes is unparalleled in English. But I doubt that even the הבל denotes precisely all the semantic significance Qohelet would have it. And that is why I so appreciated what John had to say.  Again, “Metaphors are semantically porous. They breathe in contextual meaning to an extent purely denotative terms do not.” Thus, the word’s literal meaning–breath, wind, vapor–serves for Qohelet as a “mere point of departure for an understanding of its meaning-in-context in” Ecclesiastes. In other words, as often as Qohelet uses the word הבל to define particular situations, he can just as often be seen using situations to (re)define הבל.

I have come to hold the opinion that translators should abandon the quest to translate הבל and opt instead to transliterate it, baptizing it into English (much like the word baptism!).** In as much as Qohelet was using context to inform the meaning of this word, I think our translations should honor what Qohelet has done and allow us to learn the meaning of the word as any ancient reader would have—by seeing the word in action. A translation that fully captures the concept of which Qohelet speaks (were this even to be possible) has done more than Qohelet himself did in choosing to use the word הבל.

* “Throughout Ecclesiastes, then, one finds a picture of a world that is in every sense imprehensible—not apprehensible and/or not comprehensible. Nothing that human beings accomplish or possess or try to grapple with is ultimately within mortal grasp.” C. L. Seow, “Beyond Mortal Grasp: The Usage of Hebel in Ecclesiastes,” Australian Biblical Review 48 (2000): 15.

** A footnote should indicate the literal meanings of the word. The plural “meanings” precludes a parallel use of a literal English translation.

Ecclesiastes Introduction

I have been writing some short theological notes on Facebook as a way of representing the academic/vocational aspect of my life. Below is a note I posted recently on Ecclesiastes.

Ecclesiastes is a much neglected book of theology. Apart from a few pop cultural references and the oft quoted conclusion, little is actually done with the book as a whole. This is unfortunate because the book asks many of the challenging existential questions of our own day (i.e. what good is all the work I do from day to day?). These challenging questions introduce themes that develop throughout the book and do not allow the type of piecemeal reading of the book that is more typical and appropriate of the book of Proverbs. We would do well to read the book holistically, considering carefully the inner musings of the book’s main character, Qohelet. “The Preacher/Teacher” as (s)he is often rendered in translations, Qohelet is introduced by an unnamed narrator who returns at the conclusion of the book (12:9-14) to offer a final evaluation of all that Qohelet has said. This frame-narrator is the one to whom we should attribute authorship of the work as a whole. Thus, the famous conclusion to “fear God and keep his commandments” is not to be attributed to whomever we may identify with Qohelet.

The identity of Qohelet is the subject of much debate. Too often it is assumed that Qohelet is to be identified unequivocally as Solomon (based solely on 1:12-2:19); this identification ultimately will not do justice to the book of Ecclesiastes as a whole or to the theology of the Old Testament. First, the name Solomon is never used of Qohelet. In fact, Qohelet is not a title as our translations suggest (i.e. The Preacher/Teacher), it is the character’s name (and the name is not Solomon!). The name is a feminine participle, “one who assembles,” and likely plays off the image of Lady Wisdom in the book of Proverbs who assembles people to instruct them (Pro 1:20-33; 8:1-36; 9:1-12; cf. Eccl 12:9). This does not necessarily mean Qohelet is a female, as both masculine and feminine verbs are used in reference to the character (1:2-masculine; 7:27-feminine). Second, the identification of Solomon simply cannot be maintained throughout the entirety of the text. While 1:12-2:19 is certainly intended to reflect the character of Solomon, other passages like 4:1 reflect sentiments never shared by the Solomon we read about in the narrative literature of Israel. Oppression was characteristic of Solomon’s reign (1 Ki 12:1-4) and thus clearly not something he would have been powerless to reverse. The unquestionable allusion to Solomon at the outset of the book is an intentional literary move on the part of the author best understood in light of the central aim of the book (more on this below).

The motivating question of the book is set forth in 1:3, “What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?” In my own words: Is what I do from day to day meaningful in any real sense? Qohelet finds that true meaning is threatened by what he identifies as hevel. Qohelet’s unique use of the word hevel makes it notoriously difficult to translate. Attempts by modern translations to capture its meaning by “vanity” or “meaningless” are not just insufficient, they are misleading and counterproductive. The word is best left untranslated and its meaning should be derived from the variety of ways in which Qohelet makes use of it. While no English word captures the phenomenon of which Qohelet laments, I believe the slang phrase “shit happens” captures the essence of this phenomenon. While Qohelet conclusions regarding hevel and meaning may not satisfy the idealists of the world (Qohelet is often touted as a cynical wisdom teacher), his somber judgments about taking advantage of today elicits a very down-to-earth (under the sun?) approach to the ethical, moral, and otherwise religious spheres of life (Eccl 9:7-10).

So what does this have to do with Solomon? First, Solomon represents the wisdom tradition of Israel. The appeal to Israel’s most exalted wisdom teacher, Solomon, is likely to lend credence to the book. Second, the book sets forth an ambitious agenda: “What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun? . . . And I applied my heart to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven. It is an unhappy business that God has given to the children of man to be busy with” (Eccl 1:3, 13). Who is suited for this investigation? Qohelet, as Solomon the king, has unlimited funds, resources, authority, and time to carry out this investigation. Qohelet, as Solomon the wise man, has unsurpassed wisdom to use in his investigation. If anyone could provide an answer to this question, certainly it would be Solomon!? But Qohelet goes where Solomon could never go, and experiences life on the other end of the social spectrum as the book progresses (4:1). In the words of the apostle Paul, Qohelet has “become all things to all people that by all means [he] might [persuade] some” (1 Cor 9:22).

The narrator finds himself persuaded by much of what Qohelet has said (12:10). He does, however, offer a slight critique to what Qohelet calls the “whole [duty?] of man” (3:13, 5:18; 7:2). In light of hevel’s grip on the world around us, the foremost concerns of mankind are to be understood theologically: “Fear God and keep his commandments, indeed, this is the whole [duty] of man! For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil” (12:13-14).

More on The End of Wisdom?

In a previous post, I quoted from a recent review of Martin Shields’, The End of Wisdom: A Reappraisal of the Historical and Canonical Function of Ecclesiastes by Harold Washington. Anyone interested in the quote/review would probably be interested to know that Martin Shields has responded:

Washington here gets it partly right and partly wrong. First, he’s right to affirm Qohelet’s “self-critique,” for Qohelet highlights the failings and shortcomings of wisdom as well as its fragility — points which are affirmed in all the major commentaries.

But on another level he is wrong, for I am not arguing that the epilogist sought to neutralise Qohelet’s influence, for the epilogist concurs with Qohelet that speculative wisdom had failings and shortcomings and, appealing to him as the ultimate authority on wisdom, makes a case for a return to a more traditional form of wisdom founded upon the fear of Yahweh in conjunction with obedience to the Law. This is not wisdom imploding but wisdom reforming. Nor is this “Hebrew wisdom,” rather it is one part of Hebrew wisdom.

Be sure to read the entire response for yourself!

The End of Wisdom?

I love it when RBL has a review of a work on Ecclesiastes. Ecclesiastes is one area of biblical studies where I feel I have slightly more than an M.Div/pastoral level understanding of the text and the issues surrounding it. (In case you haven’t noticed, the title of this blog comes from epilogue of Ecclesiastes.) So when RBL reviews a work on Ecclesiastes, I get very excited.

This week we have a gem of a review. Harold Washington reviews Martin Shields’, The End of Wisdom: A Reappraisal of the Historical and Canonical Function of Ecclesiastes. I have not read Shields’ work, but I am familiar with the tradition of interpretation that is behind his reading of the text. I, like Washington, would place myself on the opposite side of the fence than Shields. So naturally, I loved the way Washington concluded his review:

Does Ecclesiastes display Hebrew wisdom in its worst moment, imploding for all to see? Or does Ecclesiastes represent the best qualities of the Hebrew wisdom literature: critical discernment, bracing honesty, above all persistent self-critique, a melding of integrity andhumility that, after all, is not so far from the genuine pieties inculcated elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible? I concur with the generations of readers, devout or skeptical, who have taken the latter option. If however, Shields is right, and the epilogist really did compose Ecclesiastes in an effort to neutralize Qoheleth’s influence, the rich reception history of Ecclesiastes gives a clear verdict: that effort was in vain.

Be sure to read the whole review for yourself!