JoEb
Yahweh’s Speeches. Finally, Yahweh appears to answer Job “from the whirlwind/tempest” (Job 38:1). To be clear, God presents himself, not as a friendly comforter, but as the overwhelming "God of the skies"—intimidating to any human. (Readers should recall what is at stake in this book: fearing God.) Given the protracted human debate, the reader is hopeful that God will now reveal some light. But two things quickly become apparent in the divine speeches. First, their content is about creation, not justice—the central theme of the debates. Second, their literary form is principally the rhetorical question. So while God reveals his majesty, he conceals more than he reveals. Nothing is said about righteousness and justice.
God interrogates Job about the structures of creation (Job 38) and mysterious animals (Job 39). He raises a series of rhetorical questions, sometimes with a sarcastic tone:
“Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Dress for action like a man; I will question you, and you make it known to me. “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements—surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone, when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy? (Job 38:2–7, ESV).
After two chapters of interrogation, Yahweh challenges Job to a legal contest. But he declines, saying that he will speak no further:
And the LORD said to Job: “Shall a faultfinder contend with the Almighty? He who argues with God, let him answer it.” Then Job answered the LORD and said: “Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth. I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but I will proceed no further” (Job 40:1–5, ESV).
But Yahweh is not finished with Job. He challenges Job to rule the world and then to rule Behemoth and Leviathan (Job 40–41).
Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind and said: “Dress for action like a man; I will question you, and you make it known to me. Will you even put me in the wrong? Will you condemn me that you may be in the right? Have you an arm like God, and can you thunder with a voice like his? “Adorn yourself with majesty and dignity; clothe yourself with glory and splendor. Pour out the overflowings of your anger, and look on everyone who is proud and abase him. Look on everyone who is proud and bring him low and tread down the wicked where they stand. Hide them all in the dust together; bind their faces in the world below. Then will I also acknowledge to you that your own right hand can save you (Job 40:6–14, ESV).
Finally, Job recants:
And Job answered Yahweh and said: “I know that you can do all things, and that no plan of yours can be thwarted…. I have told what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know…. By the hearing of the ear I had heard of you, but now my eye has seen you; therefore I recant, and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:1–6).
With those words the poetic section of the book ends. If the book itself had concluded here, we might have assumed that everything that Job had said was wrong, except perhaps this claim:
If one desired to contest with him in a lawsuit,
one could not answer him once in 1000 times.
If I summoned him, and he answered me,
I would not believe that he was listening to my voice.
Because with a whirlwind he would crush me,
and he would multiply my wounds without cause (Job 9:3, 16–17).
In other words, no human could take out to court and bring a lawsuit against him. A mortal could not hold God accountable.
But nothing could prepare the reader for the Yahwistic narrator’s reversal in the opening verse of the prose epilogue:
After Yahweh had spoken these words to Job, Yahweh said to Eliphaz the Temanite, “My anger burns against you and your two friends, for you have not spoken of me what is trustworthy, like my servant Job” (Job 42:7).
Immediately after Job recants in the poetic dialogues, Yahweh declares in the prose epilogue that Job has spoken of Yahweh what is trustworthy! He instructs the friends to offer sacrifice, and Job is to pray, that is, intercede, for them.
In the epilogue’s closing passage (Job 42:10–17) Yahweh restores Job’s fortune precisely twofold, including 14,000 sheep and 6000 camels. His second set of children, however, numbered the same as the first set: seven sons and three daughters. He saw his children to the fourth generation, and lived 140 years—double a blessed life span.
So how were Job’s words “trustworthy,” while his friends’ words were not? Ironically, the friends attempted to defend God by following the theology reflected in the book of Proverbs, but in their zeal to do so they pressed the logic of their theology too far. In the effort to teach children and disciples, the book of Proverbs uses “if …, then …” statements to teach the principle of just reward: if someone does certain acts, then certain consequences will result (If act → then consequence). But Job’s friends tried to reverse the arrows of logic: if someone experiences these calamities, then he/she must have made foolish/wicked choices (If cursed → then foolish/wicked). In logic, an “if” statement (protasis) and a “then” statement (apodosis) can be reversed only in “if and only if” statements.
The claims of the book of Proverbs are appropriate as pedagogy for promoting righteousness and teaching the young to make the best decisions. As noted in the previous Module, they present general observations and offer general conclusions, while some proverbs note there are exceptions to these rules. The disciples of the wisdom sages will have a greater chance of success if they make wise choices. But these pedagogical principles cannot be flipped as a means of judging someone’s character. Clearly factors other than the individual’s choices may have triggered the circumstances that befall them, whether they be beneficial or tragic. In the end the friends attempt at theodicy failed. The book of Job serves as a warning against presumptive judgment of other people.
To identify how Job’s words were “trustworthy” we must observe the principal literary genre by which he speaks, namely that of lament. The book of Psalms testifies to the legitimacy of lament speech to God. Sometimes Job complains bitterly to God, but as noted previously laments need not always be theologically correct to serve as speech that is acceptable to God. Moreover, Job insists on bringing his laments and his legal case directly to God himself.
In the end, the book of Job does not provide readers with a theodicy or answers to life’s big questions. It does not solve the problem of evil, when bad things happen to good people. But it does provide a means of coping when tragedy strikes unfairly, namely to lament before God and to seek an audience with him. Lament and protest, authenticity and honesty—these are the qualities that make Job words “trustworthy.”
Here we must return to the question of whether or not God could be held accountable to upholding justice and fair play. The poetic speeches seem to say, No. But the prose epilogue says, Yes. The disparity between the poetic divine speeches and the prose epilogue brings to light a key biblical tension, where God's accommodated revelation strains to disclose what is appropriate for human interaction with God. One’s theology must always be tempered with pastoral care.
In the whirlwind speeches why does God ignore the primary issues in the human debate, that of justice and retribution? And why does he never inform Job of his “wager” with the Accuser? Because the primary issue of the book of Job is stated in the heavenly council scene and ironically found in the mouth of the Accuser: “Does Job fear God for nothing?” (Job 1:9). According to the “ground rules” of the book, God cannot mention that he upholds justice or reward, otherwise Job would have reason to “fear God”! For Yahweh to succeed, Job must fear him without interest in reward or punishment. And Job can never know about this “test,” especially during the time of trial, but even afterwards because he would then have reason to fear God.
The book of Job is testimony that "fearing God" can persevere even when circumstances do not justify it. When Providence appears to fail and bad things happen to good people (and good things happen to bad people), there is still the possibility, even the necessity, of “fearing God” without interest in gaining reward or avoiding punishment. Pretending to have answers is to go the way of Job’s friends. Job, on the other hand, lamented and sought to have an audience with God. When life is unfair (to Israelites who are forced to live under Gentile empires, to parents who must bury their children, to women who are victims of violence), one can respond to disappointment with the shrug of indifference, by walking away with a sense of betrayal, or by holding on to God “kicking and screaming." This would be a profound message for the Israelites, especially in the hard times of the postexilic period.
Christian readers may not be comfortable with fearing God and prefer to talk about faith in God. But the theology of this book of the Bible is clear: God is king in heaven and creator of the world and its creatures—in all their wonder and complexity. We fear God, simply because he is God. As such, the appropriate human response is "fear," that is, awe and even a sense of holy dread (an attitude that the NT also endorses, Heb 12:28–29; Matt 10:28).
Ecclesiastes
Theme: Life “under the sun” appears to have no rhyme or reason, but we are to enjoy the gifts that God gives and fear him, for he will judge (somehow).
Date and Authorship. The author identifies himself as a royal “son of David” (Eccl 1:1, 12), but his reference to “all who were before me in [or “upon (the throne of)”] Jerusalem” (Eccl 1:16; 2:9) implies that several generations have passed since David. Linguistically, the Hebrew of Ecclesiastes is late postexilic (e.g., the relative pronoun, אֲשֶׁר is written as the prefix שֶׁ‑).
Genre. The book of Ecclesiastes contains a number of internal inconsistencies. For example, the pursuit of wisdom is a “striving after wind” (Eccl 1:17), yet wisdom does have value (Eccl 2:13; 12:11). The stillborn is better off than the prosperous man who cannot enjoy his prosperity (Eccl 6:3; cf. 4:2-3), but anything that lives is better than anything that dies (Eccl 9:4-5). Does the breath return to God? Ecclesiastes 3:18-21 and 12:7 contain contrary perspectives.
One possible explanation is that the book is an edited work, combining the thoughts of both an author and an editor. The exclamations, ’Vanity of vanities,’ says the Preacher, ‘all is vanity!’” (Eccl 1:2; 12:8), serve as bookends, perhaps marking the bounds of Qoheleth’s own work. Ecclesiastes 12:9–14, which refers to Qoheleth in the third person, reads as the editor’s epilogue. The injunction, “fear God and keep his commandments” (Eccl 12:13–14), echoes phrases that are distinctively Deuteronomic (Deut 5:29; 6:2; 8:6; 13:4). It is also possible that the editor’s imprint can also be found within the body of the book.
Another explanation, which may complement the first, is that the body of Qoheleth’s work is a kind of journal. The book may have been a diary in which verses were simply added over the days. Earlier entries were corrected by later ones but left unchanged. Thus, Qoheleth may not have known his conclusion or overarching theme for the book as he wrote each part. The book could represent Qoheleth’s own debate with himself (“torn between what he cannot help seeing and what he still cannot help believing,” Kidner, 91). Transitional phrases support this view. “Then I...” (Heb. “And I (thought) ...”) (Eccl 1:17; 2:12, 15; 3:16, 17, 18; 4:1, etc.). Some portions reflect an inner debate between belief versus experience:
Moreover, I saw under the sun that in the place of justice, even there was wickedness, and in the place of righteousness, even there was wickedness. I said in my heart, God will judge the righteous and the wicked, for there is a time for every matter and for every work (Eccl 3:16–17).
Because the sentence against an evil deed is not executed speedily, the heart of the children of man is fully set to do evil. Though a sinner does evil a hundred times and prolongs his life, yet I know that it will be well with those who fear God, because they fear before him. But it will not be well with the wicked, neither will he prolong his days like a shadow, because he does not fear before God (Eccl 8:11–13).
Another explanation, which may complement the first two, is that the book contains citations of traditional proverbs, juxtaposed by Qoheleth’s reflections. According to the postscript, Qoheleth had “arranged in order” (תקן) many proverbs (Eccl 12:9). Thus, we should not expect the verses to flow as they might from a single author following a single train of thought. Transitions will be lacking. Qoheleth quotes traditional expressions. He then either upholds them, refutes them with his own claims, or reinterprets them by applying an ironic twist. Qoheleth may be teasing us. Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 sounds like quoted material (its poetic style may point to this), upon which Qoheleth comments in Eccl 3:9-14 (note esp. Eccl 3:11). The following passage may initially quote a traditional proverb which is followed by Qoheleth’s own reversals.
A good name is better than precious ointment,
and the day of death than the day of birth.
It is better to go to the house of mourning
than to go to the house of feasting,
for this is the end of all mankind,
and the living will lay it to heart.
Sorrow is better than laughter,
for by sadness of face the heart is made glad (Eccl 7:1–3, ESV).
The opening line sounds like a traditional proverb, one similar to Proverbs 22:1. The portions in italics may be Qoheleth's own reversals with a kind of ironic twist. The two subsequent "for" statements present his reasons for the reversals, the second of which is contrary to Proverbs 15:13.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 similarly sounds like a combination of popular proverbs on friendship, to which Qoheleth has added to his reflections on the vanity of work without having someone to share its fruits with (Eccl 4:7-8).
In this respect, Qoheleth may be qualifying traditional wisdom: proverbs that might be taken as absolute statements should, in fact, be interpreted as relative statements. An absolute-sounding statement is made but later statements show it to be valid only from a certain perspective. Qoheleth shows us that other data and viewpoints need to be considered. He thus gives us a realistic picture of life’s ambiguities. Often Qoheleth comes to a positive conclusion, only to then show its downside. For example, wisdom better than folly, but both lead to the same fate (Eccl 2:12-16).
The message of the book. “Vanity”? First, we must be clear on two key terms in the book. The word usually translated, “vanity” (hebel) literally means “breath, vapor.” Its derived meanings refer to “what is evanescent, unsubstantial, or nothing.” Elsewhere in the OT, it is thus used of idols, false gods, or “vain” help or discussions. Its particular usage in Ecclesiastes is clarified by an adjoining phrase: “striving after wind” (Eccl 1:14; 2:11, 17, 26; 4:4, 6; 6:9). As breath and wind are real, but elusive, hebel likely does not denote something like “vanity, worthlessness, meaninglessness, futility,” but rather something that is ungraspable, intangible, an delusive. Our explanations of life are elusive/unsubstantial. Life is a mystery, an enigma. In other words, Qoheleth is not an existential nihilist, but an agnostic. He is not commenting on existence per se, but epistemology.
The antonym of “breath” is often translated “profit” (יִתְרוֹן, יוֹתֵר, “what remains, outcome, profit, gain; advantage”). The first term occurs only in Ecclesiastes (10 times evenly dispersed), and the second, with one exception (Est 6:6), occurs only in Eccl (seven times evenly dispersed). Qoheleth’s ultimate quest is thus to move from the intangible to more substantial answers to the meaning of life.
“Under the sun” life is elusive. Qoheleth, the “Teacher,” takes us through his search for the meaning of life (Eccl 1:12–13). He opens and closes with this conclusion, “‘Breath! Breath!’ says Qoheleth. Everything is breath!’” (Eccl 1:2; 12:8). But the horizons of his investigation must be noted: “under the sun” (Eccl 1:3; 29 times in 27 verses), a perspective is similar to what we would call secularist. Nature and history appear to be a closed system of endless cycles (Eccl 1:3-11). He engages in three experiments. His pursuits of wisdom (Eccl 1:12-18), pleasures (Eccl 2:1-11), and labor (Eccl 2:17-23) all lead to this same conclusion. Throughout the book he shows that life appears vain because, (a) no matter what our efforts in life have been, we all end up at death (Eccl 2:16; 9:2–3); (b) evil and unjust retribution (Eccl 4:3; 7:15; 8:14); (c) so much of life is up to the whim of chance (Eccl 9:11–12).
In Ecclesiastes 3:9-14 the key problem and its partial solution can be seen. God has put eternity in the human heart, but they cannot fathom it. They can only revere God (Eccl 3:14) and be content with what God gives (on this latter point see further Eccl 5:18-20; 9:9-10; also Eccl 2:24-26; 3:12-13, 22; 8:15).
A chief aim of Eccl is to get the readers to take off their rose-colored spectacles of piety and be realistic. Looking at life “under the sun” forces one to see that life is full of anomalies and injustices and to admit that we cannot put it all together. We are forced to face the utter limitations of our own wisdom to find the rhyme and reason of life. Instead, we are to enjoy contentment with the good gifts that God gives (see the parts of the outline in boldface type).
Once Qoheleth has overwhelmed his reader with the despair of ever finding hope “under the sun,” his editor closes with what must be regarded as the only source of hope: God. “Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment ...” (Eccl 12:13-14, a conclusion is foreshadowed in Eccl 8:12). Humans must despair of ever achieving a system of wisdom that answers all of life’s questions, and we must resign themselves to “the whole duty of man”—this and nothing more—”fear God and keep his commandments” (Eccl 12:13).
One might be inclined to think of Ecclesiastes as reflecting purely intellectual interests, but in some respects it is perhaps the strongest appeal for the necessity of faith in the Bible. The world itself does not give us reasons to believe life has meaning. A purely rational basis for faith cannot be found. Qoheleth presents us with the enormous gap between a just and meaningful world and a just and meaningful God. Faith is not self-evident. The pursuit of wisdom itself does not lead us to God; we must rely on his revealed commandments and on his character to “bring every deed into judgment” (Eccl 12:14).
Wisdom, though limited, does have value. But Qoheleth is not therefore an advocate of anti-intellectual faith. Pursuit of wisdom does have value and benefits in itself (see, e.g., Eccl 2:13; 4:4-6; 12:11), but we must also recognize our limitations to grasp its total measure. If we simply buy into his conclusion on “the whole duty of man” without walking with him through his search, if we do not feel his frustration, we would lose touch with reality and we would lose a sense of the prize that God’s revealed commandments are. The search is necessary to appreciate the conclusion.
Qoheleth’s conclusion is similar to the one in Job’s “hymn to wisdom” in Job 28. Although humankind can tunnel to the depths of the earth, we cannot find wisdom. Only God can. In the context of the book of Job this “wisdom” must include answers to tough questions that he and his “comforters” are trying to answer, such as why does Job suffer. But the wisdom that God commits to humankind is simply, “The fear of the Lord—that is wisdom, and to shun evil is understanding” (Job 28:28). This “wisdom” does not answer the big questions, but God considers it sufficient for us to live by. Ultimate Wisdom is unattainable, but the wisdom God gives us is to fear him.
As Derek Kidner said so well, “Triviality is more stifling than tragedy, and the shrug is the most hopeless of all comments on life. The function of Ecclesiastes is to bring us to the point where we begin to fear that such a comment is the only honest one. So it is, if everything is dying. We face the appalling inference that nothing has meaning, nothing matters under the sun. It is then that we can hear, as the good news which it is, that everything matters—’for God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil’ [12:14]” (A Time to Mourn, and a Time to Dance [IVP, 1976] 20). (See also J.I. Packer, Knowing God, chap 10.)