NOTES for Ecc 7:19

From chapter 7 onwards, Ecclesiastes speaks of what he sees as foreshadowings, pale likenesses of that highest good which, as he has discovered, is beyond human reach. Everything discussed in the second half of the book is designated as טוב tov: wisdom and moderation, piety and justice. There is no true happiness in this—יתרון, ithron—but, in Ecclesiastes' view, a person nevertheless finds something resembling it. In relative and short-lived everyday well-being, one senses a foreshadowing of the blessedness of the Gospel, and this gives the elusive and imperfect good of this passing life at least some value.

In content and literary form, chapter seven is very close to other works of the ‘sages of Israel’. It contains a series of aphoristic sayings, not closely connected with one another. The chief distinguishing feature of all the thoughts that make up the chapter is the relative nature of what is good. In the preceding chapters, Ecclesiastes concludes that everything in the world is vanity and that nothing earthly can satisfy the human soul. Yet within this earthly vanity he carefully distinguishes good from bad, even if these can only be called ‘better’ and ‘worse’. ‘A good name is better than precious ointment’—the chapter's opening line gives a vivid example.

Beyond this, however, chapter seven contains several sayings that reveal to the reader what Ecclesiastes knows and thinks about God. The most enigmatic is Eccl. 7:14: ‘In days of prosperity enjoy the good, and in days of adversity reflect: God has made both, so that a person may say nothing against him’, as the Russian Synodal translation renders it. Other renderings of the phrase's final words include ‘God has made both, so that a person cannot comprehend his works’ and ‘so that a person may say nothing after himself’. The Slavonic translation, blindly copying the Septuagint, says here, ‘God made this concerning speech, that a person might find nothing after him’; the Septuagint itself, in the words ‘peri lalias, ina me euri ho antropos opiso autou meden’, means ‘God made everything thus, so that a person could say nothing after him’. The Vulgate offers the reading ‘sic et illam fecit Deus ut non inveniat homo contra eum iustas querimonias’: ‘God made both in such a way that a person might find no just complaint against him.’ European translations prefer ‘so that a person does not know what will come afterwards’. Thus two interpretations are possible: a) God created prosperity and adversity so that a person could not know their future; and b) God created prosperity and adversity so that a person could not murmur against him. In either case, Ecclesiastes speaks of human humility before the will of the Creator, who sends both good and misfortune. This viewpoint is characteristic of the ‘sages of Israel’, and indeed of the Old Testament as a whole. Only the prophets see it somewhat differently, considering misfortune the fruit of people's own thoughts in a world ordered according to the Creator's good Law (cf. Jer. 6:19). What matters is that this pessimistic position forms the milieu in which Christ's momentous revelation will be heard: ‘Fear not, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the Kingdom’ (Luke 12:32).

Then, in verse 20, within the context of his inquiry, Ecclesiastes reminds the reader of the important thought that ‘there is no righteous person on earth who does good and does not sin’. For the author, this grounds the call, on the one hand, not to depend on human opinions and judgements and, on the other, to refrain from the condemnation that Christ the Saviour will forbid. But the assertion is also very important in itself: forgetting it leads a person into Pharisaic self-satisfaction.

The closing phrase of chapter 7 is exceptionally important for the biblical understanding of humanity. Ecclesiastes, like many other biblical authors, says that God created humanity righteous—literally upright, straight. Responsibility for sin therefore rests with human beings themselves: they themselves destroy that original righteousness, or uprightness. The similarity between this phrase and the last phrase of the chapter's first, poetic part is striking: ‘Who can straighten what he has made crooked?’ (Eccl. 7:13). Through this contrast, Ecclesiastes emphasises once again that God did not create sin, but that human beings themselves are guilty of it. The meaning of the final phrase, which the Synodal translation, like the Slavonic text, copies from the Septuagint, can be expressed thus: ‘Humanity seeks too many inventions’—or, in Ecclesiastes' familiar words, chases the wind.

Clearly, in his search for wisdom Ecclesiastes turned more than once to the tradition reflected in the writings of the ancient sages. It was precisely in them that he found mentions, for example, that the day of death is better than the day of birth (v. 1), that sorrow is better than laughter (vv. 3-4), or of being in the house of the dead (v. 2). The ancient sages also said much about the benefit of patience, the harm of anger (vv. 8-9), the benefit of wisdom (vv. 11-12), and the instruction received from a wise person (vv. 5-6).

But all these unquestionably true and profound aphorisms did not answer the main question: what is the meaning of wisdom if, even after making a person righteous, it does not allow righteousness to triumph over the evil in which the world lies (v. 15)? For with all his wisdom a person cannot straighten what God, in the words of Ecclesiastes, has "made crooked" (v. 13). And if that is so, reality can only be accepted as it is, for it will never change and become either better or worse. If it sometimes seems to someone that "things were better before," that is a mistake (v. 10). And what remains for a person is only to rejoice in the good things that fall to his lot from God, and in days of adversity to give himself to reflection on the reversals of fate and the inconstancy of human happiness (v. 14).

It is no wonder that Ecclesiastes does not expect too much demandingness from the wise person, either toward himself or toward others: for a person is still powerless to change either himself or others; in such a case maximalism can only do harm, and harm above all the one who possesses it (v. 16). In fact, it is not hard to imagine the reaction to excessive demands from people who know in advance that these demands cannot be fulfilled. According to Ecclesiastes, it will be quite enough if a person's wisdom can keep him from a sinful life leading to destruction (v. 17).

This middle path, clearly, seemed optimal to Ecclesiastes (v. 18). He, like many before him, understands perfectly well that human nature is spoiled; a person is born in such a way that it is impossible for him not to sin (v. 20). And therefore Ecclesiastes proposes treating the sins and mistakes of others with tolerance: for one way or another everyone has to sin, and therefore it is not worth drawing excessive attention to another person's sins, otherwise someone will surely be found who, with malicious joy, points out the sins of the accuser himself (vv. 21-22). But, clearly, proclaiming principles proved much easier than following them (v. 23). The source of evil is hidden in the corruption of human nature: God conceived and created the human being, in the words of Ecclesiastes, "straight" ("upright"), inwardly whole and capable of righteousness, while the human being, by his own will, neglecting this gift, chooses his own ways ("devices") (v. 29).