Ecclesiastes: The JPS Bible Commentary

by Michael V. Fox

The Jewish Publication Society, Philadelphia, 2004. 87 pp. $34.95 (cloth). ISBN 0-8276-0742-3.

Like others in this series, the commentary by Michael V. Fox is written for the general public. It consists of a brief introduction, both to the biblical book and to some of its “major” interpreters, the commentary, and explanatory notes. Christian readers will be especially interested in the succinct characterizations of traditional Jewish commentaries by Abraham ibn Ezra, RASHBAM (Rabbi Samuel ben Meir), Samuel ben Judah ibn Tibbon, Moses Alsheikh, Moses Mendelssohn, and SHADAL (Samuel David Luzzatto). They may be somewhat puzzled by the choice of “contemporary” interpretations (Barton, Ginsberg, Hengel, Murphy, Seow, and Fox). Surely, Robert Gordis has earned at least honorable mention in this list, to name only one prominent interpreter. Perhaps, however, Fox merely intends to comment on a variety of interpretations. The rationale for the selection is by no means obvious, in any event.

Anyone familiar with modern scholarship on Qoheleth knows that Michael Fox has made a substantial contribution, first with his emphasis on the contradictions within the biblical sage’s teachings, and second with his innovative hypothesis that a narrator has framed Qoheleth’s teachings as that of another subject from whom he distances himself in the end. Moreover, Fox has rigorously insisted that Qoheleth’s teaching is radically empirical, that is, grounded in personal experience rather than revelation or tradition. A consequence of such empiricism, Fox argues, is inconsistency, specifically contradictory views within the book, for life seldom resolves the incongruities we encounter.

Every interpreter of Qoheleth, Fox writes, must give an answer to three questions: what is he negating or complaining about, what does he affirm or recommend, and what are his underlying reasons for each? Qohelth’s primary complaint, according to Fox, is the irrationality of the universe; his chief recommendation is to have pleasure insofar as possible; and his reason seems to be that death renders null and void every effort to achieve profit, making the present moment crucial.

Qoheleth’s investigative procedure resembles philosophy, according to Fox, specifically the use of reason alone to arrive at truth. Accepting no external rules, Qoheleth appeals to no tradition as binding, and refers to no insight that derives from revelation. Instead, he bases his conclusions on personal experience and his own skill at synthesis. I have elsewhere expressed reservations about this emphasis on empirical truth, for Qoheleth says much about God that has no foundation in daily experience (“Qoheleth’s Understanding of Intellectual Inquiry,” pp. 205–24 in Qohelet in the Context of Wisdom, ed. A. Schoors [Leuven: University Press, 1998]). At most, one can say that Qoheleth deduced all kinds of things about a deity from reality itself.

Perhaps that deductive process explains Fox’s insistence that Qoheleth believed in divine justice in spite of contravening evidence in daily life. Ever opposed to designating any outright contradictory statement as a pious correction of unorthodox views, Fox is left with opposing assertions and denials side by side. Still, one must surely ask: Is it likely that anyone would leave such a conflicting message? Over time, and in discrete contexts, probably, but it is highly unlikely that Qoheleth uttered such contradictions in one and the same breath. A better solution, in my judgment, is to posit an orthodox gloss. Given the clear presence of such glosses in other canonical texts, and the controversial nature of Qoheleth’s teachings, this hypothesis has a high degree of probability. That claim stands even if one accepts Fox’s theory about the framing narrator, which is itself problematized by two epilogues.

Although denying that an orthodox glossator has touched up Qoheleth’s teaching, Fox does not hesitate when it comes to emending the text. He proposes changes in nine instances. Astonishingly, he views 2:3 “and to grasp folly” as a possible pious interpolation. The difficult h‘lm (eternity) in 3:11 is rendered h‘ml (toil). In 7:19 “ten” becomes “wealth,” and in 7:28 ’a5πer (“who”) is altered to ’iπâ (“woman”); in 8:8 reπa‘ (“wickedness”) becomes ‘o3πer (“wealth”), and in 8:12 me5’at (“hundred”) is changed to me3’a3z (“from of old”). The change in 9:2 of hakko3l to hebel and a different division of verses is definitely an improvement over traditional readings, as many critics have observed.

Qoheleth’s understanding of God has already been hinted at above. Fox writes that Qoheleth describes the deity as powerful, unpredictable, autocratic, dangerous, distant, cold but not hostile, even if at times perverse (3:10–11; 6:2; 7:14). Nevertheless, Fox believes, Qoheleth ascribes justice to God in the face of its many failures, projecting that justice into the future (3:17; 11:9b). That claim in no way accords with Fox’s insistence on an empirical basis for Qoheleth’s views, for what experience would confirm such theological dogma?
Not only did Qoheleth reflect on the deity; he was also remarkably self-reflective. Fox detects an emerging self-consciousness, one in which Qoheleth initially recoils from his discoveries and hates life but over time reconciles himself to disappointments to the point that he commends pleasure. The latter advice is offered, even though Qoheleth conceded that distractions did not work for him (6:19). Fox even thinks that Qoheleth engaged in self-directed irony when posing the rhetorical question, “who knows what is good for a person... ?” (6:12) and when reflecting on woman as a threat in 7:29, indicating that his calculations have failed miserably. Similarly, Fox lists 8:17 as self-directed irony, although that text is usually taken as criticism of sapiential optimism. Above all, Fox contends, Qoheleth exhibits a unity of consciousness unlike any other sage. It could be argued that Ben Sira rivals Qoheleth in this regard, for his ego surfaces again and again in his teachings.

The similarities between Qoheleth’s teachings and Stoic philosophy have been noted before, and Fox joins those who see close resemblances here. He writes: “the only realm of freedom and control is the human heart—the realm of emotions, thoughts, and attitudes. We are to enjoy whatever pleasures that God makes possible and avoid whatever sorrow we can look away from. This, we may note, is Stoic doctrine” (p. xxxi). He does not link the catalogue of times in 3:1–8 with Stoicism (cf. Joseph Blenkinsopp, “Ecclesiastes 3:1–15, Another Interpretation,” JSOT 66 [1995]: 55–64). In discussing the catalogue, Fox inadvertently misconstrues the Hebrew word he3pes@ for ma‘a5seh in 3:1, a rare mistake for such a meticulous scholar.

Does Qoheleth offer positive counsel? Fox thinks he does, and he considers the admonition to find pleasure the heart of Qoheleth’s advice. Whoever coined the inclusion in 1:8 and 12:8 did not think so, nor do the addenda to the exhortations, which stress life’s transitory nature and absurdity, confirm Fox’s claim. I doubt, too, that Qoheleth thought the wise knew when to act, which requires a rational universe. In point of fact, he decried the unpredictability of all things, even though warning against outright offense of the deity.

These minor disagreements with Fox’s conclusions pale when compared with our agreements, even on controversial matters: that h@okma< (“wisdom”) is not inherently ethical; that ‘nh in 3:10 probably means afflict; that wisdom’s success brings chagrin; that some things are worthwhile even without yielding permanent profit; that the book has no discernible structure; that it dates from the third century; that its vocabulary and syntax are idiosyncratic; that nitenu< in 12:11 means “affixed”; and that there remain some unresolved issues, among which are 4:17, “they do not know to do wrong” and 5:8, “and the advantage of a land in all (regards?) is a king for a cultivated field.”

To sum up, Fox has put his own stellar insights about Qoheleth into the hands of the general public. In him, they have an able guide.

James L. Crenshaw
Duke University
Durham, North Carolina

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1 Peter, Jude and 2 Peter

by Donald P. Senior, C. P. and Daniel J. Harrington, S. J.

Sacra Pagina, 15. Liturgical, Collegeville, 2003. 315 pp. $39.95 (cloth). ISBN 0-8146-5817-2.

The two authors of this work are veteran Roman Catholic exegetes with impressive publishing records. Senior, President of the Catholic Theological Union, Chicago, is also editor of the excellent parish-oriented journal, The Bible Today and a member of the Pontifical Biblical Commission. Harrington, general editor of the Sacra Pagina Series, is also editor of the indispensable New Testament Abstracts. The books on which they comment have not been particular focuses of their research, although Senior did write an earlier brief commentary on 1 Peter in a series published by Michael Glazier, The New Testament Message, in 1980. Both, however, are exceptionally widely-read scholars whose perceptions of cogent argument are particularly acute, and whose abilities at distillation and summarization are justly acclaimed. In regard to 1 and 2 Peter and Jude, they are less interested in describing the scholarly debates on these writings than in the reliable conclusions of scholarship. The format of the exposition of all three books is the same: introductions to general features of the writings and the circumstances of their composition are followed by treatment of the content unit by unit, in each case attending first to exegetical details and then providing a broad summary of the main theological points. Four indices conclude the volume.

In his commentary on 1 Peter, Senior relies heavily on the recent commentaries of Paul Achtemeier (1 Peter, Hermeneia [Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996] and John H. Elliott (1 Peter, AB 37B [New York: Doubleday, 2000]). His treatment of introductory matters (pp. 3–23) is all but identical to the positions of Achtemeier and Elliott, who themselves are in close agreement and critical of much earlier scholarship. This integral letter (not a composite writing or reformulation of a baptismal homily or liturgy) was a pseudonymous writing written in the name and authority of the great apostle Peter and perhaps originated in a Petrine group in Rome (signified by “Babylon,” 5:13) to which Silvanus, the courier of the letter, and Mark, Peter’s associate, also belonged (5:12–13). The letter is addressed to dispersed communities in Northern and Western Asia Minor experiencing suffering as a result of harrassment, slander and insult for their commitment to God and Jesus Christ. Its aim was “both to give a confident witness to Christian faith in the risen and exalted Christ and, through that witness, to encourage Christian communities under siege” (p. 12).

The powerful message of this consoling and encouraging pastoral letter comes alive on every page. I wish Senior had striven for consistency in his translation of the key terms paroikia (“exile,” 1:17), paroikoi (“strangers,” 2:11), and parepide3moi (“sojourners,” 1:1; 2:11). Moreover, taking them as metaphors rather than as indicators of the actual precarious social status of his targeted audience, he makes no connection between the plight of the addressed paroikoi as resident aliens and the assurance 1 Peter offers that they can remain as paroikoi in society because through faith they belong to the household and family (oikos) of God—a key linguistic, social, and theological correlation of the letter. This correlation could have been made more evident if Senior had discussed more fully the central role that oikos as “household/family” of God plays in 1 Peter as chief ecclesial metaphor for the believing community. On the whole, however, in his treatment of what he rightly calls “one of the New Testament’s most eloquent and theologically rich books” (p. 3), Senior graces us with a commentary rich in exegetical insight, theological depth, and spiritual nourishment. Pastors and teachers, along with the general reading public, will find here much excellent food for thought.

Harrington’s commentary on Jude and 2 Peter draws heavily on the work of Richard Bauckham (Jude, 2 Peter. WBC, 50 [Waco: Word Books, 1983]). The close proximity of Jude and 2 Peter, as shown by their common vocabulary, identical formulations, similar crises and moral focus is best explained, according to Harrington, by postulating 2 Peter’s use, modification, and expansion of Jude. The epistle of Jude itself was, Harrington posits, pseudonymous and “written in the name of Jude the Lord’s brother,” with possible “historical connections to Jude, James, and [the rest of] the family of Jesus” (p. 183). Resembling a Jewish sermon and composed between 80 and 120 c.e. in either Palestine, Syria or Asia Minor, its aim was to warn its readers about the moral and spiritual dangers posed by immoral believers who had recently infiltrated the community, and to urge the readers to contend vigorously for the faith.

Second Peter appears to be “a testament set within an epistolary framework” (p. 229) in which the apostle Peter, the purported but not actual author, warns readers prior to his death of the coming of false teachers, gross immorality and skepticism concerning the Lord’s return. It was written by a “Hellenized Jewish Christian” probably at Rome sometime in the late first or early second century c.e. (pp. 235–36). Its use of Jude included reproduction of the bulk of Jude’s content (Jude 6–18) and moral focus, omission of Jude’s references to extra-canonical works, and additions from the material in Jude 1 and 3. The letter combines moral exhortation, polemical warning against Christian false teachers and skeptics, and a positive ideal for living a Christian life. It “prescribes a balance between eschatological hope and ethical action” (p. 233). Couched in the literary garb of pompous rhetorical style and vocabulary rare in the New Testament, the message of 2 Peter expresses “a somewhat traditional Jewish Christianity” emphasizing eschatological consciousness and ethical seriousness (p. 237). Or one could say, into an embossed Greek envelope the author has packed a rousing version of “Gimme that Ol’ Time Religion” (see John H. Elliott, “Peter, Second Epistle!.” ABD, vol 5, 282–87).

Providing only one volume for the treatment of three controverted New Testament writings has placed Senior and Harrington under serious space constraints. Readers will have to turn to the commentaries on which they depended for fuller discussions of issues and topics such as the portrait of Peter and the history of Petrine tradition in the early Church, 1 Peter 2:4–10 as biblical locus of the doctrine of the universal priesthood, the status and role of women in the Church and society, the Enochic and Flood traditions behind 1 Pet 3:19–20, the history of the term “Christian,” presbyteral leadership in formative Christianity, the cultural environment of 2 Peter and the likely Epicurean background to the skepticism concerning post-mortem retribution which the letter combats. Within their limits, however, both commentators have offered expositions reflecting “sound critical analysis” and “sensitivity to religious meaning”—the goal of this series. They help us see not only the original but also the lasting significance of these writings while providing a reliable guide to the exegetical issues, the scholarly literature, and the potential in these texts for powerful, evangelical proclamation.

John H. Elliott, emeritus
University of San Francisco
San Francisco, CAlifornia

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