The Song of Songs

An Introduction

 

Origin

The first verse of our book gives us both the title and the traditional author (1:1). The title “Song of Songs” employs the same mechanism of superlative as “King of Kings” and “Lord of Lords” to indicate that the song it contains is the best of the best. The phrase “which is Solomon’s” has been traditionally been taken to mean that Solomon is the author, but the original phrase might have meant “from Solomon” or “by Solomon” or “for Solomon” or any of a number of similar interpretations. We will see that Solomon could not have been the single author, but he is known to be a prodigious author of proverb and song (1 Kings 4:29-34) and it is intriguing that tradition should ascribe to the same voice the didactic of Proverbs, the rhetoric of Ecclesiastes, and the lyricism of the Song of Songs.

If we accept the connection to Solomon, then we know the time and setting of the book, but the remaining questions with which we are accustomed to introduce ourselves to a book are harder to answer. To whom was the book addressed and to what purpose? Ostensibly, of course, the Song was written from a lover, or perhaps various lovers, to the object of their love in order to confess and impart their desire. But this answer does not address the inclusion of the Song as canon. As the Song contains no law, no prophecy, nor any theology at all, as it has no mention of God, good, or evil, then the meaning of the book, perhaps in its original authorship, but certainly in its canonization, must be something other than its overt message.

Overt Story

The overt story is told, though not in any sense narrated, by three voices. There is a masculine voice, which has traditionally been attributed to Solomon (2:2). There is a feminine voice, which comprises the greater portion of the Song (2:2-7). If the masculine voice is that of Solomon, then the feminine voice is that of a lover or the lovers of Solomon (3:6-11). But whether either of these is necessarily originally a single voice, or whether the voices have attained their unity as collected in the Song, we do not know – nor does our interpretation prefer either possibility over the other. Finally, there is a third voice that is taken to be a collective, called in modern times “the friends”. The utterances of this voice are brief and often puzzling (8:8-9).

Though there are passages which are not highly erotic and have the feel of scripture, if with they contain some mild and enigmatic sensuality (2:10-13) the tone, generally, is of explicit eroticism and heavy sensuality. The feminine voice speaks of her love with intense and insistent desire (1:2-4, 3:1-4). The masculine voice speaks of his beloved with the aesthetic of passion (4:1-7). The overt message of the Song is a celebration of shameless erotic love.

Allegory

Though such a celebration may have its place, the place of the Song within the cannon requires us to seek another meaning behind, or perhaps above, the overt. If we are to understand the Song as scripture, we must find some way to relate the erotic love of humanity to the agape love of God.

If we find disturbing the thought of any such comparison, we should not. The inclusion of the Song as scripture has in itself anointed the idea, and there are other uses of the metaphor in other books of the canon. In Jeremiah, for example, the Lord uses erotic love positively to liken Israel to the a young wife, cloven faithfully to her husband (Jeremiah 2:1-2) and negatively to describe the wantonness of Israel, prostituting with every suitor at every opportunity (Jeremiah 3:1-2).

The Song, then, is an allegory for God and Israel, embraced in perpetual desire. As the story of Israel is itself an allegory that prefigures the church, then the Song also speaks of the mutual desire of Christ and his church, a relationship clearly established by scripture (Mark 2:18-20, Ephesians 5:31-32).

We find the language of the book itself unlike any other scripture, and indeed we may find shocking the very idea that erotic love may be instructive for agape love, but no other book is so instructive of the passion with which we should seek our God. Even the Psalmist, whose soul panted for the living God, was seeking the security and deliverance that can only be afforded by that God (Psalm 42:1-2). The lovers of the Song each desire their beloved for their person alone. The only reward the seek is the one they love.

We seek relationship with God to sustain us. We seek the embrace of God to comfort us. We seek the voice of God to guide us. The Song teaches us to seek the relationship for the sake of the relationship, to desire the embrace because it is desirous, to yearn for the voice of God because it is the voice of God.

The Whole Duty of Man

Ecclesiastes 11:7-12:14

 

Light is Sweet

Not for the fist time, but more in a manner that is a custom if the book, our first passage (11:7-10) seems not only contradictory to or paradoxical with previous passages, but in fact to have conflict within itself. It is almost astounding to begin with to hear the same Ecclesiast who has continually decried this life “under the sun” and even made a farce of the machinations of the sun itself (1:5) the now proclaim “Light is sweet.” In addition, he gives the “young man” the advice to follow his heart and the desires of his eyes, though he has reported his own experience with this approach to live to be vanity and nothingness (2:10-11).

The Ecclesiast does temper his instructions with the admonition to follow them in the certain knowledge of the judgment of of God. Indeed, it may seem as though such judgment would prohibit the very approach the Ecclesiast is encouraging (Numbers 15:39). Does the Ecclesiast, who after all tells us that the very youth he values is nothing but vanity, intend to offer us advice that is “void where prohibited” or can we find that he has something more substantial in mind?

When Jesus tells us to compare the lilies to “Solomon in all his glory” (Luke 12:22-31) his words cut across time, bringing the Old Testament theology of the Ecclesiast into the New Testament message of the Gospel. Certainly, this passage is evocative of other Old Testament voices who remind us of the ephemerality of our lives (Job 14:1-2; Isaiah 40:6). This message is consistent with the vanity observed by the Ecclesiast, and Jesus does nothing to dispel the notion. Nor does the agent of our resurrection defer the meaning of life to the afterlife. This life is blessed by the Father who loves even the lilies of the field, and who loves us even more.

The Conclusion of the Matter

Our next passage (12:1-8) continues the Ecclesiast’s portrayal of the paradox of our lives. Where we have been told that the extent of our vanity is such that death is better than birth (7:1) and contrastingly that the hope of life is a prize worth grasping (9:5-6) we are now shown a composite view, where life remains an opportunity and death is romanticized as the regrettable loss of a valued possession. This dual view of life is completely consistent with the Ecclesiast’s command that we enjoy this empty life that God has given us (9:9). This meaningless life is given meaning by God.

These pronouncement “All is vanity” might have been the end of the matter, bringing the cycle back to its beginning (1:1-2) but someone, the Ecclesiast himself, his recorder, or some later epilogist has added a conclusion for our consideration (12:10-14).

The very idea that there can be some conclusion, beyond the cry of “Vanity!” seems foreign to the body of the book, but perhaps the Ecclesiast, in keeping with the idea that the end is better than the beginning, has saved for us the best to last. That we should fear God is an idea consistent throughout the book (3:14; 5:7; 7:18; 8:12). That this is our “whole duty” seems to be an expansion on the idea, presented previously and repeated in our current passages, that we must make use of this life.

This conclusion of Ecclesiastes reminds us of the dramatic “conclusion” of Job (Job 28:28) who finds that the idea is both the sum of human knowledge and the only prescription for life. Paul calls a life lived in the fear of the Lord a “living sacrifice” and declares that it is our “reasonable service.” (Romans 12:1)

This same prescription for living, which brings redemption to the paradoxical life we live “under the sun” is expressed by Christ his command to take up the cross.

Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it. (Matthew 16:24-25 KJV)

This Meaningless Life

Ecclesiastes 9:1-11:6

 

The Same Destiny

In our first passage (9:1-6) the Ecclesiast returns to an idea he has expressed before: our common destiny. In this passage, he compares the final outcome of the righteous and the wicked, the good and the bad, and the good man and the sinner. Previously, he has compared the wise and the foolish (2:14-17) and concluded that the wise man dies just like a fool. In this conclusion, he is in complete agreement with Job, who has observed generally that, however different our experiences may be in life, the experience of death is the same (Job 21:23-26). More specifically and more personally, Job finds himself in utter confusion over the role of sin and righteousness in his own life (Job 10:13-15).

But having returned to a confirm a former statement, the Ecclesiast moves on in seeming contradiction with another earlier idea. When he has stated that our life in this world is such that the day of death better than the day of birth (7:1) he now says that a living dog (not held in high esteem by the Jews) is better off than a dead lion because “the dead know nothing” – their influence on this life is no more.

This conclusion seems contrary to even our most casual observation. In the abstract, it is contravened by history: civilization would not advance (assuming that is the direction of movement) if the dead no longer contributed to life. Personally, also, each of us who have lost a loved one knows without doubt that the dead continue to affect the living. How, then, can the Ecclesiast make such a claim?

This Meaningless Life

From this confusing statement, the Ecclesiast moves to one more perplexing, as he directs us to enjoy “this meaningless life that God has given us” (9:7-12). This, at first, may seem like a swipe at God, but we get a different understanding if we connect it with earlier statements. The Ecclesiast has shown us before that this life “under the sun” is meaningless on its own, but is imbued with meaning as a gift of God (3:13; 5:19). God, he says, has already approved of our activity in this life, and we do know that, at creation, God approved of this world and the life within it (Genesis 1:31). Even when we fail to live up to the righteousness God designs for us, God has already provided for our redemption (Romans 5:8).

We must, then, do what we must. After this life, there is no opportunity for work (a prospect that is enticing enough for some of us). In this life, we must “do with our might what our hands find to do.” Again, we may read the Ecclesiast to mean that we may do whatever we wish, and then compare this to his earlier argument that it can make no difference what we do, and become a bit confused. We must continue to understand these statements in the context of the gift of God, whose work gives meaning to our lives (John 17:4).

Bread Upon the Waters

The intermediate passages seem to contain a collection of wise sayings that the Ecclesiast (or his recorder, or a later collector) wanted to include before his drive to conclusion, but this same train of thought picks up again in Chapter 11. While he has, at some length, decried this life under the sun, in which nothing we can acquire or accomplish can had any affect at all, he now tells that we cannot be immobilized; we must act (11:1-6).

This change in thinking is not a contradiction, but a metamorphosis, as the view of this life that was “grounded” under the sun now takes flight through the transcendent blessing of God. The earlier direction to do what we find to do is refined to more specific, if somewhat enigmatic, instruction to “cast your bread upon the waters” and “give portions to seven and eight.” There are ways to interpret these instructions as having application to commerce for the purpose of material gain, but the value of such enterprise has already been completely dismissed by the Ecclesiast (2:22-23).

Instead of contravening his earlier observations, the Ecclesiast has transformed them. When the focus of life is “under the sun”, life is meaningless vanity. When this focus is transcended by the gift of God, life becomes an opportunity that cannot be missed. Since we do not know when this opportunity may be taken from us, we must be continually ready (Matthew 24:35-46). This readiness is not accomplished by constantly watching the clouds, but by acting on the opportunity while it is available to us. The gift of meaning God has given to us is the gift of giving to others.

Keep on giving to everyone who asks you for something, and if anyone takes what is yours, do not insist on getting it back. Whatever you want people to do for you, do the same for them. (Luke 6:30-31 ISV)

The Lap of Fools

The Lap of Fools

Ecclesiastes Chapters 7-8

 

The Rhetoric of Ecclesiastes

The incredible diversity employed by the Bible in its effort to reveal to us the word of God is indicative either of the depth and breadth of the topic of discourse; the urgent concern of presentation; the inattentive, thick-headed reception; or some combination of these. Even within each of the major categories (law, narrative, prophecy, literature/wisdom, letters) the variety is great and enjoyable and instructive.

As wisdom literature, Ecclesiastes has similarities to Proverbs: a collection of short, non sequitur ways sayings that can be understood independently and at random. That appearance is strongly present in the present chapters. The character of Ecclesiastes, however, is actually much more like Job, in that its parts must be interpreted in the context of the whole. But where the irony of the narrative and discourse of Job relentlessly undermines the idea of exchange theology, Ecclesiastes uses all manner of rhetoric to establish the utter futility, the “vanity”, of all ideas – exchange theology or otherwise – and indeed all activity “under the sun.”

The End and the Beginning

The disconnected feel of the first passage (7:1-8) of Chapter 7 is largely due to the first verse. Its feel as a general, abstract proverb seems to set the tone for a series of similar statements that appear to be either so abstract or so paradoxical as to have little application. If we look closely, however, we see that the words “name” (šěm) and “oil” (šemen) may be a pun on the sentiment that ends the passage “the end is better than beginning.”

In the Jewish way of thinking, word and reputation were more durable than wealth and goods. After we are gone are names will remain. The Ecclesiast says that it is better to end with a good name, but everything we do in this life leads to the end; the wise live with the end in mind, and do not dream of better days before.

Consider what God Has Done

Having dedicated the better part of six chapters to the empty futility of earthly existence, the Ecclesiast abruptly and succinctly states that this life is as God has made it: everything good and and evil (7:13-16). These brief statements closely reflect the thoughts that are more carefully developed in Job (Job 2:10; 21:7). Through Isiah, God declares himself to be the creator of peace and evil (Isaiah 45:7) and Jesus describes the Father as the one who sends rain on the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45). Our existence, in nature and in fact, is intended and accomplished by God.

Having considered the the futility of our life “under the sun” and the author of that life, the Ecclesiast then considers how we might respond to our situation. The very common response to the emptiness of life, and to any of the many other troubles of life, is anger. Is anger ever an appropriate response? The English language is very complicated, so it may be that the word anger labels more than one idea, and there may be some usage of the term that is appropriate. Certainly, we are familiar with the righteous anger of the Lord, but then the Lord alone is righteous. The Ecclesiast tells us that anger is part of the nature of a fool. The word (chêyq) in 7:9 that is translated “lap” or “bosom” comes from a root that means to “enclose” – anger, when it is not an expression of righteousness, is a manifestation of a fundamentally flawed character, and Jesus tells that it will never go unnoticed (Matthew 5:22).

Another common response to the uncertainty of life is to be constantly hyper-attentive (7:16-18) but Jesus tells us the most we can handle are the matters at hand (Matthew 6:34). We also quite often try to cope by holding others to a different, higher standard than we do our ourselves – and forgetting that the standard is not ours to choose in any case (7:21-22; Luke 6:37). Generally, we forget that we were made perfect, and we abandon that perfection for our own schemes (7:29; Matthew 5:48).

The Enjoyment of Life

The Ecclesiast devotes the weight of his rhetoric to those things to which our life is devoid. He does offer us brief flashes of transcendence, in which he acknowledges that whatever else life may be, it is good. The statement as it occurs in the current chapters is very simple (8:15). Other passages do at least confess such joy as a gift of God (3:13). Other than that confession, the Ecclesiast offers no suggestion how such transcendence might be accomplished from this empty world to such lasting joy, but Paul suggests that the means is service.

I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God. (Romans 12:1-2 KJV)