Low-level skeptics like McKinsey often abuse the book of Ecclesiastes for their own purposes. They fail to understand the book on two levels: First, as an example of proverbial literature whose statements are not to be taken as absolutes. Second, they fail to resolve the paradox of Ecclesiastes within this genre, and that is the subject of this essay.

The paradoxical nature of Ecclesiastes -- a book filled with statements regarded as being in tension (for example, on one hand mulling over the despair of life, then shortly thereafter encouraging the enjoyment of life) -- has been variously identified as being because Ecclesiastes is either a dialogue of a man debating with himself, "torn between what he cannot help seeing and what he still cannot help believing," [Kidner, Wisdom of Proverbs, Job and Ecclesiastes, 91], or else as the author's "challenge to the man of the world to think his own position through to its bitter end, with a view to seeking something less futile." I prefer the second interpretation, but in either case, the compositional principle is the same, and derives from the ancient Near Eastern methodology, which we might loosely compare to a Hegelian case of combining thesis and antithesis, to arrive at a synthesis; or else for sports fanatics to a game of tennis in which the ball is batted back and forth between opposing points to arrive at a consensus.

In this regard Ecclesiastes is related to other ANE literature with the same, or similar, content and methodology. Works like A Dialogue About Human Misery and Pessimistic Dialogue Between Master and Servant (on which, Murphy comments, the "dexterity the slave displays in affirming both the positive and negative aspects of a situation is reminiscent of [Ecclesiastes'] own style" -- Murphy commentary on Eccl, xliii] from Babylon; The Man Who Was Tired of Life from Egypt; and the book of Job from the OT, are all examples of this genre in which problems were discussed and resolved via dialogue. The modern Western mind has little patience with this sort of logical construction, and it is no surprise to see that critics have no appreciation for the implied intent of such literature: "Work out the problem yourselves," vs. "Give me an answer in a can, to go."

With that said, we can now answer certain charges against Ecclesiastes. Here's an example of an alleged contradiction:

Eccl. 1:4 One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever.

Does the earth go on forever? Skeptics point to this verse in opposition:

Matthew 24:35 Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.

Even on the surface this isn't a contradiction. The word used in Matthew carries the meaning of perish or neglect (Luke 11:42 "But woe unto you, Pharisees! for ye tithe mint and rue and all manner of herbs, and pass over judgment and the love of God..."); it does not automatically equate with destruction or passing out of existence. Even so, let's keep these words in context. Matthew, first of all, actually is an example of an oath and essentially means "even if" heaven and earth were to pass away (and they will not), so the idea is that Jesus' words will NEVER pass away (Malina and Rohrbaugh, Social-Science Commentary, 51). It is like saying, "When pigs fly." Now look at Ecclesiastes in context:

Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity. What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose.

A wooden-block reading of this text could raise all manner of dispute (indeed, has!) with wooden-block skeptical interpreters. Is ALL vanity? Don't we get paid for our labor? Etc. -- such complaints miss, again, the proverbial nature of the comments (see link above), but also miss the point that this is a formulation of one of Ecclesiastes' "thesis statements" that is meant to provoke thought (which, if I may be facetious, is a process many critics are not familiar with). The rhetorical question -- "a typical feature in wisdom literature" [Murphy, 7] -- is meant to state the thesis that our work generally makes us feel the way the "thesis" subject feels about life -- never mind that paycheck; in a bad job, you still feel like nothing is accomplished! Our key verse, verse 4, "affirms the ephemeral character of humankind, against the background of the ever-standing earth." Or: "the permanence of the earth is merely the foil against which the restless coming and going of human beings is outlined." The theme is monotonous repetition, "an analogue to aimless and futile human existence." Critics who complain thusly: "Sure, there's been new stuff under the sun; what about the moon landing?" -- are missing the point and have utterly no appreciation for the genre of wisdom literature. I compare such to the likes of Michael Martin rambling against the Sermon on the Mount (or as I posit, Confucius) begging exception to every moral maxim offered. So likewise could one nitpick endlessly at any work of general philosophy promulgated by any great moral or philosophical teacher. Does one comfort a grieving person who sees no purpose in their own life by saying, "Sure you have a purpose! You did your job flipping hamburgers today"?

Ecclesiastes is an example of an ancient and subtle art -- one the critics don't have a clue about.

And now we have some "clueless" comments from the author of the Ebon Musings website. Ebon doggedly insists that yet another dog of an alleged contradiction is worth more than the reply that we have already provided. In dealing with the book of Ecclesiastes, Ebon continues his reckless pattern of trying to discern meaning by attempting to avoid using his faculty of reason (he doesn't want to permit scholarship to hide the truth, no doubt). Ebon is apparently miffed at the apparently contradictory statements in Ecclesiastes. He must understand them as contradictory, mustn't he? Rather than give any credence to our detailed description of the genre and nature of Ecclesiastes, Ebon wishes to imply that any confusion that he experiences owing to ignorance is justified. He also claims that he doesn't want to appear to say that he needs to be spoon-fed concerning the meaning of the book. After that, he reels off his list of questions borne of ignorance, addressed below.

Perhaps some popular language from a modern movie will help, since Ebon elsewhere thinks he can use modern movies to evaluate persons in the ancient world. Ecclesiastes is a bit like the film Groundhog Day. Parts of the film seem to suggest that there is no value in life, and parts of the film very strongly suggest the reverse. The theme of the film (and likewise the book of Ecclesiastes) is found in the work as a whole. I can well imagine that Ebon's schoolwork (with particular respect to book and film critiques) would be hilarious reading.

Beyond this Ebon repeats his comments about the universality of the Bible which we address here, and which are no answer at all and as much as amount to a concession of error. He also balderdashes the Skeptical pep-point that we have "granted [ourselves] a convenient out for a great number of contradictions." If we have done so it is only because Skeptics and critics have created a convenient "in" for such "contradictions" via their own ignorance. None of this deals with the actual data at hand, which is whether indeed Ecclesiastes is proverbial and whether proverbial statements can by their nature be said to be in contradiction to others. His skein against ANE scholarship on this point and counter that as an atheist he might just be right rather in saying that the book is simply internally inconsistent, is merely pedantry. (We give him this answer that he requests: The resolution for Ecclesiastes is found in the very last verses. The answer to whether happiness is better than sorrow is, proverbially, that each is better than the other at various times and by various situations, because life is complex, not simple. Now ask the same question of Pessimistic Dialogue Between Master and Servant and see where it gets you as a hyper-literalist who wants pat answers in a can.)