Ecclesiastes 10 makes no mention of God or religion. It doesn’t speak of morality or of spiritual right and wrong. The word evil appears in this chapter only once, in verse 5, and there it stands in parallel with the word error and apparently refers to a ruler’s poor judgment. And, at first glance at least, this chapter seems to be themeless. A subhead in the New Revised Standard Version labels it "Miscellaneous Observations."1

So, what are we to make of Ecclesiastes 10?

Although this chapter mentions evil explicitly only once, the theme permeates it—as it does the entire book of Ecclesiastes. But for the most part, the evil of which Koheleth speaks here and throughout Ecclesiastes isn’t the large-scale evil of massive natural disasters: earthquakes, tsunamis, plagues, and so forth. Nor is it the extraordinary, human-caused evil of wars and genocides.

Rather, it is the mundane unfairnesses and injustices that trouble us in life as most people experience it—the "sort of error that arises from a ruler" when that ruler puts fools in high positions (v. 6). It’s the injustice we see when the society in which we live gets its values twisted. Koheleth used the image of slaves riding on horseback while princes were left to make their way on foot (v. 7). We might think instead in terms of a society that, for instance, pays its entertainers scores and even literally hundreds of times more than it does the teachers of its children.

In this chapter, Koheleth also points out that it’s not just other people’s evil or folly that injures us. Innocent activities, such as digging a pit or renovating a wall, quarrying stones or splitting wood can end in pain (vs. 8, 9). "Life is prey to accidents even in our common, everyday experiences."2

So he cites mundane truths: attention to our tools will make life easier (v. 10), and an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure (v. 11). When people are lazy, things tend to fall apart (v. 18), "money meets every need" (v. 19, NRSV), and (by implication) we would do well to avoid the words and ways of fools (vs. 12–15).

He also highlights the distinction between rulers who bless a nation and those who bring woe upon it (vs. 16, 17). The latter, he says, think more of the "perks" their position places within their grasp than of the responsibilities that come with it. It’s not much of a stretch to think of these "rulers" in terms of businesses and other organizations as well as holders of political offices. This chapter ends with Koheleth’s warning about the danger of complaining in a totalitarian society (v. 20).

The value of the wisdom that Koheleth gives in Ecclesiastes 10 lies in the fact that it enables the reader to live a better life—an easier, less painful life—here and now. Living wisely doesn’t guarantee that one can escape evil and pain. It’s more a matter of playing the percentages, living by probability. Wisdom offers the best life possible given one’s circumstances and the uncontrollable happenstances of life in a fallen world. Ultimately, however, as Koheleth wrote,

The race is not to the swift
or the battle to the strong,
nor does food come to the wise
or wealth to the brilliant
or favor to the learned;
but time and chance happen to them all. (9:11 NIV)

This point is an important one for us to realize if we want to avoid disappointment with life—and with God. Living wisely doesn’t provide complete protection from the bumps and bruises—and worse—of life.

So, Koheleth advises that we be moderate in all things, even righteousness (Eccles. 7:15–18), and that we enjoy life while we can (5:18–20; 9:7–10). He says wisdom is a good thing, but he warns that when viewed from the perspective of our inevitable death, even wisdom becomes vanity; it’s meaningless (2:12–16). It can’t extend our lives beyond the seventy or eighty years we’ll live if we’re lucky. And unfortunately, God has laid a "burden" on humankind. "He has…set eternity in the hearts of men" (3:10, 11 NIV).

Actually, the bulk of Ecclesiastes says that we don’t know much about the important questions of life (for instance, 3:21; 9:1; 10:14), and what we do know doesn’t do us much good anyway. Its cynicism or maybe just plain pessimism about life combined with its seemingly secular perspective have led commentators to posit that the book had two authors: one who wrote the dark parts of the book (in the first person), and another who added (in the third person) an introduction and conclusion, the latter of which he used to bring into the book something of value—to make some positive, spiritual point.3

I don’t know that it’s necessary to conclude that most of Ecclesiastes isn’t worth the parchment it was written on. Advice regarding how to live in this world does have its value. And even greater value lies in Koheleth’s realistic portrayal of what our situation is if we have but one life to live—if this world is all we’ll ever know. In that case, life is essentially meaningless. Koheleth knew that. He wanted us to know it, too. That’s why he concluded his book with a reminder of the larger picture.

The apostle Paul agreed with this perspective. He wrote, "If the dead are not raised, ’Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die’" (1 Cor. 15:32). And earlier in the same chapter, he said, "If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied" (v. 19). "But," he continued, "Christ has indeed been raised from the dead"—and this gives us hope, it makes our lives meaningful, because "he is the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep" (v. 20, emphasis supplied).

I don’t mean to suggest that one’s life becomes more meaningful simply because it has the potential of going on forever. I think the meaning lies in the fact that there’s Someone who cares for us enough to do what was necessary to keep us around forever—and in the fact that he had a purpose in mind when he made the universe and when he made us. Fulfilling his purpose for us brings meaning to our lives.

And more than just meaning, it brings us joy.

Notes and References

1. George Aaron Barton (The Book of Ecclesiastes, International Critical Commentary [New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1909], 169ff) suggests that originally Ecclesiastes 10 did have a unifying theme: "one’s conduct before rulers" (see vs. 4–7, 14b, 16, 17, 20). Barton considers verses 1–3 to belong with chapter 9, and the verses other than those that are related to the theme to be interpolations by a later editor. I think we might draw from the chapter another theme as well: that of wisdom applied. Perhaps, then, the "interpolations" are simply extensions of Koheleth’s counsels regarding royalty.
On another matter, Barton and other commentators date Ecclesiastes to the era of the Seleucids, a couple centuries before Christ. But the counsels regarding one’s conduct before rulers seem more fitting when addressed to subjects of the kings of Israel than to Jewish subjects of pagan foreign rulers. The latter situation would seem to call for much larger complaints than those that appear in Ecclesiastes 10.
2. Tremper Longman III, The Book of Ecclesiastes, The New International Commentary on the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdmans, 1998), 244.
3. See, for example, ibid., 2ff.

EMAIL THIS ARTICLE