“Be not righteous overmuch, neither make thyself overwise: why shouldest thou destroy thyself?”
I learn that all of these translations are based on the difficulty that English does not have a verb ‘to be wise’, a static verb (tit-hak-kam, תִּתְחַכַּ֖ם), in the original Hebrew that must have allowed a lot of very arrogant and assured phrases. “I wise”, “he wises”, “he was wising”. I think that it should be translated “don’t overwise yourself”, which makes enough sense in English to sound like a sufficiently weighted admonition you might yell at your uncle during a particularly heated argument.
I like the fact that, in this verse, Qoheleth negates ‘be wise’ and admonishes too much wisdom, in a piece of wisdom literature. There’s a great contradiction to this and it encompasses its paradox as a “Christian” text. This is the same Christ who was extremely righteous (sad-diq, צַדִּיק֙) and extremely wise, so much so that he famously effectively destroyed himself. Yet clearly the text has been chosen by centuries of scholars of all theological persuasions as fitting for the Christian canon. Maybe the text doesn’t refer to something as extreme as “destroying yourself” (תִּשּׁוֹמֵֽם, tis-so-w-mem) as “disorientating” yourself, “confusing” yourself? Apparently the original verb can mean “grow numb”: perhaps Qoheleth is referring to the sort of feeling you get from trying to milk your tired little human brain of all possible wisdom before sundown. Also, perhaps the Messiah – Christian or non-Christian – is exempt from anything that wisdom literature has to offer. Regardless, there’s a great apophatic beauty to Ecclesiastes, and I am left thirsty to actually learn Hebrew, although not too much that I feel like I’ve snorted bucketfuls of wisdom cocaine. I read about how Qoheleth is the only Hebrew Bible figure to literally address his heart, as if he’s given up on pathetic human beings and their inability to listen and turns to his own body instead.
Squidditas 