I didn’t read the Old Testament much until I was a philosophical and legalistic young man fighting my way back from atheism.  I had already decided to side with God, more or less.  The more I read the Old Testament the more I hated the Israelites, stupid, rebellious people who never seemed to learn a thing that God tried so patiently to teach them.  Of course, the moment I articulated that thought was also the moment I realized that the ancient Israelites depicted in the Bible are a fair and accurate representation of most of us.  But I was shocked the first time I heard someone blame Solomon’s excessive building projects for causing the rebellion that divided the kingdom of Israel.

This particular critic didn’t mention Solomon’s idolatry and God’s intervention to take most of the kingdom from Solomon’s son as a possible or even a remotely plausible explanation.  He didn’t dispute the reason given in the Bible, didn’t prove it erroneous or entertain it in any way whatsoever; he didn’t mention it.  You see, this particular critic was an historian seeking real historical reasons for the divided kingdom of Israel; he wasn’t even interested in the fanciful interpretations of ancient Israelite writers.

Friedrich Nietzsche was an altogether different matter.  Descended from Lutheran Pastors, he knew too well that the mere existence of the Old Testament spoke too profoundly of the existence of God.  It must be engaged, debated and unmasked, as Nietzsche would have it.  For why would any people write, cherish and preserve documents that portrayed them in such a bad light, if they were not in some sense persuaded it was God who had judged them so and caused them to write it that way?

Nietzsche’s solution—that lying priests and prophets falsified Israel’s true history with a post hoc theology—is predicated on a profound faith.  It is not faith in Christ or faith in God, but faith in the nonexistence of God.  Whether the historical critic I mentioned shared Nietzsche’s faith or not, Nietzsche’s philosophical writings had become an unquestioned part of the intellectual underpinning of the in-the-box kind of thinking that encouraged him to ignore the Bible completely.

I considered then, if Nietzsche and the historical critic were wrong (that is, if God was in fact interfering in Israel’s history), then the in-the-box historical analysis practiced by contemporary historians precludes them from ever grasping the truth of the actual history of Israel.  On the other hand, if the Bible is nothing more than cleverly-devised fables, I was primed to appreciate just how cleverly-devised those fables actually are.

Solomon presided over a golden age in Israel according to the Bible.  The population grew but the people were well fed and happy.¹  Solomon was the ultimate realization of Israel’s hope for a king.  While Saul’s and David’s reigns were marred by warfare both internal and external, Solomon was at peace with all his neighbors.²  All the people of Judah and Israel had security, the text recounts poetically, everyone from Dan to Beer Sheba enjoyed the produce of their vines and fig trees throughout Solomon’s lifetime.³  No marauders came to steal the fruit of Israel’s labor.  On the contrary much of the wealth of Solomon’s kingdom came from tribute paid by vassal states.⁴  The temple,⁵ at very least a symbolic triumph and vindication of Israel’s faith in God, was constructed and dedicated during Solomon’s reign.⁶  Solomon was wiser than all the men of the east and all the sages of Egypt.⁷  People from all nations came to hear Solomon’s display of wisdom.⁸

It’s not so surprising that I missed the significance of Solomon’s wealth at first.  It reads like more of the same, further gilding the lily of Solomon’s golden age.  There is no hint of indictment until the mention of Solomon’s many wives, as if the author were still reticent to speak ill of the dead king or his glorious reign.  And this is the king who divided the kingdom by his inept rule?

In the book of Ecclesiastes we get a slightly different view of Solomon, the dark side of wisdom, as it were.  He was wise enough to question the meaning of life. I have become much wiser than any of my predecessors who ruled over Jerusalem; I have acquired much wisdom and knowledge.  So I decided to discern the benefit of wisdom and knowledge over foolish behavior and ideas; however, I concluded that even this endeavor is like trying to chase the wind!  For with great wisdom comes great frustration; whoever increases his knowledge merely increases his heartache [See Addendum below].⁹

His restless mind conceived massive construction projects and led him on a path of acquisitiveness few of us can follow (Ecclesiastes 2:4-11 NET).

I increased my possessions:  I built houses for myself; I planted vineyards for myself.  I designed royal gardens and parks for myself, and I planted all kinds of fruit trees in them.  I constructed pools of water for myself, to irrigate my grove of flourishing trees.  I purchased male and female slaves, and I owned slaves who were born in my house; I also possessed more livestock—both herds and flocks—than any of my predecessors in Jerusalem.  I also amassed silver and gold for myself, as well as valuable treasures taken from kingdoms and provinces.  I acquired male singers and female singers for myself, as well as what gives man sensual delight—a harem of beautiful concubines [See Addendum below].  So I was more wealthy than all my predecessors in Jerusalem, yet I maintained my objectivity: I did not hold myself back from getting whatever I wanted, I did not deny myself anything that would bring me pleasure.  So all my accomplishments gave me joy, this was my reward for all my effort.  Yet when I reflected on everything I had accomplished and on all the effort that I had expended to accomplish it, I concluded: “All these achievements and possessions are ultimately profitless—like chasing the wind!”

If I stop there (and I probably did at some point) the evidence seems to favor the complaint the Israelites lodged with Solomon’s son Rehoboam, Your father made us work too hard.  Now if you lighten the demands he made and don’t make us work as hard, we will serve you.¹⁰  But as I studied more I began to question whether the rebels’ stated reason for rebellion was their real reason.

Here are the details concerning the work crews King Solomon conscripted,¹¹ the ninth chapter of 1 Kings proclaims.  There were non-Israelite peoples…left in the land [Table]… Solomon conscripted them for his work crews [Table]… Solomon did not assign Israelites to these work crews; the Israelites served as his soldiers, attendants, officers, charioteers, and commanders of his chariot forces [Table],¹² during an unprecedented time of peace.  The work crews Solomon sent to the forests of Lebanon may have been Israelites.  One month on and two months off may not be the best work schedule imaginable,¹³ but is it burdensome enough to risk a violent revolution?

The more I considered these things in the simple terms of material cause and effect—Solomon worked the people too hard, so they rebelled against him—the less I was convinced.  Yes, kings are a burden on the people; that was God’s point, after all.  But this particular king didn’t seem harsh enough to cause a rebellion.  I began to wonder, if God wanted to punish Solomon for sin by dividing his kingdom in his son’s reign, how would He do it?  How could He get people to rebel against this king?

Addendum: August 28, 2021
The following differences between the Masoretic text and Septuagint deserve to be highlighted:

The only other occurrence of παραβολὰς (a form of παραβολή) in the Septuagint was 3 Kings (Reigns) 5:12 (1 Kings 4:32 in the Masoretic text), And Solomon spoke three thousand proverbs (παραβολὰς), and his songs were five thousand (English Elpenor).  The first occurrence of γνώσεως (a form of γνῶσις) in the Septuagint was Proverbs 13:16, Every prudent man acts with knowledge (γνώσεως): but the fool displays his own mischief (English Elpenor).  This will take much more study than I’ll do here and now.

There are enough differences to warrant the table below.  The NET has a long explanation in a translator’s note (37tn).  [T]he delight of the sons of men, in the English translation of the Tanakh on chabad.org is wagons and coaches.

Tables comparing 1 Kings 4:20; 4:24; 4:25; 4:30; 4:34; Ecclesiastes 1:16; 1:17; 1:18; 2:4; 2:5; 2:6; 2:7; 2:8; 2:9; 2:10 and 2:11 in the Tanakh, KJV and NET, and tables comparing the Greek of 1 Kings (3 Reigns, 3 Kings) 4:20 (2:46a[b]); 4:24 (5:4); 4:25 (2:46g[b], 2:46 η[b]); 4:30 (5:10); 4:34; Ecclesiastes 1:16; 1:17; 1:18; 2:4; 2:5; 2:6; 2:7; 2:8; 2:9; 2:10 and 2:11 in the Septuagint (BLB and Elpenor) follow.