Thoughts on the Book of Ecclesiastes

Part 1

John G. Reisinger

Back in the sixties, a good friend of mine was a leader in a hippie commune. Upon conversion, he read Ecclesiastes and said, “The guy who wrote that is my kind of guy. He really has it all together.” Later, he radically changed his opinion about the content of the book. Ecclesiastes is the favorite book of skeptics, scoffers, and many of the cults. Any group that denies life after death, especially if it involves eternal punishment, will quote from Ecclesiastes to prove “the Bible agrees with me on the subject of no life after death.” The Jehovah Witnesses especially like this book for this reason. The pleasure-seeking hedonist uses Ecclesiastes to justify his “eat, drink, and be merry because tomorrow you die” philosophy. The secular humanist has a field day with Ecclesiastes and the counter-culture faddists find a true soul mate in Solomon. The evolutionist will claim that Ecclesiastes teaches evolution, since we “all die like animals.”

There is little disagreement among true Evangelicals concerning the identity of the author. It seems that the first verse of the opening chapter must describe Solomon. The writer calls himself Qoheleth, which means “one who gathers or assembles people.” Many commentaries call him the “Preacher” or the “Teacher,” and one writer calls him the “Seeker.” I think that last term is an excellent way to describe the writer of Ecclesiastes. He was a sincere Seeker who never was able to find what he earnestly sought. He had neither inhibitions nor hindrances to prevent him in any way from doing exactly what he wanted to do. The Seeker narrates the record of his life-long search, but we do not have to wait until we reach the end of his account to learn what he discovered. He states his conclusion immediately after he introduces himself, “Meaningless, meaningless, all is meaningless” (1:2); this is the verdict from a man who ‘did the whole scene,’ tried ‘anything and everything,’ and still came away empty.

There is much discussion as to when Solomon wrote the Book of Ecclesiastes. He started his reign as a godly man but, as we know, departed in his heart from God, and this is a record of that departure. It seems that Solomon wrote the book from the perspective of old age. As an old man, he looks back and recounts his bitter experience of utter folly, in the hope that others may be delivered from the same “meaninglessness and vanity.”

One of the first things to realize as we approach the Book of Ecclesiastes is that we cannot take every statement in it at face value. The author is not presenting his readers with the true wisdom of God; rather he is providing a true examination of the limits of man’s wisdom. He describes the utter folly of seeking truth and searching for reality while ignoring God’s self-revelation. For instance, Ecclesiastes certainly, on the surface, appears to teach that men are no better than beasts (3:18-22; 9:5). If the only information humanity has on the subject of death and what follows it is what can be observed under the sun, then the writer of Ecclesiastes is correct. In the Seeker’s under the sun philosophy, there is no hope beyond the grave, and his cry of absolute frustration, “Meaningless, meaningless, all is meaningless,” is more than justified. However, if God has been pleased to open our eyes to see and believe the truth of his self-revelation in his Word, then those words cannot express our standpoint. No child of God will ever stand on the shores of eternity, look back, and then say, “It was all meaningless. It was all vanity.” The biblical truths of the existence and character of God, his purpose in Creation, and the resurrection of believers assure us that neither our life nor our labor is in vain (2 Tim. 2:13; Col. 1:15-20; 1 Cor. 15: 35-58).

The key phrase in the book is under the sun. Ecclesiastes records the fruit of a lifetime spent in a serious and sincere search for meaning and truth. It faithfully recounts the sum total of man’s best efforts to discern the meaning of the visible world without considering the revelation that God has given of himself in his Word. Like the secular humanist of our day, the Seeker never considers revelation that comes from beyond man’s power of observation. Under the sun describes a way of looking at all things from the ground level of time instead of eternity, of self instead of God, and of sight alone instead of faith.

Ecclesiastes is not a dry book about old and worn-out philosophies. It is relevant to the reports in this morning’s paper, to the stories on last night’s television news, to the tearful displays on the daily soap operas, and to the arrogant pronouncements of politicians and political pundits on both the left and right. The Seeker is talking about your life and my life today. He forces us to look at reality.

One of the earliest “reality” television programs from some years ago was “This is your life.” The hosts would gather people that had an impact on the guest’s life in the past and present them, one by one, to the guest. The guest did not know in advance who would come out from behind the curtain, and the cameras captured his live, unscripted reaction for the television and studio audience. It was an interesting program, even though it was not very true to life. The producers were very selective in the people they brought to appear on the program.

The sweet English teacher in high school who gave you a break and always encouraged you to keep working was there, but never the math teacher. He was the one who flunked you, despite the fact you answered every question correctly, simply because you wrote your name on the wrong side of the final exam page. He was the teacher who called you a nerd and constantly told you that you would never make it.

The aunt and uncle who always sent Christmas presents were there, but never the relatives who were sure that you could not be part of their family. They insisted the babies got mixed up in the hospital.

The neighbor who gave you twenty-five dollars when you went to college and always asked about you was there, but never the neighbor who shot your dog when he crawled through the fence and kept your football when it accidentally bounced into his yard.

Actually, the television show really was not a true picture of your life at all. It was a sanitized version of reality: a rose-colored edition of your true life. Biographies often do the same thing as that television program. If a friend writes your biography, he or she will depict a different life from that chronicled by a bitter enemy. The life described in an autobiography is usually radically different from that in a biography, in fact, some autobiographies read like pure fiction!

Your photo album is the same kind of a record. You are very selective, and have every right to be, about what you put in a photo album or a scrapbook. You do not wish to remember or think about some people or events from your past. Your photo album may even have blank spaces where you have removed certain pictures. Those spaces may have once contained wedding pictures that are too painful a reminder of broken promises and unfulfilled dreams.

Unlike “reality” television, biographies, and photo albums, Ecclesiastes really is a true picture of life! The Seeker records an honest and unvarnished look at reality, and his account is not at all pretty. He recounts some high points, but primarily, he writes of a life filled with frustration. He experiences many tragic events, but no lasting joys. The writer sums up life under the sun as ‘Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,’ or as the NIV translates, ‘Meaningless, meaningless, all is meaningless.’ Dale Carnegie would not like the Book of Ecclesiastes at all. Norman Vincent Peale would be appalled by the writer’s conclusions.

We need to say a bit more about the phrase, under the sun. All people have a world and life view, whether they are aware of it or not. Each person has basic presuppositions that form a grid through which he or she interprets all of life. Under the sun is the world and life view of the Seeker and of much of our present culture as well. That is why Ecclesiastes is so important today. Under the sun philosophy views life as consisting only of what a person can taste, touch, feel, smell, think, etc. There is nothing beyond, or over, the sun. There is no one “out there.” We are alone in a universe we cannot control or understand. To put it in computer terminology, we live in a WYSIWYG society. When computers first came out, users could change the style and size of the typeface when they were typing. However, they could not see what the change actually looked like until the computer printed their composition on paper. All the type displayed on the monitor was identical to the typeface on a typewriter; it was all the same style and size. Soon, computer technology developed computers with monitors that immediately displayed the exact changes in size and type style. It was a great advancement. What the user saw on the monitor was exactly what was going to come out of the printer. This was called a WYSIWYG monitor, or “What You See Is What You Get.” The Seeker is saying the same thing about life and reality. What you can see, taste, touch, etc. is all you get. There is nothing more under the sun. Yes, Peggy Lee, this really is a WYSIWYG world. What you see is all there is! There is neither God nor future beyond the here and now. Under the sun is the sum total of all reality.

Under-the-sun adherents view all of life without any thought of, or reference to, God. Unless one wears rose-colored glasses or uses mind-altering drugs, such a view of reality not only is not very pretty, but also is very tragic. If people with this worldview never feel the agony of the Seeker, it is because they refuse to face reality. They may employ all kinds of diversionary methods to keep them from serious thinking. The Seeker honestly faced the stark ugliness of under the sun reality and then proceeded to describe its dreary and depressing consequences. Secular humanists often accuse Christians of living in a fantasy world and of not facing reality. Actually, it is the exact opposite. Christians, like the Seeker, face the real issues of life, but they come to different conclusions. The worldview for the Christian is shaped by the revelation of one who lives over the sun. Christians face the truth; they see the consequences of sin; its corruption of creation, degradation of life, and the ultimate reality and finality of death, and in spite of all this, they dare to say there is still hope because there is a God who gives grace. The man who lives in a fantasy world is the one who will not face the truth; he is a lost man. Any person who never considers and prepares for death and eternity is the real fool. Is anything more certain and real than death?

I remember when a neighbor died and my wife was looking for a sympathy card. All of sudden she said, “John, did you notice there are no humorous funeral cards?” I looked and sure enough, she was right. You can choose a funny card for anything but death and a funeral. If someone graduated from school or flunked, went on a trip and got seasick, went to the hospital, got arrested for speeding, lost a job or got a new one, or whatever, card writers can make a joke out of it. However, no one can make a joke out of death. I am thinking about writing a gospel tract about death and calling it “It’s Not Funny Magee!” The closer you get to reality, the uglier it becomes; the world is upside down because of sin. You are never closer to reality than when you attend a funeral and look into the casket. The Seeker understood that fact.

Better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for that is the end of all men; and the living will take it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for by a sad countenance the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. (Eccl. 7:2-4 NKJV)

What does the Seeker find after his serious, sincere and exhaustive search of the entire world for reality and truth? What does his under the sun philosophy teach him? He discovers at every turn the same conclusion: life is ‘meaningless, all is vanity.’ Here is the man’s motto:

“Vanity of vanities,” says the Preacher; “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” (Eccl. 1:2 NKJV)

Martyn Lloyd-Jones suggests that Paul, in 1 Corinthians 2:9-11, is teaching the same truth. Paul is showing that natural means of gaining knowledge cannot acquire knowledge of God or of any spiritual truth.

9 But as it is written:
"Eye has not seen, nor ear heard,
Nor have entered into the heart of man
The things which God has prepared for those who love Him."
10 But God has revealed them to us through His Spirit. For the Spirit searches all things, yes, the deep things of God. 11 For what man knows the things of a man except the spirit of the man which is in him? Even so no one knows the things of God except the Spirit of God. 1 Cor 2:9-11 (NKJV)

In verse 9, Paul describes the three basic methods men use to gain understanding. He first lists the Scientific method of obtaining knowledge. The scientist observes by the ‘eye’ and records what he observes. He compares his data with all known observed data of like kind. The data enables the scientist to postulate a theory, which then may be proved or disproved. If all is correct, then the theory from the data first observed with the eye becomes an established law. We do not ‘make’ laws in science, we merely ‘discover’ them. The ‘eye and observation method’ of scientific discovery of facts will never find God in a test tube, under a microscope, or through a giant telescope. Only the Holy Spirit can reveal the person and power of God to a lost soul.

The phrase ‘ear hath not heard’ is the Historical method of acquiring knowledge. We ‘hear’ what the great minds of the past have understood and recorded for us. We gather and compare the combined wisdom of the philosophers and historians of all past ages, but often the result is confusion and contradiction. Not all of the wisdom of the ages put together can find God.

“Nor has entered into the heart of man” refers to the sensitive artist. If ‘the heart of man’ means the mind, the thinking process, then this is a reference to philosophy. If ‘the heart of man’ refers to his emotions, then it applies to the arts. If the phrase means ‘the totality of man’s innermost being’, then it pertains to both the thinking process and the feeling process. Philosophers are supposed to be able think far past ‘non-enlightened’ minds, and artists are supposed to be able to ‘experience emotionally’ depths of feeling to a degree and in a way that ordinary folks cannot. Paul, however, insists that neither the mind (brains), nor the heart (emotions), nor both put together can find ultimate truth apart from God’s self-revelation. We, as Christians, can know for sure the difference between reality and fantasy, only because we know God himself in a way of saving faith. We have been given the mind of Christ. God has sovereignly revealed to us what the world cannot understand.

Philosophy is the history of one philosopher demonstrating the folly of another philosopher’s effort at finding ultimate truth. Usually, one of the master’s own students is the one who disproves his teacher. Art, whether music, painting, sculpting, drama, etc., veers back and forth from realism to abstract expressionism, from beauty to ugliness, and from rationalism to romanticism. Many interpretations of ‘reality’ leave behind an ugly feeling with the walls ever closing in and the options for escape running out.

Try listening to ten minutes of Mozart and then ten minutes of MTV. Are both of these true art forms? That depends on how you define art. The dictionary defines art as “the use of skill and imagination in the production of things of beauty or the works so produced” (Merriam-Webster, 1997). If beauty is defined subjectively, as only ‘in the eye of the beholder,’ then some people can believe that art is a repetition of loud and disconnected sounds, grotesque shapes and weird movements mixed together under flaming and pulsating colored lights. To others, this depicts utter confusion and a feeling of futility.

In a postmodern culture, some artists believe that they have the right to define both art and truth since artists “see more deeply” into reality. I read about a famous artist who sent a letter to the National Museum of Art and said, “I am donating a piece of my work to your gallery.” Several months went by and nothing came. The director of the Museum wrote to the artist and mentioned that no artwork had been received. Several days later, the Museum director received a carbon copy of the original letter. The man was an artist. What he did was art. He produced the letter, which became a piece of art simply because he, an artist, produced it. I do not know if the director was enlightened enough to display the ‘piece of art’ or not.

The postmodern artist believes that he or she defines truth and conveys that truth through his or her work. The postmodern viewer of art believes that he or she defines truth, and perceives it through his or her emotions. Paul, by inspiration, is telling us that neither the artist, nor the viewer, nor the historian, nor the scientist, nor all of them together, can lead us to truth. Ecclesiastes is the record of the man best equipped to find truth, who searched in every place, using every method, and who came up completely empty. It is glorious that God has revealed to us, by his word and Spirit, the truth that has eluded all the under-the-sun scientists, historians, artists, and the Seeker.

Immediately after stating his philosophy of the vanity of all of life, the Seeker expressed the obvious and certain conclusion to such an ideology. If everything is meaningless, then why even try to attain any goal? It is a waste of time and effort.

What profit has a man from all his labor in which he toils under the sun? (Eccl. 1:2, 3 NKJV)

This is the grievous but certain consequence for the man who adopts this under the sun view of life. The word profit means “that which is left over.” What is left over after we attain a given goal? After we have sucked all the juice out of any given pleasure or experience, what is left to cheer the heart and feed the soul tomorrow? Can a gold trophy sitting on the shelf give us the same thrill it did that moment we heard our name called as the winner? What about next year when we hear another name called? After the first flush of attainment, what remains that will sustain and fill that hunger for lasting satisfaction? This is surely the right question and the Seeker has no answer. All he can say is that he has found neither the bread of life nor the water of life. Every piece of bread, no matter how expensive or tasty, has become moldy and cannot satisfy the Seeker’s hunger, and all the water he ever drank has become bitter in his mouth and only mocked him as he tried to quench his thirst. The hymn writer said it better than I ever could.

O Christ, in Thee my soul hath found, and found in Thee alone
The peace, the joy I sought so long, The bliss till now unknown.
I sighed for rest and happiness, I yearned for them, not Thee;
But while I passed my Saviour by, His love laid hold of me.
I tried the broken cisterns, Lord, but ah! the waters failed!
E’en as I stooped to drink they’d fled, And mocked me as I wailed.
The pleasures lost I sadly mourned, But never wept for Thee,
Till grace the sightless eyes received Thy loveliness to see.
Now none but Christ can satisfy, None other name for me
There’s love, and life, and lasting joy Lord Jesus found in Thee.

In Ecclesiastes 1:4-7, the Seeker will compare man with nature. Humanity is transient, but nature is permanent. We are “here today and gone tomorrow,” but the earth endures forever. Nature not only yields no answers, it is part of the problem. The implication of the Seeker’s observations as he looks at nature in the light of his under the sun philosophy is that it seems to make no sense at all. We can neither (1) get rid of nature, nor (2) find any way of controlling the earthly realm that embodies the problem. It is just as the song said, “The music goes round and round, and where it stops, nobody knows.”

One generation passes away, and another generation comes; but the earth abides forever. (Eccl 1:4 NKJV)

We have a ‘term limit’ on our earthly existence and we pass on when our term is up, but not so with nature. Humans have a ‘time to be born and a time to die’ (Eccl. 3:2) but the sun, wind, rain and mountains have no ‘term limits’ or ‘times.’ They never grow old and they never change or die. Nature is radically different from humanity, yet at the same time, the endless cycles of nature mirror the same endless and meaningless cycles of our life. The Seeker uses three examples to prove his point.

First he looks at the sun.

The sun also rises, and the sun goes down, and hastens to the place where it arose. (Eccl 1:5 NKJV)

The sun comes up in the east and dispels the darkness. It appears to move across the sky and disappear in the west. While we were sleeping, the sun apparently went under the earth and came up in the east just as it did yesterday. The sun has been coming up at the same place every day since time began. Its timing is precise and predictable down to the second. There is no internal change or deviation, nor can we effect any lasting change on it. The sun comes up at the same place with split-second precision (we can tell the exact minute of sunrise on Christmas Day ten thousand years from now). It travels precisely the same course without deviating an inch and it goes down every day just as precisely on schedule as to time and place.

Tomorrow, a new day finds the sun coming up exactly as it did yesterday and every other day that has passed. You might expect something different with such a great beginning, but it doubles back, the same as the day before, to the same place. Tomorrow it will start all over again in the identical routine. The sun comes up so it can go down, so it can come up, so it can go down, so it can come up, ad infinitum.

This brings to mind the old song about the bear going over the mountain only to see another mountain. You can see the bear chugging up the mountain in eager enthusiasm and reaching the top, totally out of breath, only to discover another mountain. He goes down the other side and again chugs up the next mountain, only to discover still another mountain. Each time his excitement and expectations are disappointed when he reaches the top. “Oh, not another mountain” will soon do away with any enthusiasm for climbing any mountain. The same seems to be true of life. We exert every effort and expend every resource to reach a cherished goal, only to discover there is a bigger and what appears to be a better goal waiting. Verse 3 keeps ringing in our ears. What profit has a man from all his labor in which he toils under the sun? Was it really worth all that effort only to discover there is yet another mountain?

In verse 6, the Teacher looks at the wind. What is freer than the wind? John 3:8 tells us that it blows where it pleases. We often say, “He is as free as the wind.” In reality, the wind is just as controlled as the sun.

The wind goes toward the south, and turns round to the north; the wind whirls about continually, and comes again according on its circuit. (NKJV)

The wind whirls in every direction, but it is not as random as it appears. It always follows a prescribed circuit. If you could follow its course, you would see that it is just as locked in as the sun. If you could somehow tag a leaf and keep it intact, you would discover that some day, the leaf would blow back to the very spot from which it started.

In verse 7, the Teacher looks at rain and water.

All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; to the place from which the rivers come, there they return again.

Look at the mighty Niagara Falls. Where does all that water go? You would think the lakes and the oceans would keep filling up until the world was completely under water. Yet, that is not what happens. The water all goes back to the same clouds from which it came. One day in the future, every drop of water will flow again over Niagara Falls. It will follow its course to a great body of water, evaporate back into the clouds and fall upon earth and ultimately, the same water again will flow over Niagara Falls. Label a drop of water like you did the leaf, and someday you will see it pass over the same waterfalls. That amazing and mysterious process of evaporation from the sun, union with the clouds, and transportation by the wind evens it all out so that the lakes and the oceans will always maintain their ordained level.

The perpetual propagation of humanity seems to be the same as the cycles of the sun, wind and rain. It is the same old circle that makes no sense. Generations come and go - so what? Years and years come and go - so what? Days pass, events occur, life leads to death - so what? Who cares? What difference does it make? Meaningless, meaningless, all is meaningless. I get up, I go to work, I come home and go to bed so I can get up to go to work so I can come home and go to bed so I can get up and go to work. . . I live and die and - so what! The “Treadmill Existence” is the way one writer describes verses 5-7. Hammerstein and Kern said it well:

Ol’ man river, that ol’ man river
He don’t say nothin’, but he must know somethin’
He just keeps rollin’, he keeps on rollin’ along

He don’t plant taters, he don’t plant cotton
And them plants em, are soon forgotten,
But ol’ man river, just keeps rollin’ along.

Something is terribly wrong here. Something is backwards. Man, not nature, is the highest of all God’s creative order. Man should be permanent and nature transient. God gave man dominion over the very creation that now, in some sense, lords it over him. Man feels this fact keenly. Why should nature go on so consistently, while we bury friends and loved ones? How does the river just keep rolling along unaltered, while we grow old, wither and die? Why is it that constant change frustrates our dreams and deep hunger for satisfaction, but “ol’ man river just keeps rollin’ along,” unminding and unchanging? Ecclesiastes presses these kinds of realities and questions on us while insisting there are no answers. Such is the plight of the man who tries to understand life apart from any consideration of God.

Christians know the answers to these questions. We express them in our great hymns, such as “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.” The first verse extols God’s unchanging faithfulness.

“Great is Thy faithfulness,” O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with thee;
Thou changest not, thy compassions, they fail not;
As thou hast been thou forever will be.

In verse two, the author uses nature to prove the point of God’s unchanging faithfulness.

Summer and winter, and spring-time and harvest,
Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above,
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

(Thomas O. Chisholm, b.1866)

Solomon, in Ecclesiastes 1:4, states what both Isaiah and Peter also saw clearly. Humanity, like creation, is insignificant in itself. However, as the products of God’s sovereign purpose and creation, human beings find purpose, meaning, and significance in the one who made and redeemed them. The Seeker is correct in reminding us that, “One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever” (Eccl. 1:4). That truth must, and will, lead to either worship or despair according to one’s world and life view. Adherents to the philosophy of under the sun will see Ecclesiastes 1:4 as proof of the meaningless and insignificance of human life, but believers in him who dwells over the sun will see the same thing as proof of the faithfulness of God.

The New Covenant Scriptures, quoting Isaiah 40:6-8, drive home this stark similarity between man’s transient insignificance and that of grass and flowers.

. . . having been born again, not of corruptible seed but incorrupt­ible, through the word of God which lives and abides forever, because “All flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of the grass. The grass withers, and its flower falls away, but the word of the LORD endures forever.” Now this is the word which by the gospel was preached to you. (1 Pet 1:23-25 NKJV)

Notice how Peter contrasts the eternity and unchangeableness of God’s Word to our “here today and gone tomorrow” experience. Our only hope is that everything that the eternal Word begets also is eternal! Just as everything begotten by a corruptible seed must perish, so everything begotten by an incorruptible seed must endure for eternity. Christians have been born of God, by an incorruptible seed, the Word of God. One cannot acquire that kind of knowledge and hope from philosophers, psychologists, sociologists, historians, hedonists, or any other place, except from the revelation of him who dwells above the sun.

We need to learn some lessons from this discussion. First, if we look for ultimate meaning or satisfaction from created things, we find they become insignificant and meaningless. Only as those things lead us to HIM who is over the sun, are they meaningful and evidence of great mercy. However, without HIM and HIS blessing, those same particulars are like soap bubbles. We must see every blessing as a gift from God, designed to reflect his glory by increasing our delight and trust in him. We must not accept the blessings and then forget the one who sovereignly gave them.

We might be tempted to trust or even worship nature, since it is so permanent and we are so transient. The problem is that, apart from God’s revelation of himself as sovereign over nature, it gives us very mixed signals. A young couple may fall in love at the beach and decide to build their dream home on the very spot they first met. For five happy years, they watch the sun set, the moon bounce off the waves and feel the cool breeze on their faces. They may be tempted to worship “God’s beautiful handiwork.” One day a hurricane comes and the couple watches in horror as the same ocean and wind they almost worshipped destroys their home and all their possessions. Without an understanding of the sovereignty and the goodness of God, who would want to worship or trust the God who sends that kind of nature?

We must be careful not to deify nature. There is no such being as “Mother Nature” any more than there is a “Father Time.” Nature is not my mother and surely, time is not my father. When humanistic environmentalists consider nature to be “our fair sister,” they are parroting the heresy of Deism. Nature, all of it, and at all times, is totally under the control of a sovereign God. It is God’s sun and rain, and he makes his sun to shine and his rain to fall where, when, and upon whom he pleases. It is also his hurricane and volcano to do with as he chooses. He not only creates and controls every aspect of nature, but, as we shall see in chapter three, he also controls everything else.

Man studies the laws of nature, but he neither creates them nor in any way changes them. Launching a spaceship does not defy the laws of nature; rather it uses and obeys those laws. Chuck Swindoll asked an astronaut in his congregation how it felt to be ready to blast off in a spaceship. The astronaut replied, “How would you feel getting ready to blast off in a piece of equipment with over three-million parts and each one made by the lowest bidder?” Imagine the ingenuity it took to design and built three-million pieces of equipment and integrate them all into one single working unit so we could send a man to the moon. That is an astounding feat, but it is child’s play when compared to creating the human being capable of performing the amazing feat.

I remember watching the first man set his foot on the moon. The television pundits were calling this a giant step for man and implying that it was step back for those who believed in God. I was asked what I thought about that event. I answered, “I rejoice in every great scientific endeavor. I had tears in my eyes as I watched that first moon walk unfold. I thought, ‘if man is capable of using God’s ordained and minutely fixed laws to pull off such a stunt, what must the God who created the man and fixed the laws be like?’” That event enlarged both my conception of God himself and his creative powers.

Man studies “how” God made things, but he can never know “why” unless God reveals it. An elderly woman boils a pot of water on an electric stove. Her son, home from college, asks her if she knows why the water is boiling. He then proceeds to explain to her how electricity works. When he finishes, she replies, “Well, what do you know! I thought the water was boiling because I was planning on making a cup of tea.” Both the boy and his mother are correct. However, if we understand the “how” perfectly and miss the “why” as revealed in Scripture, we are doomed to conclude that all is “meaningless, meaningless.” This fact irks the under the sun philosopher (3:11). I confess I am not sure exactly how God made the heavens and the earth, but, because God has revealed his reasons in his Word, I can tell you why he did it (Col. 1:15-20). I think the mother’s ‘why’ answer is far more important in the eternal sense than the young man’s ‘how’ answer. The Seeker could answer nearly all of the ‘how” questions, but none of the ‘why’ questions. With all his genius and effort, man, under the sun, cannot know fully and finally the true and ultimate meaning of one single thing, and as I said earlier, this really vexes him.

Let me mention a few details that we must keep in mind as we study this book together.

One: The Seeker considers every conceivable goal that a man could possibly imagine; every reason a person could have for living; and he says, “Go ahead, and go for it. Give it all you have and I sincerely hope you make it. However, if you succeed, you will discover it was a waste of time. It was all a bubble.”

I remember visiting some friends who had a three-year old daughter and a six-year old son. The boy was blowing soap bubbles as big as watermelons. The little girl would chase the bubbles in glee and grasp them in excitement, and of course, the moment she touched one it immediately burst. Finally, in exasperation she said, “Bubba, make me a bubble that don’t break.” Yes, Bubba, let us see you make one that does not break! That is the message of Ecclesiastes. Everything that is in any way attached to time or to this world is only a bubble that can give no lasting satisfaction. There may be great joy in the pursuit and a refreshing satisfaction upon successfully creating the watermelon bubble, but it will vanish the moment you grab it. There is nothing in this world that can furnish lasting meaning and purpose. Every trophy will tarnish and catch dust. The message of “Meaningless, meaningless, all is meaningless” is the message echoed by our Lord when he said, “Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again.”

If a sinner, living in rebellion to God’s revelation of himself, can find lasting joy, satisfaction and true meaning in this world without a saving knowledge of God, then that person has defeated God, and thwarted his purposes, and beaten God at his own game!

Two: We must constantly remind ourselves that the Seeker is speaking from personal experience. He is not an armchair philosopher. He has “done the whole scene” from top to bottom and from front to back. You name it and he has tried it. You describe it and he has been there. He has ransacked the entire world trying to understand reality and find meaning and purpose in life. The Seeker seems to take man’s most hidden, radical thoughts and carefully pursues each one to its fullest potential in real life. He pushes down every wall, erases every boundary, and goes to every possible extreme to know and experience real and lasting satisfaction. Here is his conclusion: All is vanity. Every attempt fails to satisfy truly and leaves him with empty hands and a burdened heart. Each time the emptiness grows deeper and the frustration becomes more acute.

The Seeker was not engaged in weekend pursuits. He gave all of his energy and thought to try to find ultimate truth. It was the consuming passion of every hour in every day. Nothing was out of bounds in his quest.

And I set my heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all that is done under heaven; this burdensome task God has given to the sons of man, by which they may be exercised. (Eccl. 1:13 NKJV)

So I was great, and increased more than all that were before me in Jerusalem: also my wisdom remained with me. And whatsoever mine eyes desired, I kept not from them. I withheld not my heart from any joy; for my heart rejoiced in all my labor: and this was my portion of all my labor. (Eccl. 2:9, 10 KJV)

Three: The Seeker was in no way limited or restrained in his efforts. He had the resources, the time, the opportunity, and the mental and physical ability without any restraints. The message is that if this man cannot make it, no one can! This man is not an ivory tower sociologist or liberal political theorist. He speaks from personal experience. And what is the conclusion to all his efforts?

Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labor that I had labored to do: and, behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun. (Eccl 2:11 KJV)

Therefore I hated life; because the work that is wrought under the sun is grievous unto me: for all is vanity and vexation of spirit. Yea, I hated all my labor which I had taken under the sun: because I should leave it unto the man that shall be after me. (Eccl 2:17-18 KJV)

One of the constant undertones of this book is the utter frustration on every hand of being forced to admit that I am not ultimately in control of anything and I hate that fact. If ever a book exploded the myth of free will, it is the Book of Ecclesiastes.

Four: One of the problems is that, on the surface, the Seeker seems to give mixed signals. At times, we are not sure if he is serious or if he is speaking with tongue in cheek; if he is being intentionally satirical; or even if he is deliberately making fun of his readers. On the one hand, he seems to encourage us in the excellence of work and to strive to reach the top. He encourages hard work, but in the next breath, he says, “But if you reach your goal, and I sincerely hope you do, you will be bitterly disappointed every single time.” He encourages education, but quickly adds that it is a waste of time if you think that it holds the answers to the ultimate questions of life and reality.

It would be easy to dismiss his message as “sour grapes” and label him a burnt-out cynic who was mad at the world. But the man is too realistic, too “right on,” too honest, for us to say, “Well, he had a bad trip and needs a good night’s sleep.” Besides, he keeps urging us to enjoy life.

There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labor. This also I saw, that it was from the hand of God. (Eccl. 2:24 KJV)

It would be easy also to imagine that this writer was a grey-headed hippie at a pot party or a hard rock concert. However, he does not speak of his emotions as those raised by loud sounds and flashing lights. He is a clear thinker and always in control of his mind and his emotions.

I sought in mine heart to give myself unto wine, yet acquainting mine heart with wisdom; and to lay hold on folly, till I might see what was that good for the sons of men . . . (Eccl. 2:3 KJV)

He used wine as a stimulant to sharpen his senses, but he was not in any sense a drunkard. This man is a realist; in fact, it is his stark realism that is so aggravating. His world is our world—work, family, pain, misery, and death. He paints a clear and vivid picture of your life and my life. This truly is our real life!

Perhaps it would be a good idea to try to describe the Seeker’s counterpart today. Let me try to picture what the Seeker would be like if he were living in your town today. We will call him Mr. N for Nice. What would this man, Mr. N, be like today?

By far, he would be the richest man in your town and probably in the entire state. He would own the largest ranch and have a stable full of thoroughbred horses. He would have the finest herd of Herefords and the milking cows from his herd of registered Holsteins would always take the blue ribbons at the State Farm Show.

Mr. N would be a past president of every civic organization there is in your town and state. He would have been voted Man of the Year and his picture would have appeared on the cover of both Time (three times) and Newsweek. He is a scratch golfer and chairman of the Greens Committee at the most elite Country Club. He is also an elder in his church and is faithful in his attendance.

He has the best box seats for every sporting event and the opera. Mr. N is extremely down to earth and can make anyone feel comfortable. He can converse on any subject. He knows the elevators boy’s first name and always asks about his aging and ailing mother. He even sent flowers when she was in the hospital. Mr. N is a wonderful father, a loving husband, a kind and considerate employer, and a sincere and faithful friend.

In short, Mr. N is a man’s man, a woman’s dream and an enemy’s nightmare.

Imagine that Mr. N has written a book about his life and appears for a televised interview on a special Sunday morning talk show. Barbara Walters, Dan Rather, Rush Limbaugh, and Larry King take turns asking Mr. N questions. The interview would go something like this:

Barbara Walters is obviously nervous and just a bit out of breath. She says, “Mr. N, I simply cannot imagine what it must feel like to have experienced and accomplished all of the things that you have.” Mr. N interrupts: “Barbara, what in the world are you talking about?” Barbara is rather shocked and says, “I mean the fact that you are the only man who was ever on the cover of Time magazine three times. You are the only person who was ever voted as…” Again Mr. N interrupts: “Barbara, you did not read my book very carefully. I said over and over that all of those things are meaningless.” Barbara says, “But, but …” as she rattles off six more of Mr. N’s accomplishments. Mr. N gives her a look of pity and says again, “Totally meaningless, meaningless, every bit of it was all meaningless.” Barbara has nothing more to say and nods to Dan Rather.

Dan Rather, in a very serious voice says, “Mr. N, you seem to be the most pessimistic person in the whole world. Do you enjoy anything at all in life?” Mr. N, with obvious disdain in his voice, says, “Dan, I see that you, like Barbara, did not read my book or else you do not understand what you read. I enjoy every meaningless thing I do simply because there is not anything else to do. True, it has no ultimate meaning or lasting joy, but it is the only game in town.” Dan, too, is silent, and yields the floor to Rush Limbaugh.

Rush Limbaugh seems just a bit unsure of what he wants to say. “I don’t mean to be rude or impertinent, but you seem to contradict yourself. I have trouble following your book. One moment you are praising hard work and education and urging us to “go for it” and then the next minute you are trashing both.” Mr. N. “Well, I see you at least did read my book. It is too bad you did not understand what I was saying. Read it again and apply a bit more of that supposed talent you have on loan from God.” All, including Rush, laugh.

Larry King smiles and says, “Mr. N. I have five friends who are psychiatrists. No more than two of them have ever agreed on one single thing in over twenty years and yet all five said exactly the same thing about you after reading your book. They said you had a Richard Corey complex. I assume you know what that is.” Mr. N not only knows what the Richard Corey complex is, he can quote the entire famous poem from which the phrase originated. The poem goes like this:

Whenever Richard Corey went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good morning,” and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich—yes, richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Corey, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Edwin Arlington Robinson, 1869-)

That ended the interview. The Seeker, our Mr. N, is not a walking time bomb. He is not going to go home and put a bullet through his head. He will live a long life. He may appear to be a mental case to those who cannot pigeon hole him into their philosophy, but that is their problem, not his.

In our next article, we will start at verse 8 of the first chapter and describe the sure results of following the under the sun philosophy. The results are the same as those produced by the secular humanism of our day. It is amazing that the Book of Ecclesiastes was written thousands of years ago, but still describes in accurate detail the problems we face today.

To be continued.