Chuck Larsen

Solomon introduces us to his thesis in the first 11 chapters of Ecclesiastes. It’s the “vanity of vanities; everything is in vain.” All the effort man exerts to make a meaningful, significant, and satisfying life is in vain. Under the sun, there is no way to make my life matter. We are no more than dust in the wind. We’re “a drop of water in an endless sea,” and the universe couldn’t care less if we existed. Under the sun, the world will not respond in compassion to anything in our lives. It’s a kill-or-be-killed world. It is the survival of the fittest. No matter what calamity may come into our lives, the winds keep blowing, the sun rises and the sun sets, the rivers flow into the seas, and nothing about our lives will even arouse attention from the universe. It is an unfeeling, uncaring, inanimate force like the great Mississippi. It just keeps rolling along. It must know something, but it don’t say nothing, it just keeps rolling along. What does it care if the world got troubles, what does it care if the world ain’t free! That’s the Ole’ Man that I wants to be!

In Ecclesiastes 1:12-14 Solomon says, “I determined that I would examine and study all the things that are done in this world. God has laid a miserable fate upon us. I have seen everything done in this world, and I tell you, it is all useless. It is like chasing the wind.” God’s Word for Today (GWT) translation says it is “Trying to catch the wind.” The Hebrew words for wind and breath are the same. Most Hebrew scholars translate this as the breath that proceeds from your mouth on a cold morning. When you grab for the breath from your mouth, you always end with empty hands. It’s the way of trying to find meaning or purpose in all the endeavors that man has occupied himself with under the sun. None of them will bring ultimate meaning or satisfaction to our lives. It’s like trying to catch the wind.

Bertrand Russell, the atheistic philosopher who wrote the book, “Why I am not a Christian,” ended his life with a dismal awareness that he had never tasted the “bread of life.” Nor, he felt, could anyone else. In his autobiography, he said, “We stand on the shore of an ocean crying out to the night in emptiness, and sometimes a voice answers out of the darkness, but it’s the voice of one drowning, and in a moment, the silence returns.” There is no hope for man in this terrible predicament that God has laid upon us. Yet during the darkest point of Israel’s history, Jeremiah speaks for the God of all creation, who says to us, “I know the plans I have for you; declares the Lord, plans to prosper you not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” If God has meaning and purpose for His children, Israel, He has meaning and purpose for you and me. We’re not “dust in the wind.”

Solomon begins to explain his search for meaning in chapter 1 of Ecclesiastes. He begins by talking about wisdom. He thought if he just learned enough and understood the world, it would be enough to make his life meaningful. But that didn’t work. He says in Ecclesiastes 1:18, “I found out that I may as well be chasing the wind. The wiser you are, the more worries you have; the more you know, the more it hurts.” God had once offered Solomon riches, pleasure, and glory, but instead, he asked for wisdom. God was pleased with his request and granted him wisdom. There is little disagreement that Solomon, even today, is regarded as the wisest man ever. He knew that if he were to succeed as King over Israel, he would need wisdom. God blessed him with it.

Reading through the book of Proverbs, you find true wisdom on how to live a perfectly balanced life. It deals with lust, gluttony, greed, anger, and a plethora of other relationship issues of life. It teaches us how to manage finances, deal with credit, and manage our households to glean the absolute best from each dimension of our lives. It’s truly a book of wisdom. Wisdom is more than knowledge. It’s the application of knowledge to our lives. It’s instructions on how to live a disciplined and controlled life. No one did it better than Solomon did, but this wise living left him empty when it was all said and done! The more he learned, the less satisfied he became. The more he learned, the more struggles he had in life. He got tired of living the “ought to” and the “have to” and really “should” do kind of life. It left him empty. It brought no satisfaction.

I see this frustration in T. S. Elliot’s character, J. Alfred Prufrock. This character spent his whole life balancing his finances, keeping his emotions in check, never taking a chance, or entering into potential situations that might lead to failure. He was a “proof rock.” He kept a perfect daily schedule. He was a responsible, contributing citizen. He never ate too much. He had absolutely no indulgences of any kind. Yet at the end of his life, he looked back with remorse and exasperation at the wisdom and discipline he’d practiced, much like Solomon, and knew that every joyless, disciplined way that lay ahead of him would look exactly the same. The days held no promise, no hope, for him. He sighed, “I’ve known them all before. I’ve known the mornings and the evenings and the afternoons. I’ve measured out my life in coffee spoons.” He was never willing to take a chance! He was never willing to see beyond the life he was living “under the sun.” He is just like the religious leaders that Jesus encountered. They thought fulfillment would be theirs if they just kept the law. But Jesus said, “You search the law (scriptures) because you think in them you will find eternal (a meaningful) life. But it’s these very scriptures that speak of me.” In John 10:10, Jesus said, “I have come that you might experience life, and life in all its fullness.”

Living a strict, disciplined life failed to bring satisfaction to Solomon’s life. He was careful in all he did and observed every wise instruction he offered. But it left him empty. He said in Ecclesiastes 1:18, I found out it was trying to catch the wind. The wiser I was, the more worries I had. The more I learned, the heavier the burden to carry. The strict, austere life brought no purpose and meaning and left me miserable and empty inside. So he went in the complete opposite direction. He threw off all restraint and let himself indulge in every possible pleasure. He slept in. He did whatever he wanted to do whenever he wanted to do it. He pitched responsibility out the window and just had a good time. He partied a lot. He threw caution to the wind and sought all the pleasures that the wealthy life might afford him. It reminds me of the Johnny Cash song “The Wanderer.” This song was actually based on this passage, and Johnny sings, “I went out there, In search of experience, To taste and to touch and to feel as much as a man can before he repents.”

In Ecclesiastes 2:1-2 he says, “I decided to enjoy myself and find out what happiness is.” He wanted to experience all that wise living had kept from him. He says, “But I found that this is useless too.” It’s no different than any excess. “I discovered that laughter is foolish, that pleasure does you no good.” It ended at the very same dead end as the pursuit of wisdom. He got no true satisfaction in it at all. Oscar Wilde was a true “died-in-the-wool” hedonist. He claimed that pleasure was the absolute greatest good in all life. But after his great fall, he confessed (and I quote), “I let myself be lured into long spells of senseless and sensual ease. And when I was tired of being on the heights, I deliberately went to the depths in search of new sensations. I took pleasure wherever it pleased me. I ended in utter disgrace and a complete failure. I wish I had listened to those who warned me.”

Well, Oscar, Solomon had been there and done that. These passages carry with them a strong, persuasive nature. He doesn’t want us to go that route to find that pain for ourselves. He wants us to learn from his mistakes. He explained that all pleasure is madness. He actually says, “Laughter is madness.” T. M. Moore paraphrases verse 2: “I concluded that laughter and merriment for their own sakes were madness. What did they accomplish to help me find meaning and purpose in life?” Phil Ryken closes his comments on this verse by saying, “Life is no laughing matter. Some people laugh all their way to the grave, but there is nothing funny about the deathbed of someone who dies without Christ.”

Wisdom brought no satisfaction to Solomon. Pleasure brought no satisfaction to Solomon. So he moved on. Next, he tried Alcohol. Ecclesiastes 2:3 says, “I decided to cheer myself with wine and have a good time. I thought this might be the best way people can spend their short lives on earth.” Actually, this sounds like a very popular view that’s also prevalent in our culture. “Miller time” is the best time! He then went on to mention sex, materialism, power, and prestige before he wraps up the conclusion that was the same for all his endeavors. It’s found in Ecclesiastes 2:13. It’s the same conclusion his passage began with in Chapter 1, verse 14. He says, “It was like trying to catch the wind – of no use at all!” Again, the word for wind might also be translated as “breath.” If so, as many OT Scholars suggest, it would picture our attempt to grasp our breath on a cold morning.  I remember walking corn fields in late fall looking for pheasants while carrying a double-barreled 12-gauge shotgun. Your breath was so visible on those early mornings that it looked like you could grab it. But, of course, you could not.

One of the best poetic descriptions of the failure of alcohol or drugs to bring significant meaning and happiness in life was written by A. E. Houseman a century ago. Next to Rudyard Kipling’s verse, Houseman was my favorite poet. He writes, “And alcohol does more than Milton can to justify God’s ways to man. (In the preface to Paradise Lost, Milton explains that he hopes to explain why God does what He does in this world.) Alcohol, man, alcohol is the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think. Look into the pewter pot to see the world as the world’s not. And faith, ’tis pleasant till ’tis past: The mischief is that ’twill not last. Oh I have been to Ludlow fair (the place where alcohol was brewed) And left my necktie God knows where, and carried halfway home, or near, Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer: Then the world seemed none so bad, And I myself a sterling lad; And down in lovely muck I’ve lain, happy till I woke again. Then I saw the morning sky: Heigho, the tale was all a lie; the world, it was the old world yet, I was I, my things were wet; and nothing now remained to do but begin the game anew.”

Wine failed, and so did wealth. No one had the wealth that Solomon had. What exactly was Solomon’s net worth? Exactly how rich was he? One commentator argues that there has never been a human in history that had so much gold and silver. He ruled in Israel for 40 years, and it has been estimated that he brought in 1.1 billion dollars each year. The kings of Arabia and the governors of the surrounding provinces all brought tribute money to Solomon as well as nations as far away as Egypt and Ethiopia. He also collected heavy taxes from his own people. Gold, silver, ivory, apes, monkeys, and peacocks were received every three years from his business partnership with Hiram, King of Tyre. No one has ever had Solomon’s wealth. Yet it, too, left him unsatisfied. Neither wine nor wealth will make life satisfying in the long run. We’re created with a deeper need, and that’s communion with the God who made us. Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” In Him do we find purpose, meaning, and true satisfaction as we walk the trails in this valley of tears.