And remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, before the evil days come, and the years draw nigh, of which thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them;
Ecclesiastes has spent eleven chapters testing everything "under the sun" and finding it empty. Now, at the close, the Preacher turns to the young. The call is not to try harder or search further. It is to remember Someone — while the strength to do it is still there.
The verse does not just say "God." It says "Creator," and that word carries a duty. One reference work traces that title from the opening line of the Bible through to the duty it carries:
"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." Then He created all that has breath, and last of all man. Man is urged to remember his Creator in the days of his youth (Ecclesiastes 12:1)... To his Creator man owes allegiance. The Psalmist said with devotion, "let us kneel before the LORD, our Maker" (Psalm 95:6). But of the wicked the warning stands, "Woe to him who strives with him who formed him" (Isaiah 45:9).
Everything after this verse describes a body winding down. One commentator reads the whole passage as one appeal with two edges — look up early, and never forget what you are made of:
It is a moving call to set God before the soul from early days. On the other side, it is a call not to forget the frailty of fallen man, whose portion, as man, is death and judgment. Many doubt and deny that there is a picture drawn in figures here. Yet the picture seems obvious in itself, fitting for the writer, and worthy of the inspiring Spirit.
Those who have lost the chance feel it most. A writer addressing young readers puts the regret in plain terms:
Many a grey-headed old man would give everything he owns for the chance of giving God the best of his days. Yes, and strong, able men in the prime of life often regret that they did not turn to God in their youth. Oh, it is a privilege far beyond what you, my young reader, can at present understand, to be the Lord's while you are young!
The verse sets a deadline. A summary of the whole book fixes on exactly that timing:
To sum up the whole, God must be remembered, and that before weakness and old age overtake us. For the clear conclusion of all that has been said is: "Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole of man."
J. N. Darby (ESV reads "the whole duty of man.")
The decline described in the rest of the chapter carries a warning:
So sharp a picture of human decay, where the word of God is honoured, may well warn us. It is dangerous to put off the attention people like us owe Him. Fallen man is made in God's image. Yet he sinks into weaknesses more overwhelming than any of the creatures set under him in God's order. What folly, then, to put off the first wisdom of fearing God!
Ecclesiastes never uses the covenant name of God, and its message is limited by design. That limit explains the shape of this command:
He would tell the creature about the Creator. He is not sent to proclaim grace here. He is not sent here to offer salvation. But he would speak to God's creatures, who are responsible as such to Him who made them. The Creator will take notice of, and make judicial inquiry into, the actions of His creatures. No one can escape this, and everyone needs reminding of it.
The call to remember follows straight on from a warning in the previous chapter, and one commentator notes an honest problem inside it:
This advice is given in connection with the thought expressed in chapter 11:9, "God will bring you into judgment." Yet the natural man cannot obey this command.
Ecclesiastes leaves its reader facing a Creator and a judgment, with no way given across. The same writer points beyond the book's own horizon:
But turn to the gospel — the gospel of God, the gospel of His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. This gospel comes from above the sun, and it reaches down to lost man under the sun. That blessed gospel lifts man higher and higher. At last, redeemed, saved by grace, washed in the blood of the Lamb, he reaches the place above the sun.
- Maker. The word "Creator" names a debt. Everyone already owes allegiance to the God who made them.
- Moment. Remember Him early, before weakness and old age take over.
- Delay. The chapter's picture of decay is a warning: putting off the fear of God is folly, not caution.
- Reach. This book speaks to people as creatures answerable to their Maker. He makes judicial inquiry into what they do, and no one escapes it.
- More. Ecclesiastes ends with remembering the Creator. God does not end there. The gospel lifts the same man from "under the sun" to the place above it.
before the sun, and the light, and the moon, and the stars, be darkened, and the clouds return after the rain;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
in the day when the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the windows are darkened,
Solomon pictures old age as a house falling apart, with its guards shaking and its windows going dark. Readers ask what these figures stand for, and why such decay follows the call to remember your Creator while you are young.
Commentators read the failing household as a portrait of the aging human frame, part by part. One writer assigns each image to a limb or organ:
The keepers of the house (the hands) tremble with weakness, and the strong men (the knees) become feeble. Only a few of the grinders (the teeth) are left, and those that look out of the windows (the eyes) grow dark.
Some readers deny that Solomon means any picture at all. William Kelly answers them, though he grants the details are not all simple:
It is the fashion to doubt and deny that this is a picture with a hidden meaning. Yet in itself the picture seems clear. It suits the writer, and it is worthy of the Spirit who inspired him. Every detail may be hard to apply. But that is true of Scripture everywhere, so no one need be surprised that it is true here.
The verse moves through the body in order: what guards it, what holds it up, what feeds it, and what takes in the world. Kelly follows that order and draws a warning from it:
Verse 3 shows the weakness of man's parts. Some were once strong to guard him or hold him up. The weaker ones fail too, and they are needed to feed the body and to take in things great or small… Where the word of God is honoured, so sharp a description of human decay may well warn us. It is dangerous for people such as we are to put off the attention we owe Him.
Solomon could have written about man's greatness. One writer notes what he wrote about instead:
Man is pictured travelling on towards the tomb, and at the close of his life his own death proves the Preacher's words: all is vanity… While others may love to describe what man might have been, Solomon tells us what he is. He does not speak of man's greatness, or of his powers of mind or body. He writes of decay… He is a worn out vessel. His strength has decayed, his knees totter, his hands tremble, his sight fails, and his hearing is dull. Nothing that once charmed him can charm him now. He is a mere wreck of what he was, waiting for the hour when he leaves for his long home.
Solomon speaks of God here as Creator. One writer shows what that name carries with it:
He would tell the creature about the Creator. His charge here is not to proclaim grace, and he has no power here to offer salvation. He speaks to God's creatures, who as creatures are responsible to the One who made them. The Creator will take notice of what His creatures do, and He will make judicial inquiry into their actions. No one can escape this, and everyone needs the reminder.
The trembling hands and the darkened eyes are certain, so delay cannot be safe. One writer warns against leaving the question of God to later years:
It is folly to put such a question off to old age. By then your powers are weak, and delay has become a second habit. It is folly to put it off to a deathbed, when pain tears at the body and disease has drained its strength.
Ecclesiastes leaves man at the grave. One writer, commenting on this passage, looks beyond the grave:
But turn to the gospel, the gospel of God, the gospel of His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. It is the gospel from above the sun, and it reaches down to lost man under the sun. That blessed gospel lifts man higher and higher. Redeemed, saved by grace, washed in the blood of the Lamb, he reaches the place above the sun: the Father's house with its many rooms, the eternal home of the saints of God.
- The house. Commentators read the trembling keepers, the bent strong men, the few grinders and the darkened windows as the hands, knees, teeth and eyes of an aging body.
- The reading. Some deny that Solomon means a picture at all. Kelly holds that the picture is clear, though not every detail is easy to apply.
- The verdict. Solomon's closing proof that all is vanity is a portrait, not an argument. He shows man not in his greatness but in his decay.
- The claim. The name here is Creator. This book offers no grace; it presses the creature's responsibility to the One who made him and will examine his actions.
- The urgency. The decay is certain, so putting the question off to old age or a deathbed is folly. The gospel, from above the sun, carries man past the grave where the book stops.
and the doors are shut toward the street; when the sound of the grinding is subdued, and they rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of song are brought low;
In verse 4 Solomon's picture of old age turns to a world gone quiet. The street doors shut, the mill's noise fades, a bird's cry wakes the old man, and songs no longer reach him. Two questions follow. What do these images stand for, and why press such a portrait on the young?
Commentators read the whole passage as a picture drawn in symbols. They also admit that they cannot settle every detail.
It is a moving call to set God before the soul from early days. On the other hand, it calls us not to forget the frailty of fallen man, whose portion is death and judgment, as man is. It is the fashion to doubt and deny that this is an allegorical description. Yet in itself it seems obvious, suitable to the writer, and worthy of the inspiring Spirit. Every detail in the application may be difficult; but that is so true of Scripture generally that no one need wonder if it is so here.
Verse 3 has already described the body's members giving way. Verse 4 moves to a different loss — the man's place among other people, and his taste for what once pleased him.
Verse 3 shows the weakness of man's members, once strong to guard or sustain, and also the feebler ones, so necessary for nourishing the body and perceiving things great or small. Then verse 4 describes the failure of human powers for action or speech in public, or to revive what gave pleasure once.
Commentators differ over the details. One reading takes the shut doors as the ears, the faint grinding as sound the old man can no longer catch, and his rising at a bird's voice as sleeplessness.
The keepers of the house (the hands) tremble with weakness, and the strong men (the knees) become feeble. Only a few of the grinders (the teeth) are left, and those that look out of the windows (the eyes) grow dark. Then the doors are shut in the streets. The ears become dull and can no longer hear the familiar sound of the grinding at the mill. He is troubled with sleeplessness and no longer enjoys pleasure.
The verse ends with the daughters of song brought low. That loss belongs to a portrait of a creature made for far more than this.
The poetry of the description is beautiful, but its features are sad. Others may love to describe what man might have been. Solomon tells us what he is. He does not speak of his greatness, his powers of mind or body; he writes of decay. Man was created to be lord of God's creatures on earth… Now he is a worn out vessel. His strength has decayed, his knees totter, his hands tremble, his sight fails, his ears are dull of hearing. Everything that once charmed him can charm him no longer. He is a mere wreck of what he was, waiting for the hour of his departure to his long home.
The point of the portrait is timing.
Old age is no good age to repent in. A young plant moves without trouble, but it is hard to pull up an old tree that is rooted. Think of a sailor who lies idle at anchor while the ship is sound, the rigging strong, the wind fair, the sea calm. Then the ship begins to leak and the storm rises, and only now he launches out and hoists sails for a voyage. That would be a very unwise course. So is the man who neglects the time of health and strength. When old age comes and his rigging is broken, then he begins his voyage towards heaven.
The decay described here is not the end of the argument. It sets up the book's closing verdict.
Man is to remember the Creator in the days of youth. The chapter describes weakness and death: death overtakes man before he has found out true wisdom… "The whole of man" (not his duty, but the one thing for man, the one principle of life) is to "fear God and keep his commandments." God will bring every work into judgment.
- Figures. The verse is a picture, not a diagnosis. The shut doors, faint grinding and silenced songs stand for something, even if no one can settle every detail.
- Failure. Verse 4 marks lost usefulness in public and lost taste for old pleasures. The world outside grows quiet and the music no longer lands.
- Decay. Solomon does not describe what man might have been, but what he now is: a worn out vessel waiting for his long home.
- Folly. Delay is unwise sailing. No one waits for a leaking hull and broken rigging before setting out.
- Fear God. The picture drives the young to the Creator now. Death arrives before man finds true wisdom, and God brings every work into judgment.
they are also afraid of what is high, and terrors are in the way, and the almond is despised, and the grasshopper is a burden, and the caper-berry is without effect; (for man goeth to his age-long home, and the mourners go about the streets;)
Verse 5 closes a long picture of a body wearing out: fear of heights, white blossom on the almond tree, an insect that feels heavy, appetite gone. It then names where all of it leads — a man walking to his eternal home, which older translations call his "long home," while mourners fill the street.
Read alongside verses 2–4, this line traces the last stage of decline: the body can do less, fears more, and shows the visible mark of age.
Verse 5 represents the growing inability and fears and decay. The sign of old age is the white head and the shrinking from burden or effort. It shows that the grave is near, with all that goes with it. Then the inner powers all fail, the body returns to the dust it came from, and the spirit returns to Him who breathed His immortalising breath into man alone on earth. Fallen man is made in God's image. If he sinks into weaknesses more overwhelming than any creature God set under him, what folly to put off the first wisdom of fearing God!
Most writers take each figure as a picture of a failing body part.
Fears trouble him. His hair turns snow-white, like the almond tree in bloom. The least thing becomes a heavy burden, and the appetite is gone. Age has come and man is ready to go to his "age-long home."
Commentators differ on the almond image.
The word for almond comes from a root meaning "to hasten." That fits the tree, since it is the first to break into blossom, a forerunner of spring… In Ecclesiastes 12:5, when everything seems to be decaying, "the almond tree shall flourish" may instead be translated "the almond tree shall be despised." Others say "cause loathing." Others prefer to compare the almond tree to the white head of an old man hurrying to the grave.
The chapter could have celebrated human achievement. It does the opposite, and one writer draws out why that is so striking.
Others may love to describe what man might have been. Solomon tells us what he is. He does not speak of man's greatness, his powers of mind or body; he writes of decay. Man was created to be the lord of God's creation on earth… He is far weaker than many of the animals in brute strength, yet he can subdue them and make the forces of nature serve his will. What might he have been had sin not entered into the world? Now he is a worn-out vessel. His strength is gone, his knees totter, his hands tremble, his sight fails, his ears are dull of hearing. Everything that once delighted him can delight him no longer. He is a mere wreck of what he was, waiting for the hour of his departure to his long home.
The verse pairs one man leaving with a crowd left in the street. Rank changes nothing about the leaving.
We know that the moment is fast approaching when we must go to our long home, and leave the mourners to go about the streets. We may have reigned as kings, or worn the chains of slavery. The world may have honoured us, or the grand and great may have despised us. But whoever and whatever we may have been, and whatever we owned, our hold on all of it lasts only a moment as far as life on earth is concerned.
Some argue that Ecclesiastes teaches death simply ends a person. One writer answers from this verse and verse 7.
Solomon wrote of the unsatisfying portion of what was "under the sun." He used that expression twenty-seven times, declaring that all was vanity and grief of spirit. Was there then nothing ABOVE THE SUN? Did he believe that at death body and soul stopped existing, and that man perished, as if he had never been? Hear what he says: "Man goes to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets… then the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it."
The book's own horizon stops at the grave. The gospel opens another home.
But turn to the gospel — the gospel of God, the gospel of His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a gospel from above the sun, and it reaches down to lost man under the sun. That blessed gospel lifts man higher and higher. At last, redeemed, saved by grace, washed in the blood of the Lamb, he reaches the place above the sun: the Father's house with its many rooms, the eternal home of the saints of God.
- Decay — Verse 5 gathers the last signs of age: fear, frailty, the white head, no appetite left.
- Departure — Every figure points one way: a man walking to his long home while mourners fill the street.
- Dust — Whatever he was, king or slave, his hold on earth lasted a moment; the body goes back to the ground it came from.
- Destination — The spirit is not snuffed out. It returns to the God who gave it, so death raises a question about God, not just about the body.
- Deliverance — The gospel comes from "above the sun" and brings the redeemed to the Father's house — an eternal home, not just a long one.
-- before the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be shattered at the fountain, or the wheel be broken at the cistern;
Ecclesiastes closes its long look at life with four snapshots of a household breaking down. A cord snaps. A bowl smashes. A pitcher shatters at the spring. A wheel breaks at the cistern. Each picture says the same thing in a different way: the body wears out and stops. And each one stands under one small word — before.
The verse does not name death. It shows it. One commentator answers those who deny any picture-language here, and admits that some details stay unclear:
Although many now doubt and deny that there is a picture with a deeper meaning here, in itself it seems clear, suitable to the writer, and worthy of the inspiring Spirit. There may be difficulty about every detail in the application. But this is so true of Scripture in general that no one need wonder if it is so here.
Two of the four pictures come from the water supply of an ordinary home. Cisterns stored rain water, and deeper ones used a wheel and rope:
These were widely used in Palestine for collecting rain water. ... Some were really pits, since we read of the "wheel" being broken (Ecclesiastes 12:6).
The first image is closer to home. The cord stands for life itself:
THE SILVER CORD in Ecclesiastes 12:6 seems to refer to "the thread of life," which is loosed, or removed, when death happens.
Some read the four images as parts of the body shutting down one by one. That reading ends in a question:
Age has come and man is ready to go to his "age-long home." The silver cord is snapped — the spinal column. The gold bowl is broken — the brain. The pitcher is broken at the fountain — the heart. The wheel is broken at the cistern — the blood and its circulation. But if he speaks of an age-long home, what is that home? There is no answer, no light on these questions, for the natural man, even at his best, cannot find the truth for himself about that "home."
Another reading follows what each object did. A pitcher goes to the spring because thirst keeps coming back. A wheel turns at the well to keep the house in water. When both break, the daily round of need and supply ends. For the believer, a known hand ends it:
Now that hand which was pierced on the cross has loosed the silver cord that bound body and soul together. The golden bowl is broken (Ecclesiastes 12:6-7) — the casket that held the jewel. The pitcher is broken at the fountain, which points to a need that kept coming back. Dependence is now no longer required. The wheel is broken at the cistern. All activity of upkeep has now ceased; all is still! "Our earthen vessels break." So we commit the dust to the earth it came from, but the spirit returns to God who gave it.
Ecclesiastes stops at the parting of dust and spirit. The New Testament answers the question it leaves open:
In 2 Corinthians 5:8 we see with what confidence the apostle speaks about those who have died... so that we are assured that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. What security, comfort and bliss there is in that state out of the body, since it is "present with the Lord"! That is not a lifeless condition, but freed from the suffering and sorrow tied to the body, and at home with the Lord.
The images are not there to be admired. They are a deadline, and putting things off is the folly:
Where the word of God is honoured, such a sharp description of human decay may well warn us. It shows the danger of putting off the attention we owe to Him, being what we are. If fallen man, made in God's image, sinks into weaknesses more crushing than those of any creature God set under him, what folly to put off the first piece of wisdom — fearing God!
That deadline reaches your possessions as well as your soul:
Give away your silver and gold to the poor before "the silver cord is snapped, or the golden bowl is broken" (Ecclesiastes 12:6). Make your hands your executors. Do not do as some do, who hold back everything they give until life is about to end. And what is given then is not given away but taken away by death. It is not charity but necessity.
- Before — the whole verse hangs on one word. Every image sits on the far side of a deadline you cannot move.
- Cord — the silver cord is the thread of life. The wheel and cistern are ordinary household water tools. Death looks like familiar equipment breaking.
- Break — the pitcher spoke of need that kept coming back, the wheel of daily upkeep. When they break, all that ceases and all is still.
- Beyond — dust goes back to the earth and the spirit returns to God. To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.
- Now — the warning is against delay. Fear God today, and let your own hands, not your executors, do your giving.
and the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit return unto God who gave it.
Ecclesiastes closes its long search with a picture of death. In one short line the Preacher separates what dies from what does not, and says where each part goes.
The verse divides a person into two parts with two destinations. The book of Job speaks the same way.
"The preacher," speaking of death, also refers to the two parts of man — the material and the spiritual. He says, "and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it" (Ecclesiastes 12:7). Elihu refers to the material and the spiritual too. Speaking of God, he says, "If He set His heart on man, if He gathered to Himself his spirit and his breath, all flesh would perish together, and man would return to dust" (Job 34:14-15). This Scripture gives us further light, because the spirit is linked with the thought of breath. That suggests that the breath of life in Genesis 2:7 is the spirit of a man.
Human wisdom searched this out and reached only a question. Verse 7 answers it.
This is not a man taught by the Spirit. The Spirit of God leads in no such path. The result is that, when a man searches by human wisdom, the grave into which all go stays a mystery he cannot see into. Men die as the beast dies. They have one breath, one ruach, and they go to the dust alike. As to what is beyond, no mere human knowledge can pierce it: who knows the spirit of man that goes upward, or the spirit of the beast that goes downward to the earth? That word, ruach, means either breath or spirit, and it suits the doubtful questioning of the passage. But this is the uncertainty of mere human knowledge. The Spirit of God could not doubt or question… he says finally and clearly that the spirit of man does not "go downward to the earth."
Death can look like the end of the whole person. The word "returns" says otherwise, and it teaches two things.
Here we have the truth — not that the spirit ceases to exist at the death of the body, but that it returns to the God who gave it. That teaches two things. The spirit lives on after death. And it does not depend on the body to keep existing; it is responsible to the One who gave it.
The dust goes back to the earth "as it was." The verse does not say that of the spirit.
Now if that is the conclusion of the whole matter, does it look as though the matter he drew it from ends with the blank silence of the grave? Rather, does it not show plainly what that return of the dust to the earth "as it was" is for? It is only what brings the spirit into the presence of the God who gave it — not "as it was," but with the character it gained in its earthly tent.
Another writer follows the same line back to where a man's life began.
Finally: man came from God's hand at his creation. God sustains his life as long as he lives, for in God "we live and move and have our being." At death the spirit will return to the God who gave it, and then we must give an account to Him.
The verse names God as the destination. One writer says more about what this spirit is, and about who receives it.
The spirit is a person's highest part, and it links him with God. It gives the body life and controls it, and it comes from God Himself; without it the body is "dead" (James 2:26). At death it returns to God who gave it. For the believer, the Lord Jesus receives it (Acts 7:59), and it stays conscious apart from the body (Hebrews 12:23)… Death is separation: never extinction.
Verse 7 closes a long picture of a body wearing out.
The sign of old age is the grey head and the shrinking from burden or effort. It marks the approach of the grave and all that comes with it. The inner powers all fail, the body returns to the dust it belongs to, and the spirit goes to Him who breathed into man alone on earth the breath that makes him immortal. Where the word of God is honoured, so sharp a description of human decay may well warn us. For people like us, putting off the attention we owe Him is a real danger.
- Given. The spirit was never the body's own property; it was God's gift, breathed into man alone on earth.
- Divided. Death splits the man in two — the dust goes down to the earth it came from, the spirit goes up.
- Kept. "Returns" means the spirit survives; it does not depend on the body to keep existing.
- Answerable. The spirit does not come back as it went out. It carries the character it gained in life, and an account to give.
- Urgent. The Preacher sets this at the end of a picture of decay so the living will not put off what they owe God.
Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher all is vanity.
The Preacher's search ends with the same verdict it opened with, and only then does he turn to his closing charge. Why does the wisest and richest of kings finish where he started? And what did the journey gain him?
Solomon's closing verdict is not a new discovery. It is where the book began.
The vanities of life, and the doom and darkness of the grave, fill his mind. The last word he speaks before his epilogue is the same word he began his search with — the search that brought out so many things, yet nothing real. As at the beginning of the book, so now he cries out, "Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity" (verse 8). He has come back in all his reasoning to the place from which he started.
"Vanity" here pictures something too short-lived to hold. Beside it stands a title Solomon uses nowhere else in Scripture.
"Vanity of vanities" — a mere breath, a vapour passing over the earth, short-lived in its existence. That is the recorded experience of the son of David, king in Jerusalem. It is true not of some things, but of all — "all is vanity," says the Preacher. Here he takes a title found nowhere else outside this book — Preacher. He would gather around him those who wanted to hear, and teach them, for that is the meaning of the term.
Ecclesiastes traces an unhappiness rather than guilt. The man best equipped to be happy felt it most.
This book does not deal with guilt, as Psalm 32 and Psalm 51 do. It deals with the unhappiness of a man whose heart does not rise above created things. The fullest means, the highest ability, the highest rank, the most active mind, the most cultivated taste — yes, and wisdom above all men — only make the dissatisfaction and the misery sharper. Solomon was the man to feel this when he turned away from God. He was also the man to give us the profit of it, when grace led him to review it all and pass it on as a lasting warning.
Verse 8 follows the long picture of a body wearing out. That decay is the last piece of evidence: the man himself proves his own case.
God created man in His own image, not subject to death. Solomon pictures him travelling on towards the tomb. He learns as he goes that everything around him done under the sun is vanity. Then, at the close of his life, his own death gives the most convincing proof that the Preacher's statement is accurate — "all is vanity." … He is a worn-out vessel. His strength is gone, his knees totter, his hands tremble, his sight and hearing fail. What once charmed him can charm him no longer. He is a mere wreck of what he was, waiting for the hour of his departure to his long home. Who will wonder that the burden he began with is the burden he ends with?
The problem was never that Solomon's supply ran short. It was that no created thing is large enough for what a person is.
No human object could satisfy an immortal soul, nor could a dying man find rest in things he must die and leave behind. … As someone has said: in Ecclesiastes the heart was too great for the object; in Song of Solomon the object is too great for the heart. We need a large enough capacity to enjoy God Himself — a capacity that only God can give and only God can fill.
Verse 8 closes the search, but not the book. The ground now changes: from what man can find out to what he must do.
In Ecclesiastes 12:8 the philosopher's fumbling search under the sun is over. He comes back to his starting point: "Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity." A clear new division follows. Sinful man should not expect happiness except in God. "The whole of man" (not his duty, but the one thing for man, the one principle of life) is to "fear God and keep his commandments." … There is no question in this book of grace or of redemption. The puzzles of the world can only be solved, or peacefully left unsolved, by the wisdom that comes from above.
The Preacher's search never rose above the sun. The gospel comes from above it.
But now turn to the gospel — the gospel of God, the gospel of His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. It comes from above the sun and reaches down to lost man under the sun. That blessed gospel lifts man higher and higher. Redeemed, saved by grace, washed in the blood of the Lamb, he reaches the place above the sun.
- Breath. "Vanity" means a vapour, short-lived — not some things, but all of them.
- Circle. The search ends at its starting point: everything gathered under the sun adds up to nothing kept.
- Proof. The decay of verses 1–7 is the argument's last evidence; a man's own death confirms the Preacher's word.
- Capacity. The heart is too great for anything the world offers, and only God can fill what only God can give.
- Beyond. Under the sun the verdict stands; the answer comes from above it — fear God, and the gospel that lifts man there.