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.
And moreover, because the Preacher was wise, he still taught the people knowledge; and he pondered, and sought out, [and] set in order many proverbs.
Ecclesiastes has just come back to where it began: everything under the sun is vanity. Then the writer steps back and speaks of himself in the third person. He describes not his conclusions but his craft. Who is this Preacher, what work lay behind the book, and how far can the wisdom he collected actually carry a reader?
The detail about arranging proverbs is one clue to who wrote the book. Commentators read it next to chapter 1 and the record of Solomon's reign.
In Ecclesiastes chapter 1:1, 12 the author calls himself son of David and king in Jerusalem. In verse 16 he speaks of his great wisdom, which according to 1 Kings 3:12; 4:2 and following; 10:1 only King Solomon had. In Ecclesiastes 12:9 he mentions that he set in order many proverbs. This fact also speaks for Solomon only (see 1 Kings 4:32; Proverbs 1:1).
The book itself reads as the work of a man near the end of his life.
The boundary of Solomon's horizon is the sun. Beneath it he calls everything "Vanity." Read the book, and you will say Solomon wrote it at the close of his reign, in the evening of his life.
The verse opens by calling him wise. That wisdom was not self-made; it was handed to him, and it outstripped everything around him.
He preached about wisdom, set against the "vanity of vanities" that marks everything beneath the sun. The wisdom of God was in this royal preacher (1 Kings 3:28). God gave him wisdom and understanding beyond measure. Moses had learned all the wisdom of Egypt, but Solomon's wisdom went beyond even that (1 Kings 4:29-30).
The "many proverbs" he arranged are a set kind of saying. The Hebrew word behind them shows what that kind is.
The word usually translated "proverb," and used for the Book of Proverbs, is mashal. It means "comparison, likeness." Proverbs are short sentences designed to catch attention and stay in the memory (Deuteronomy 28:37; 1 Samuel 24:13; Proverbs 1:1; Ecclesiastes 12:9; Isaiah 14:4).
Weighing, studying, arranging — the verse describes effort, not sudden inspiration. Commentators take this as a pattern for anyone who speaks to others for God.
There is a right fitting of words to such an end, and we must not overlook it. Only a wisdom born of love can supply that skill. And that wisdom does not despise hard work in reaching its goals (Ecclesiastes 12:9).
Another writer warns what happens when a speaker skips that work.
Preach wisely. The preacher was wise, and he sought to find acceptable words (Ecclesiastes 12:9-10). Do not serve rough, loose, half-prepared material in a sloppy way. The cook's untidiness may turn the guests' stomachs.
His wisdom was not kept private. What he gave the people was knowledge of God set against the ruin of man — though within limits.
But among all that spoke of vanity, he touched on another subject: being wise, he taught the people. He had spoken at length about man and his works. He speaks briefly about God and what He does… He would tell the creature about the Creator. He is not sent here to proclaim grace. He is not given power here to offer salvation. But he would speak to God's creatures, who are responsible to the One who made them.
The teacher's own life shows what wise sayings cannot do.
Moral maxims, such as those we owe to this old-time preacher, are of immense value. But they have no power to regenerate or to save. Solomon himself, the wisest of men, fell victim to folly and in the end turned to idolatry.
The closing verses reach the top of what human wisdom can climb — and leave the climber stranded.
This is great wisdom, but does it help man? Does it bring comfort to his soul?… And this masterful conclusion of the royal searcher still leaves God and man apart, without even the faintest glimmer of light. Man is a sinner. How can his sins be forgiven?
- Given wisdom. Commentators identify the Preacher as Solomon. God gave him the wisdom this verse names, and it went beyond all the wisdom around him.
- Worked wisdom. He pondered, sought out and arranged. Care and skill in choosing words are part of teaching, not beneath it.
- Shaped wisdom. Proverbs are comparisons — short sayings built to catch attention and stick in the memory.
- Shared wisdom. Because he was wise, he taught the people. He told the creature about the Creator, but his task here was not to offer grace or salvation.
- Limited wisdom. Wise sayings have great value, but they cannot save. The wisest man fell, and the book's own conclusion still leaves God and man apart.
The Preacher sought to find out acceptable words; and that which was written is upright, words of truth.
The last verses of Ecclesiastes turn from the Preacher's search to the way he wrote it down. He tells us his method: he hunted for words that would please his hearers, and what he set down was straight and true.
Words have to be fitted to their aim, and that takes work. One writer names what the fitting requires:
There is a right fitting of words to that end, and it must not be overlooked. It is a skill that only a wisdom born of love can supply. And it is a skill that does not despise diligence in reaching its aim.
"Words of delight" and "words of truth" stand in the same sentence. One writer on preaching keeps both: manner matters, but the power is in the Word:
The power of gospel preaching rests in the Word of God; it has nothing to do with technique. That does not mean the preacher can ignore the way he does his work. He is to seek out acceptable words, "even words of truth" (Eccl. 12:10). He is not to throw a bundle of pious clichés at his hearers with no spiritual thought or preparation. Instead he is to be wise and win souls (Prov. 11:30).
Note: where older translations read "acceptable words," the ESV has "words of delight."
Seeking out words rules out careless work. One writer makes the point with a picture from the kitchen:
Preach wisely. "Because the preacher was wise, he … sought to find out acceptable words" (Eccles. 12:9-10). Not rough, loose, half-digested material, thrown together in a careless way — the dirtiness of the cook may turn the stomachs of the guests.
Fitting words also means fitting them to the people in front of you:
The word of God is too sacred, and preaching too serious a work, to be toyed and played with. Yet some do just that, making a sermon nothing but a matter of wit and fine speaking. Their sermon is like a child's doll: take away its dress and the rest is worth nothing. It is well indeed when the people can keep pace with the preacher. To preach truths and ideas above what the hearers can take in is like a nurse feeding a child with a spoon too big for its mouth.
The words the Preacher found were pleasing, yet his book is heavy. One writer asks why:
But why this cry of the Preacher who "sought to find out acceptable words"? And why does he view things so mournfully? The secret comes out. "A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever." The earth remains; man does not. So comes the question that needs no answer: "What profit?"
But this verdict is not just one man's bad mood:
Solomon is the writer. He goes through his experience of wisdom, riches, labour, and everything his heart as a man could desire (and who can come after the king?). He records it by inspiration. So when he proves it all to be nothing but vanity and a striving after wind, this is not the mere talk of a disappointed man. It is conviction recorded by God.
Note: older translations say "vexation of spirit" here; the ESV says "a striving after wind."
A hearer can refuse words chosen with all this care. One writer puts the fault with the hearer, not the words:
In an age of growing self-satisfaction, men trust their own reasoning. No wonder they think themselves fit to question the wisdom of the Preacher, and his acceptable words. For such people the words of the wise cannot be goads. Their fatal self-sufficiency turns those words into pitfalls or stumbling-blocks. To the faithful they are words of truth, and the collections of them are like nails fastened in.
Where people take them in, the search reaches its aim — the words stay put:
He was wise also in the way he prepared his messages. He "sought to find out acceptable words," so that what he "taught the people" would stay with them, as firmly fastened nails stay in the wood they are driven into.
- Sought. The wise Preacher worked at his words — a skill born of love that does not despise diligence.
- Suited. Fit the words to the hearer: no wit dressed up as a sermon, and no truth served in spoonfuls too big for the mouth.
- Sincere. Pleasing never means softened. He wrote what was upright — "words of truth" — and the power stays in the Word, not in technique.
- Sure. God recorded his verdict of vanity by inspiration. So it is settled conviction, not one disappointed man's complaint.
- Settled. Take such words in faith and they hold like nails driven home. Meet them with self-sufficiency and they turn into stumbling-blocks instead of goads.