Ecclesiastes 2:1–26

The word "vanity" means that which soon vanishes, nothingness. It is often joined to "vexation of spirit" — literally, pursuit of the wind. Ecclesiastes is occupied with earthly things, with what man does apart from God — that is, the natural man. The book describes the things under the sun. It shows that everything man does, his pursuits, his labours, whatever he undertakes and all that goes with it, is nothing but vanity and a chasing after wind. It is always unsatisfying and full of sorrow and perplexity. The writer makes it clear that in all his searching he does not depend on divine revelation, on what is above the sun. He reaches his results by the light nature gives. His resources are within himself. The phrase "I communed with my own heart" occurs seven times in the book and confirms this.

The whole passage is what Solomon tells us he "said in his heart" at a certain time. It is not divine revelation, but human doubt: the questioning of man's mind while speculating about the mystery of existence.

He said in his heart, "Come now, I will test you" — that is, I will try now to satisfy you, that is, myself, my heart. He said to himself, "enjoy yourself." He laughed and had mirth; he tried wine, laid hold on folly. Then he made great works. He built houses, planted vineyards, and laid out beautiful gardens with fruit trees and all kinds of shrubbery. They had pools of water, springs and waterfalls — all so pleasing to the eye. To all this he added servants and maidens, with great possessions.

Thank God, before Solomon ended his career his eyes were opened. He was led to write this striking book, and in it he records the results of the experiment. He was not inspired in doing what he did, but he was certainly inspired to put on record the result of the experiment. Listen to what he says: I have investigated on a grand scale, on a scale others can never touch. Others might have one per cent of it. I have had the whole hundred per cent. The verdict is, there is not a bit of profit in it.

In Ecclesiastes Solomon tells us he went in for mirth and pleasure. People are pleasure-mad nowadays, but they do not look happy. Solomon says of such laughter, "It is mad" — so it is. "For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fools." The crackling of thorns does not last long, and the pleasures of sin last only a season. How foolish to forget God, the soul, eternity.

But then he said, I am going "to know madness and folly." If there is any pleasure in a thing, I am in for it. He turned to wine — a dangerous thing. He married wives. He carried out great works. He gathered riches. He not only sipped but drank deeply of every sparkling cup. He tried every imaginable pleasure. He not only ruined his testimony, but very largely wrecked his kingdom. In all this self-gratification he heaped up every delightful thing and made everything serve himself. His aim was to be able to say that he had become great.

Solomon says that all the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not full. The sea is the human heart. Send every river of earthly pleasure into those discontented hearts. They would still stay unfilled and unsatisfied. Men hunt for satisfaction where it never can be found. An iceberg yields no heat, salt no sweetness, and wine cannot be pressed from turnips. Man's heart was made for God, and only God, in Christ, can fill and satisfy it.

This is the experience of a man who keeps his wisdom, so that he can judge everything. He tries everything under the sun that might be thought able to make men happy. He enjoys everything the human mind can imagine as a means of joy. The result of this trial was the discovery that all is vanity and frustration of spirit. Every effort to be happy by owning the earth, whatever the way, ends in nothing. There is a worm eating at the root. The greater the capacity for enjoyment, the deeper and wider the disappointment and frustration of spirit.

He experimented, so to speak, with what belongs to the natural man, a fallen nature. That nature holds three things: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life. We can trace these three things in the opening verses. The lust of the flesh in verses 1-3; the lust of the eyes in verses 4-6, and the pride of life in verses 7-8. He said in his heart, "Come now, I will test you": that is, I will try now to satisfy you, that is myself, my heart. He said to himself, "enjoy pleasure." He laughed and had mirth; he tried wine, laid hold on folly.

In Ecclesiastes Solomon tells us he went in for mirth and pleasure. People are pleasure mad nowadays, but they do not look happy. Solomon says of such laughter, "It is MAD," so it is. "As the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fools." Thorns do not crackle for long, and the pleasures of sin last only for a season. How foolish to forget God, the soul, eternity.

The heart of man is too large for this world to fill. Its capacities are too vast for everything under the heavens to satisfy… But suppose a man reached every object he desired and had everything — what would he gain? Only a deeper sense that all is vanity, that earthly good has no power to fill the aching emptiness within. All worldly pleasures, amusements, indulgences and gratifications leave the soul more thirsty than ever: they cannot satisfy. Excitement is the right name for worldly pleasures — take that away, and they would prove a most burdensome task.

Such was the wide range of pleasures, intellectual and sensual, that he explored. He held back no joy. Yet while he entered so keenly into all that he describes, he tells us his wisdom remained with him. So he was well able to judge what all this was worth, from his own experience and from the wisdom that never left him. Would not such a man be satisfied with what this life offered? If others less favoured were disappointed, he at least had his fill of everything he desired.

It is truly a dreary world of grief, where man seeks pleasure and mirth in place of happiness. That happiness cannot exist where the conscience is not purged in a divine way, and where the heart does not have Christ before it — God's object, and ours too.

The first two or three verses give the subject of this book. "Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity. What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?" This expression "under the sun" occurs no less than twenty-eight times in the twelve chapters, and gives the character of the book. It describes life "in Adam," and seeks an answer to the questions, What is best for man? how should he spend his life to be happy on earth? The writer speaks as a human philosopher in his wanderings. Sometimes he gets near the truth, at other times he is far from it. So some passages state man's false conclusions. The last two verses answer the searchings of Ecclesiastes 1:13 and 2:3.

This is the experience of a man who keeps his wisdom, so that he can judge everything. He tries out everything under the sun that people might think could make them happy… The effect of this trial was the discovery that all is vanity and vexation of spirit; that every effort to be happy in possessing the earth, in whatever way it may be, ends in nothing. There is a worm eating at the root. The greater a man's capacity to enjoy, the deeper and wider his disappointment and grief of spirit.

Did Solomon not know this without having to learn it by experience? Yet here again he ignored his mother's advice, as Ecclesiastes 2:3 tells us, and learned by painful experience that she was right… Wine stands for anything that only excites or stimulates for a time. Pleasure can intoxicate a man, as it did Solomon for a while. So can personal pride, money-making, and the many other things that stir the desires of the flesh. They can affect his thoughts so much that sound, sober judgment fails for a time.

We have known young Christians to go secretly to dances, theatres and worse places, to gain experience. How terrible! To eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and EVIL only brought evil results, and it will ever do so. Whoever goes in for sin (for just this once, not much harm in it, don't mean to practise it) does so at his or her peril. On these very lines Solomon in his happier days asks, "Can a man carry fire next to his chest and his clothes not be burned?"

But then he said, I am going "to know madness and folly." If there is any pleasure in a thing, I am in for it. He turned to wine — a dangerous thing. He married wives. He built great works. He gathered riches. He did not just sip; he drank deeply from every sparkling cup. He tried every imaginable pleasure. He ruined his testimony, and wrecked much of his kingdom too. All this self-pleasing, all this piling up of every delightful thing, all this making everything serve himself — his aim was to be able to say, "So I was great."

Thank God! there is One who can still the hunger and thirst of the soul, who graciously invites, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink."

So he tries mirth next, a natural relief for those who are bitter in soul, as we hear in Proverbs 31. It was all in vain, and the feeling of disappointment returns (Ecclesiastes 2:1-3). Might not activity in great works succeed better? Solomon tried this and carried it out with extraordinary effort and splendour. But he looked back over all the work he did and the toil he toiled, and he could rest in none of it. It was all vanity and a striving after wind, with no profit under the sun.

Here we find first of all the king's personal experience. He experimented, so to speak, with what belongs to the natural man, a fallen nature. That nature holds three things: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life. We can trace these three things in the opening verses. The lust of the flesh in verses 1-3; the lust of the eyes in verses 4-6, and the pride of life in verses 7-8… Then he made great works, built houses and planted vineyards. He laid out beautiful gardens with fruit trees and all kinds of shrubs, with pools of water, springs and waterfalls. It was all so pleasing to the eye — the lust of the eyes.

The result was that Solomon became extremely selfish. This too comes out in Ecclesiastes 2. Read the passage again, and notice how he puts it: "I made me… I built me… I planted me… I got me… I gathered me… So I was great." His life became one of self-gratification. It went so far that he might have said, "For me to live is — SELF." And the Apostle Paul? Well, in Philippians again we have his word, "For to me to live is — CHRIST" (Phil. 1:21). There is no greater contrast than a life lived for self and a life lived for Christ.

Ecclesiastes 2 is Solomon's "I" chapter: that personal pronoun occurs 16 times in the first 9 verses: a true chapter of the self-gratified "I."

In Ecclesiastes, Solomon says, "There is no good thing under the sun"; "All is vanity and a striving after wind." Why so? To him, self was seeking its own satisfaction. Here, then, was no rest, no peace; it could not be otherwise. No human object could satisfy an immortal soul, nor could a dying man get rest in what he was to die out of. Yet, when thinking of himself, it was all I, I, I — I did it, and I found it vanity… As someone has said, in Ecclesiastes the heart was too great for the object. In the Song of Songs the object is too great for the heart.

Solomon tells us in his own words of the many public works he took an interest in. Houses, vineyards, gardens, orchards, and so on — never had the nation seen the like! … But there was no satisfaction for his heart… He built new cities and rebuilt others (1 Kings 9:17-19). But all this meant heavy taxation. In time the people groaned under the burden. Solomon groaned with a disappointed heart.

Solomon says in Ecclesiastes 2:4: "I made great works. I built houses and planted vineyards for myself." Ahab could have said the same. But what blessing did he get out of it all?

Thank God, before Solomon ended his career his eyes were opened and he was led to write this striking book in which he puts on record the results of the experiment… Listen to what he says: I have investigated on a grand scale — on a scale that others can never touch — others might have one per cent of it — I have had the whole hundred per cent, and the verdict is, there is not a bit of profit in it. There is "no profit under the sun."

Thank God! there is One who can still the hunger and thirst of the soul. He graciously invites, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink."

"Paradise" is an Eastern word for a "park" or "pleasure-grounds." The Hebrew word pardes appears only in Nehemiah 2:8, Ecclesiastes 2:5 and Song of Songs 4:13. It is translated there once as "forest" and twice as "orchard." Hebrew does not use it for the garden of Eden; there the ordinary word for "garden," gan, appears. The Greek translation of the Old Testament, however, gives paradeisos (paradise) here. That is almost always the word it uses for the Garden of Eden, or of God. The New Testament use comes from that Greek version, but with a higher meaning: "today you will be with me in paradise" (Luke 23:43), and "the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God" (Revelation 2:7).

Here we find first of all the king's personal experience. He experimented, so to speak, with what belongs to the natural man, a fallen nature. That nature holds three things: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life. We can trace these three things in the opening verses. The lust of the flesh is in verses 1-3. The lust of the eyes is in verses 4-6. The pride of life is in verses 7-8. … Then he made great works, built houses, planted vineyards, laid out beautiful gardens with fruit trees, all kinds of shrubbery, with pools of water, springs and waterfalls — all so pleasing to the eye — the lust of the eyes.

As God first created him, man was meant to find pure delight on earth. He had a nature able to enjoy, a mind able to learn and grow, and a body able to work. Everything around him would have given him pleasure, or the chance to develop all his powers. Is that the case now? … Man is like a beautiful ruin. Traces of exquisite workmanship remain here and there, and by them we can contrast the architect's clear design with the building's present state. So in man's feelings and powers we can see what he was first capable of, though we must admit he is a wreck.

Might not activity in great works succeed better? Solomon tried this and carried it out with extraordinary care and splendour. But he looked back over all the work he did and the toil he toiled, and he could rest in none of it. The whole was vanity and a striving after wind, and no profit under the sun.

He was not inspired in doing what he did, but he was certainly inspired to put the result of the experiment on record. Listen to what he says: I have investigated on a grand scale — on a scale that others can never touch. Others might have one per cent of it. I have had the whole hundred per cent, and the verdict is, there is not a bit of profit in it.

Solomon says, "All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full" (Ecclesiastes 1:7). The sea is the human heart. Pour every river of earthly pleasure into those discontented hearts, and they would still remain unfilled and unsatisfied. Men hunt for satisfaction where it never can be found. An iceberg yields no heat, salt no sweetness, and wine cannot be pressed from turnips. Man's heart was made for God, and only God, in Christ, can fill and satisfy it.

Thank God! There is One who can still the hunger and thirst of the soul. He graciously invites, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink."

Ecclesiastes 2 is Solomon's "I" chapter: that personal pronoun occurs 16 times in the first 9 verses — a true chapter of the self-gratified "I."

He experimented with what belongs to the natural man, a fallen nature. In that nature there are three things: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life. The lust of the flesh is in verses 1-3. The lust of the eyes is in verses 4-6. The pride of life is in verses 7-8… Then he made great works, built houses, planted vineyards, laid out beautiful gardens with fruit trees and all kinds of shrubbery, with pools of water, springs and waterfalls — all so pleasing to the eye.

Might not activity in great works succeed better? Solomon tried this and carried it out with extraordinary diligence and splendour. But when he looked back over all the work he had done and all the toil it cost him, he could rest in none of it. The whole thing was vanity and frustration of spirit, with no profit under the sun.

He brought out of that earthly paradise a craving for beautiful surroundings, and he has worked without stopping to get them. But if God's garden did not satisfy him, his own certainly cannot. And in his own garden there is always a tomb to mock his best efforts.

The misery of it is just this. A man has laboured for years, and he naturally expects to enjoy what he, not others, has piled up. But death comes in and takes him away, so he leaves all the fruit of his labour for another to enjoy.

It was not like this before sin entered the world. On the contrary, God saw everything that He had made, and it was very good. Once sin was there, God made the evil felt. The result is laid bare here by the clearest picture of the One who will yet come in power, glory and righteousness, and bring the days of heaven on the earth.

In it I see one way, but one only, open to us as an escape from the condition and from the sense of a universal vanity. We are "shut up" to it… Faith in Jesus, says the apostle, is the one and only outlet from a state of condemnation. Living to Jesus, says the Book of Ecclesiastes, is the one and only outlet from a state of vanity.

Thank God, there is One who can still the hunger and thirst of the soul. He kindly invites, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink."

Solomon was lifted high, so that from his position and resources he could inspect and test the vanity of all human conditions. Everything that business or pleasure could provide for him was within his reach. So was everything that wealth, position, or learning commanded. And he challenged it all to say what it was worth.

He experimented, so to speak, with what belongs to the natural man, a fallen nature. That nature holds three things: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life. We can trace these three things in the opening verses. The lust of the flesh comes in verses 1-3. The lust of the eyes in verses 4-6. The pride of life in verses 7-8… To all this he added servants and maidens, with great possessions.

Solomon pressed the Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, and others left in the land into service (1 Kings 9:20). He built new cities and rebuilt others (1 Kings 9:17-19). But all this meant heavy taxation. In time the people groaned under the burden, while Solomon groaned with heart disappointment. The load of taxation probably made the people ask Rehoboam to make their service less harsh and their yoke lighter (1 Kings 12:4). Men will not complain like that when the Lord reigns in Zion.

He turned to wine — a dangerous thing. He married wives. He carried out great works. He gathered riches. He did not only sip; he drank deeply from every sparkling cup. He tried every pleasure he could imagine. He not only ruined his testimony; he wrecked much of his kingdom too. He heaped up every delightful thing for himself and made everything serve himself. His aim in all this self-gratification was to be able to say, "So I was great."

He multiplied horses and wives and riches. He did the three things the king was told not to do, and did them openly and without shame. All this building up of self rests on one idea: that the way to live is to get everything possible for your own pleasure. The consequence is solemn. It traps you in disobedience, and you forfeit the support of God. Solomon did not act in ignorance of God's Word. It was simply staring him in the face, which made what he did all the more shocking.

Might activity in great works do better? Solomon attempted this and carried it out with extraordinary diligence and splendour. But then he reviewed all the work he had done and all the toil it had cost him. He could rest in none of it. The whole thing was vanity, a chasing after the wind, with nothing to be gained under the sun (verses 4-11).

To him, self was seeking its own satisfaction. So here was no rest, no peace; it could not be otherwise. No human object could satisfy an immortal soul, and a dying man could get no rest in something he was going to die out of. When he thought of himself, it was all I, I, I — I did it, and I found it vanity. But in the Song of Songs we see all his blessedness, because there he speaks of Christ being everything to him. As someone has said: in Ecclesiastes the heart was too great for the object; in the Song the object is too great for the heart.

Ecclesiastes 2:8 is the one exception, where Solomon gathers "the peculiar treasure of kings." Everywhere else, in the Old Testament and in the New Testament, these expressions refer to what God's people are to Him: Exodus 19:5; Deuteronomy 14:2; Psalm 135:4; Titus 2:14. The terms describe a possession of specially choice value.

In that fallen nature there are three things: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life. We can trace all three in the opening verses. The lust of the flesh comes in verses 1-3, the lust of the eyes in verses 4-6, and the pride of life in verses 7-8… He gathered silver and gold and treasures that only kings could get. These were gifts, probably from other rulers, perhaps the ones the Queen of Sheba brought. He also paid attention to music, had men singers, women singers, and an orchestra. Then, self-satisfied, he leans back and says, "So I was great."

…the delights of the sons of men, that is, musical instruments of all sorts [or, as it may also be translated, and perhaps more correctly, "a wife and wives," that is, many wives].

He multiplied horses and wives and riches. He openly did the three things the king was told not to do. All this self-glorifying rests on the idea that the way to live is to get everything you can for your own pleasure. The result is solemn. You are trapped into disobedience and you lose the support of God. Solomon did not act in ignorance of God's Word. It was staring him in the face, so what he did was outrageous.

The result was that Solomon became very selfish. This too comes out clearly in Ecclesiastes 2. Read the passage again, and note how he puts it: "I made me… I built me… I planted me… I got me… I gathered me… So I was great." His life became one of self-gratification. He might almost have said, "For me to live is — SELF." And the Apostle Paul? In Philippians we have his word, "For to me to live is — CHRIST" (Philippians 1:21). Nothing contrasts more sharply than a life lived for self and a life lived for Christ.

Thank God, before Solomon ended his career his eyes were opened. He was led to write this striking book, which records the results of the experiment. God did not inspire him in doing what he did, but He did inspire him to record the result. Listen to what he says: I have investigated on a grand scale, a scale that others can never touch. Others might have one per cent of it; I have had the whole hundred per cent. The verdict is that there is not a bit of profit in it. There is "no profit under the sun."

You could pour every river of earthly pleasure into discontented human hearts, and they would still be empty and unsatisfied. Men hunt for satisfaction where it never can be found. An iceberg yields no heat, salt no sweetness, and wine cannot be pressed from turnips. Man's heart was made for God, and only God, in Christ, can fill and satisfy it. Riches, fame, pleasure, all fail to bring contentment to the heart.

So much for Solomon's wisdom. But then he said, I am going "to know madness and folly." If there is any pleasure in a thing, I am in for it. He turned to wine — a dangerous thing. He married wives. He carried out great works. He gathered riches. He did not only sip; he drank deeply of every sparkling cup. He tried every imaginable pleasure. He not only ruined his testimony; he wrecked much of his kingdom. All this self-indulgence, all this piling up of every delightful thing, made everything serve himself. His aim was to be able to say, "So I became great."

Such was the wide range of pleasures, intellectual and physical, that he explored. He held back no joy from himself. Yet even while he threw himself into all that he describes, he tells us his wisdom remained with him. So he was fully able to judge what all this was worth. He had lived it, and his wisdom never left him. Would not such a man be satisfied with what this life could give? If others less favoured were disappointed, he at least had his fill of everything he desired.

Here we find first of all the king's personal experience. He experimented, so to speak, with what belongs to the natural man, a fallen nature. In that nature are found three things: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life. We can trace these three things in the opening verses… Then he made great works. He built houses, planted vineyards, and laid out beautiful gardens with fruit trees and all kinds of shrubbery. He added pools of water, springs and waterfalls — all so pleasing to the eye — the lust of the eyes. To all this he added male and female servants, with great possessions… Then he leans back, self-satisfied, and says, "So I became great and surpassed all who were before me in Jerusalem. Also my wisdom remained with me."

What gives special point to it is the personal position of the Preacher. Could anyone look at man as he is on the earth and be free from the sense of misery? If anyone could, we would have expected it to be king Solomon. It is his appraisal in the Spirit which lies before us, so that faith might profit by all he tells. It does not come from any lack of power, interest, or research, or from any lack of ability or resources… The sense of its emptiness, and the sorrow over its evil, ran all the deeper in the man who could best appreciate it all.

Now godliness means this: being conscious of God, living under the eye of God, having God as the trust and the glory of our hearts. Godliness, with the contentment that flows from it, is great gain.

Solomon's own folly soon put out the blaze of his glory. Even so, it already reminds us that "a greater than Solomon" is in the mind and purpose of God.

Notice that when Solomon wrote about his rejoicing he used the past tense. He did not say, "my heart rejoices," but, "my heart rejoiced." Then we look at the very next verse, and we find him saying, "All was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun." His disillusionment was complete.

Thank God, before Solomon ended his career God opened his eyes and led him to write this striking book. In it he puts on record the results of the experiment. Listen to what he says: I have investigated on a grand scale — on a scale that others can never touch. Others might have one per cent of it. I have had the whole hundred per cent, and the verdict is: there is not a bit of profit in it. There is "no profit under the sun."

Here we find first of all the king's personal experience. He experimented, so to speak, with what belongs to the natural man — a fallen nature. That nature holds three things: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life. We can trace these three things in the opening verses. The lust of the flesh in verses 1-3; the lust of the eyes in verses 4-6, and the pride of life in verses 7-8.

In Ecclesiastes, Solomon says, "There is no good thing under the sun"; "All is vanity and vexation of spirit." Why so? To him, self was seeking its own satisfaction. Here, then, was no rest, no peace; it could not be otherwise. No human object could satisfy an immortal soul, nor could a dying man get rest in what he was to die out of. Yet, when he thought of himself, it was all I, I, I — I did it, and I found it vanity. But in the Song of Solomon we see all his blessedness, because there he speaks of Christ being everything to him. It has been said that in Ecclesiastes the heart was too great for the object. In the Song of Solomon the object is too great for the heart.

The word "profit" occurs several times in the book of Ecclesiastes. The Lord Jesus has ruled that if a man should gain the whole world, and lose his own soul, he would not be profited (Matt. 16:26). "But godliness with contentment is great gain" (1 Tim. 6:6). The man who penned these words found more than contentment — he found satisfaction, in Christ… The things that appealed to Solomon — gold, buildings, women, and so on — had no appeal to the apostle. Having them in such abundance and combination was in the end his undoing. Poor he might be, persecuted and despised, but he delighted to say, "To me to live is Christ" (Phil. 1:21). Let Paul be our model, not Solomon.

Yes, the one who knew it by experience and wrote it by inspiration has called "all" — without any exception — "under the sun" "vanity and vexation of spirit." Turn where you will "under the sun" and you will not find anything on which the heart can rest. You must rise on the steady and vigorous wing of faith to regions "above the sun," to find "a better and an enduring substance."… None but Jesus can give "substance." None but He can "fill." None but He can "satisfy."

Man wants something more. Where can he find it? The wisdom of the ancients cannot supply it. The research of people alive today cannot supply it either. It needs someone gifted with real wisdom to weigh it, someone able to search hard into the things of earth to discover it. One, and only one, of the children of Adam has been equal to the task... God gave him a measure of wisdom surpassing all before him, and no one coming after him has ever equalled it. He was king in Jerusalem, owning wealth beyond any monarch the world has ever seen. All that wealth could buy, all that power could command, all that wisdom could search out — he could enjoy and understand it. "What," then, "can the man do who comes after the king?"

His reflections follow on wisdom and madness and folly; for he knew what it must be for the man who comes in after the king: at best a repetition of the same empty pursuit of satisfaction here below.

As his kingdom prospered, we are told that his imports were "gold and silver, ivory, and apes and peacocks" (1 Kings 10:22). Apes stand for folly, and peacocks for vanity. For a man supreme on earth for wisdom this is a fall from the sublime to the ridiculous. We find the same strange blending of things that differ in Ecclesiastes 1:17, where he gives his heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly. Here in Ecclesiastes 2:12 he says it again: "So I turned to consider wisdom and madness and folly." Not at the same moment, surely! First he valued wisdom as more precious than rubies and fine gold; then he turned to madness and folly.

His search had disappointed him, but now he turns to something more ideal and less material than the things before. He turns philosopher, but it is no use. It leads down the same road and ends with the same groan — vanity and a striving after wind. Wisdom is superior to folly as far as light is superior to darkness. Yet wisdom cannot help man. It cannot give him peace or happiness. There is one event which happens to the wise man and to the fool: that event is death.

Solomon, who is the writer, goes through his experience of wisdom, of riches, of labour, and of all that his heart as a man could desire. And who can come after the king? He records it all by inspiration. So when he proves it to be nothing but vanity and a striving after wind, this is not the mere utterance of a disappointed man. It is a conviction God Himself recorded. The actions all carry the mark "under the sun," with no thought of doing them toward God.

Is there a higher wisdom and knowledge? There is, but in the book of the natural man it is unrevealed. That which satisfies, which is not vanity and a striving after wind, is that which is above the sun, and not under it. From above the sun He came, who is the wisdom of God, the Son of God... He died for our sins and is now back above the sun. In Him "are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" (Colossians 2). That which alone can satisfy is Christ.

When we speak of Solomon's wisdom, we must remember that it was not mere genius, as people use that word. It was not the fruit of long study and hard work either. God gave him wisdom and knowledge, along with riches, wealth and honour, such as no king before him ever had, and such as no king after him will have (2 Chronicles 1:12). This was the man appointed to show faithfully what life on earth is for a fallen creature, and all it can ever be. And One, and One alone, who has walked this earth as man, has shown fully what man should be. David's son describes the first; David's Lord has displayed the second.

Still, it is granted that wisdom has a profit above folly, as light has above darkness. The wise man has his eyes in his head, while the fool walks in darkness. Yet if the same end comes to all, what an irony!

We usually prefer to have dealings with a man who looks us straight between the eyes, for we assume he is a man of candour, of honesty and of courage. And generally speaking, a man's clear and steady eyes and his habit of using them may be taken as reliable indications of his character. It was said of old, "A wise man's eyes are in his head," and, "The eyes of a fool are in the ends of the earth." — Ecclesiastes 2:14; Proverbs 17:24.

This suggests that we keep our eyes open, and when we spot such people, we keep away from them. We know them by how they behave; watch for them. "The wise man's eyes are in his head" (Ecclesiastes 2:14). When we see persons who are marked by unclean things we should avoid them.

"Then I saw that there is more gain in wisdom than in folly, as there is more gain in light than in darkness." He turns philosopher, but it is no use. It leads down the same road and ends with the same groan — vanity and a chasing of the wind. Wisdom is above folly as light is above darkness. Yet wisdom cannot help man. It cannot give him peace, and it cannot give him happiness. One event happens to the wise man and to the fool: that event is death.

The difficulty here, like so many elsewhere, seems to spring from a misunderstanding of God's purpose in a book. "What is under the sun" — not the revelation of what is above and beyond it — is what is being discussed. So here it is simply the result of human experience, which knows nothing at all about what comes after death. The solution of all moral perplexities is found only in the unseen — in the Word of God, not in the world that now is.

"That dissatisfaction with passing pleasures, which men mourn as the unhappiness of their nature, is in fact its privilege." That thought is right, and worth valuing. For this thirsting again, this spending of "labour for that which does not satisfy," throws the heart on Jesus.

That was the wide range of pleasures he explored, both of the mind and of the body. No joy was withheld from him; yet even while he threw himself into all that he describes, he tells us his wisdom stayed with him. So he was fully able to judge what it was all worth, from his own experience and from the wisdom that never left him. Would not such a man be satisfied with what this life could give? If others with fewer advantages were disappointed, he at least had his fill of everything he wanted.

Still, wisdom does have a profit above folly, as light has above darkness. The wise man has his eyes in his head, while the fool walks in darkness. Yet if the result is the same for all, what an irony of events! He had found it so himself. Soon all alike would be forgotten here on earth, the one dying as the other. So he felt disgust at life and hated all his toil, above all because he must leave it to a successor — and who knows whether that man will be wise or a fool?

Death brings everything down to its level — wise and fool, man and beast. What difference is there? Only that the beast can fill his place for a time with no regrets and no anticipations, and man cannot. Death he hates and dreads, and conscience forebodes judgment.

As the natural man sees it, apart from revelation, death plunges the wise man and the fool into oblivion... That is how the natural man reasons. By revelation we know that there is remembrance.

Ecclesiastes has no word of resurrection. What it deals with is death — the stamp of vanity upon everything, and the one thing all men's reasoning can do so little to penetrate or understand. Faith shows death in its true character: the calling back of the spirit into His presence. Without that, death is a worthless zero. With it, death becomes almost infinite in value.

This is the experience of a man with no equal in his ability, his circumstances, and his means. (What can the man do who comes after the king?) He searched for happiness, and found only vanity and a chasing after wind in all that is "done under the sun." How could it be otherwise, if man is an outcast from paradise and does not look in faith to Him who is above the sun?

The book also directs us to Christ. There is something above the sun, something that does not vanish but stays. The old creation calls for a new creation, and Christ has made that possible.

What gives this its particular point is the personal position of the Preacher. Suppose someone could look at man as he is on the earth and still escape the sense of misery. You would have thought that man would be King Solomon. What lies before us is his assessment in the Spirit, so that faith might profit from all he tells us. It is not from any lack of power, interest, or research, nor of ability or resources.

The old, old question is, "Is life worth living?" After all he has said, the answer must be no. If all is vanity and a striving after wind, and there is no profit under the sun in anything a man enjoys, works for, and gets, then life is not worth living. He had been disappointed in his search, but now he turns to something more ideal... Wisdom is superior to folly as far as light is superior to darkness. Yet wisdom cannot help man. It cannot give him peace or happiness. There is one event which happens to the wise man and to the fool: that event is death.

It was not so before sin entered into the world. On the contrary, God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good. When sin was there, God made the evil felt... This day is far different. Crookedness and defect remain. They are too great for man, and it is not yet God's time. Meanwhile man feels the misery fully and spells it out in detail.

He sees what is crooked and knows what is lacking. But he cannot put things straight or supply what is missing... And remember, this is not the experience of a sinner reaping the fruit of what he has sown. It is the experience of a man of the old creation (though a sinner himself), feeling the ruin and disorder that sin has brought on the earth.

This is the experience of a man with no equal in his ability, his circumstances, and his means. For what can the man do who comes after the king? He searched for happiness, and found only vanity and a striving after wind in everything "done under the sun." How could it be otherwise, if man is an outcast from paradise and does not look in faith to Him who is above the sun?

Note that this is simply taking advantage of every material thing "under the sun." It looks at things only from an earthly viewpoint. So it teaches us that, apart from the revelation given by God, man's history is hopeless misery. How wonderful is the contrast in the New Testament! It presents the Lord Jesus Christ, His revelation of the glory of God, and the eternal inheritance of the saints in light.

Now godliness means being conscious of God. It means living under the eye of God. It means having God as the trust and the glory of our hearts. Godliness like this, with the contentment that flows from it, is great gain.

The expression "under the sun" comes twenty-nine times in this book. What is "under the sun" is on the earth. There is, of course, something above the sun — that is heaven, the heavenly things. Ecclesiastes deals with earthly things, with what man does apart from God — that is, the natural man. The book describes the things under the sun. It shows that everything man does — his pursuits, his labours, whatever he takes up and all that goes with it — is nothing but vanity and a chasing after wind. It never satisfies, and it is full of sorrow and perplexity.

Here we get a view of death that man does well to remember. Death is the wages of sin, but it is not viewed in that aspect in Ecclesiastes. Solomon does not dwell on the reason death entered the world. He dwells on its presence here, as a worm at the root of the tree of pleasure. It spoils pleasure and chills enjoyment. It cuts a man off just when he would sit down after years of toil to reap the fruit of his labour... This book looks at death from this side of the grave. It shows how death separates a man from the fruit of all his labour, just when he thinks he is about to gather it.

Soon all alike would be forgotten here below, the one dying as the other. So he came to loathe life and hated all his toil, above all because he had to leave it to a successor — and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool? Yet that man must have authority over all the toil and fruit of wisdom under the sun. This too was vanity. A feeling of despair followed over all his toil, as he thought of an heir who had never toiled.

According to the king's lament (Ecc. 2:19), the man to whom Solomon left all the fruit of his labour was not wise. His folly brought on him the consequences that God's counsels had attached to his father's sin. Under Jeroboam's leadership, ten tribes threw off the authority of the house of David. Looked at in terms of responsibility, the house of David has entirely and for ever lost its glory.

Hezekiah was a remarkably good man, and his father was notably wicked. How truly and how widely the wise Preacher's reflection about successors applies! It holds in a kingdom, and in the smaller circle of the household: "Who knows whether he will be wise or a fool?"

There is no question in it of grace or of redemption. It is the experience of a man — a king with wisdom and riches — about human life. He tries to solve every contradiction in the world while he views it all "under the sun." Only the wisdom that comes from above can solve these things, or leave them unsolved in peace. Only in the New Testament do we get "new creation." It rises above the confusion of fallen humanity and reveals "eternal life" that is in God's Son.

We have the strongest reason to work hard in the Lord's interests. We know that "in the Lord your labor is not in vain." The work may look useless as far as man and his little world are concerned. But in the Lord, and connected with the order of things established in resurrection, it is not in vain.

The word "vanity" means that which soon vanishes, nothingness. The other phrase to notice is "under the sun." It appears twenty-nine times in this book. What is "under the sun" is on the earth. There is, of course, something above the sun — that is heaven, the heavenly things. So Ecclesiastes deals with earthly things. It deals with what man does apart from God — the natural man. The book describes the things under the sun. It shows that everything man does is nothing but vanity and a chasing after wind. His pursuits, his labours, whatever he takes on and all that goes with it — all of it is always unsatisfying and full of sorrow and confusion.

He hated life, and he hated all his toil — above all because he must leave it to a successor. And who knows whether that man will be wise or foolish? Yet that man must have power over all that toil and fruit of wisdom under the sun. This too was vanity. A feeling of despair followed over all his toil, as he thought of an heir who had never toiled.

Death is the wages of sin, but it is not viewed in that light in Ecclesiastes. Solomon does not dwell on why it entered the world, but on its presence here as a worm at the root of the tree of pleasure. It spoils pleasure and chills enjoyment. It cuts a man off just when he would sit down to reap the fruit of years of toil.

History answers the question. It shows with force the emptiness of all things that he felt so keenly. Rehoboam abandoned the advice of the old men who had served his father Solomon. That act of folly cost him the loyalty of the ten tribes. After three years of his reign he also abandoned the Lord. Shishak king of Egypt invaded, and Rehoboam lost the treasures Solomon had gathered. The shields of gold went to fill the treasuries of Egypt, and Rehoboam had to put shields of bronze in their place.

Hezekiah was a remarkably good man, with such a notably wicked father. The wise Preacher's reflection about one's successors applies truly and widely, whether in a kingdom or in the smaller circle of the household: "who knows whether he will be wise or a fool?"

Yet people will build and hoard. If not for themselves, then for their children — or in other words, their second selves. If I hoard for my children, I am hoarding for myself. And not only that. In countless cases the hoard proves a positive curse to the child instead of a blessing. It takes him off the proper ground appointed for him, as for everyone, in God's moral government. That ground is "doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have" — not to hoard for himself or for his second self, but — "something to share with anyone in need."

No toil, no testing, no suffering gone through in faith for the Lord will be lost. It is all treasured up. When our Lord Jesus Christ is revealed at the resurrection, it will be found to result in praise and glory and honour.

So he came to loathe life and hated all his toil. He had to leave it to a successor, and who knows whether that man will be wise or a fool? Yet the successor will hold power over everything he toiled for and gained by wisdom under the sun. This too was vanity. Despair came over him about all his toil, as he thought of an heir who had done none of the work. What was there in his work but pain and frustration? Even at night his heart would not let him rest.

Just as the king lamented (Ecc. 2:19), the man to whom Solomon left all the fruit of his labour was not wise. His folly brought on him the consequences that God had attached to his father's sin. Led by Jeroboam, ten tribes threw off the rule of the house of David. Measured by its responsibility, the house of David lost its glory completely and for ever.

Solomon does not dwell on the reason death entered the world. He dwells on its presence here, like a worm at the root of the tree of pleasure… It spoils pleasure and it chills enjoyment. It cuts a man off just when he would sit down, after years of toil, to enjoy the fruit of his work.

For him, self was seeking its own satisfaction. So here there was no rest and no peace, and it could not be otherwise. No human object could satisfy an immortal soul. A dying man could find no rest in what he had to die and leave behind… As someone has said, in Ecclesiastes the heart was too great for the object; in the Song of Songs the object is too great for the heart.

Ecclesiastes 1:1 tells us these are the uninspired words of Solomon. But the book is the inspired record of his words. It shows the doubt that is natural to human wisdom, working within its own limits and cut off from God's revelation. The Preacher is in despair and can see nothing beyond the grave.

Turn where you will "under the sun" and you will find nothing the heart can rest on. You must rise on the strong, steady wing of faith to the regions "above the sun." There you find "a better and an enduring" possession. The One who sits at the right hand of God has said, "I walk in the way of righteousness, in the paths of justice, granting an inheritance to those who love me, and filling their treasuries" (Prov. 8:20-21).

God did not inspire him to do what he did, but God did inspire him to put the result of the experiment on record. Listen to what he says. I have investigated on a grand scale, on a scale that others can never touch. Others might have one per cent of it; I have had the whole hundred per cent. And the verdict is that there is no profit in it at all. There is "no profit under the sun."

While he was prospering, one painful thought stayed with him: the heir to it all might turn out to be a fool… As the royal philosopher feared, so it happened. Rehoboam refused to listen to the reasonable complaints of his subjects. He drove ten of Israel's twelve tribes into revolt against the house of David, and no one has repaired that damage to this day.

Death is the wages of sin, but it is not viewed in this way in Ecclesiastes. Solomon does not dwell on why it entered the world, but on its presence here as a worm at the root of the tree of pleasure. It spoils pleasure and chills enjoyment. A man toils for years. Then, just as he sits down to reap the fruit of his labour, death cuts him off… But now, for the man who feels the results of the fall, death is the great spoiler. It blasts all his hopes.

And the misery of it is just this: a man has laboured for years and naturally expects to enjoy what he, and not others, has piled up. But death comes in and takes him away, so he leaves all the fruit of his labour to be enjoyed by someone else.

This expression appears twenty-nine times in this book. Now what is "under the sun" is on the earth. There is, of course, something above the sun — that is heaven, the heavenly things. So Ecclesiastes deals with earthly things, with what man does apart from God… In all his searching and describing of the things under the sun, the writer makes one thing clear. He does not depend on divine revelation, on what is above the sun. He reaches his results by the light nature gives, and his resources are within himself… The book is in the Holy Scriptures for one purpose: to show man apart from God how hollow and empty everything under the sun is, and to make him seek and find what is better, what is above the sun.

The subject here is not guilt, as in Psalm 32 and Psalm 51, but the unhappiness of a man whose heart does not rise above created things. Take the fullest means, the highest ability, the highest rank, the most active mind, the most cultivated taste — yes, and wisdom above all men. All of it only makes the dissatisfaction and the misery deeper.

The highest attainments or richest prosperity in things under the sun are all vanity. But the smallest service to the Lord — even giving a cup of cold water in His name — has the value of eternity in it.

The things you have here are your Master's goods. If you hoard them up here, you are certain to lose them later, and you will turn them into accusers. On the other hand, grace lets you transfer them truly to your own account, by laying them up where your treasure is — "in heaven."

Because mere human work is vanity is no reason to be lazy in the Lord's work. Faith in the living God and diligence go together, for in this there is no vanity: "your labor is not in vain in the Lord."

The next phrase we notice is "under the sun." It appears twenty-nine times in this book. What is under the sun is on the earth. There is, of course, something above the sun: heaven, the heavenly things. So Ecclesiastes deals with earthly things, with what man does apart from God — that is, the natural man. The book describes the things under the sun. It shows that all man does — his pursuits, his work, whatever he takes up and everything tied to it — is nothing but vanity and frustration of spirit. It never satisfies. It is full of sorrow and confusion. In all his searching he does not depend on God's revelation, on what is above the sun. He reaches his results by the light nature gives, and his resources are inside himself.

What gives it particular point is who the Preacher is. If anyone could look at man as he is on the earth and not feel the misery of it, you would have expected that man to be king Solomon. What lies before us is his appraisal in the Spirit, so that faith might profit by all he tells us. It is not from lack of power, interest, or research, any more than of capability or resources.

Because of Adam's sin the ground was made to bring forth thorns and thistles, and from then on man must eat his bread in labour and toil, in the sweat of his face. That is to say, labour and toil began with sin — the keeping and dressing of the garden was neither labour nor toil, in the language of Scripture.

What a trouble death is — an unwelcome visitor whom nobody can keep out of his house. It comes uninvited, at a time man thinks is wrong, and it strips its victim of everything... The thread of a man's life unrolls in front of him. At one end is his birth; at the other, his exit from the world by death. All he sees is the short life of a mortal born to die. So we can understand the reason for that cry: "What has a man from all the toil...?"

In Ecclesiastes, Solomon says that all is vanity and a striving after wind. Why so? To him, self was seeking its own satisfaction. Here, then, was no rest, no peace; it could not be otherwise. No human object could satisfy an immortal soul, nor could a dying man find rest in what he was to die out of. Yet when thinking of himself it was all I, I, I; I did it, and I found it vanity.

But is there something else that satisfies? Is there a higher wisdom and knowledge? There is, but the book of the natural man does not reveal it. What satisfies, what is not vanity and frustration of spirit, is what is above the sun, not under it. From above the sun He came, who is the wisdom of God, the Son of God... That which alone can satisfy is Christ.

We have the strongest reason for hard work in the Lord's interests: we know that "in the Lord your labor is not in vain." It may look useless as far as man and his little world are concerned. But in the Lord, and as part of the order of things established in resurrection, it is not in vain.

Another word we notice is "under the sun." This expression is found twenty-nine times in this book. Now that which is "under the sun" is on the earth. There is, of course, something which is above the sun, that is heaven, the heavenly things. Ecclesiastes deals with earthly things — with what man does apart from God, that is, the natural man. The book describes the things under the sun. It shows that all a man does — his pursuits, his labours, whatever he undertakes and everything tied to it — is nothing but vanity and vexation of spirit. It never satisfies, and it is filled with sorrow and perplexity.

A feeling of despair came over all his toil, as he thought of an heir who had not toiled. For what was there but pain and vexation in his employment, even in the night his heart refused him rest.

It mars pleasure, it chills enjoyment, for it cuts off man just when he would sit down after years of toil to reap the fruit of his labour.

Then the other word, "perverseness," is rather "labour," or "travail." It is the word which, as we have seen, gives us the first part of the name "Amalek" — amal. It is not work: man in Eden was to work; but toil — the drudgery of work, above all the drudgery that a heart away from God drives us to... And from this the grace of God in Christ would draw us away: "Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

In Ecclesiastes, Solomon says there is no good thing under the sun, and that all is vanity and vexation of spirit. Why so? To him, self was seeking its own satisfaction. Here, then, was no rest, no peace; it could not be otherwise. No human object could satisfy an immortal soul, nor could a dying man get rest in what he was to die out of. Yet, when thinking of himself, it was all I, I, I, I did it, and I found it vanity.

The explanation lies in the difference between revelation and inspiration. Not all Scripture is direct revelation from God. Some of it is history in which the sayings of evil men and even of Satan are recorded. A book like Ecclesiastes is largely the record of Solomon's thoughts, reasonings and disappointments. He was looking for happiness in satisfying his natural desires. Yet all is given to us by inspiration of God. The accounts of what was done or said are divinely accurate. God led Solomon to record his mental struggles with such divine fitness that they profit us for warning and correction.

The obvious contrast is between securing something by our own efforts and looking for it as God's gift... Quiet of mind and restful enjoyment can never be gained as the fruit of our own toil. God is the giver of all repose to His beloved. Once they accept this simple truth, they stop being anxious and stop their worried labour. He keeps them in perfect peace, whatever the outlook, with their minds resting on Him.

So mirth is tried next... It was all in vain, and the feeling of disappointment returns. Might not activity in great works succeed better? Solomon tried this and carried it out with extraordinary diligence and splendour. But looking back over all this work he did and the toil he toiled at, he could rest in none of it. The whole was vanity and distress of spirit, and no profit under the sun.

Ecclesiastes 2 is Solomon's "I" chapter: that personal pronoun occurs 16 times in the first 9 verses: a true chapter of the self-gratified "I."

The conclusion reached in verses 24-26 is to receive thankfully what comes from the hand of God. He gives man good in His sight: wisdom and knowledge and joy. But to the sinner He gives hard labour, to gather and heap up, so that it may be given to the one who is good in God's sight. And what is this but vanity and distress of spirit?

The conclusion reached is that, apart from God, man has no capacity to enjoy his labour.

This book gives us the experience of man, and the reasonings of man, on all that happens under the sun. Remember that, and there is no difficulty in those passages that have the appearance of unbelief. The experience of man is necessarily unbelieving. He confesses his ignorance; for beyond what is seen, experience can know nothing. But the solution of all moral problems is above and beyond what is seen. The only rule of life then is to fear the God who controls our life, and who judges every action. There is no question, in this book, of grace or of redemption, but only of the experience of this present life.

We must never overlook the difference between revelation and inspiration. All Scripture is inspired by God, but not every word found in it is a revelation from God. Take what Solomon wrote, for instance: "There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink…" He was not speaking a revelation from God. He was speaking his own foolishness — inspired to put it on record for our warning.

Is this a revelation from God? Is it God's voice telling us that food and drink are, after all, the highest good? Emphatically no! What, then? It is the divinely inspired record of the extreme folly that the wisest of men may be led into if he has no light above his natural reason and observation. And how good of God to give us a glimpse of this in His inspired record.

We may sum it all up in a brief sentence. Man under the sun, whatever he does, finds no satisfaction. All his labours, all his riches, all his seeking for good, all his achievements cannot give what the soul of man craves and needs... What man needs is not anything "under the sun" but what is "from above the sun."

God gave him wisdom greater than all who came before him, and no one after him has ever matched it. He was king in Jerusalem. He held wealth beyond any ruler the world has ever seen ("for silver was counted as nothing in the days of Solomon"). All that wealth could buy, all that power could command, all that wisdom could search out — he could enjoy and understand. "What," then, "can the man do who comes after the king?" "Who can eat, or who else can hasten (or enjoy) more than I?"

The conclusion reached is that, apart from God, man has no capacity to enjoy his labor.

The conclusion in verses 24-26 is to receive with thanks what comes from the hand of God. He gives man good in His sight — wisdom and knowledge and joy. But He gives the sinner toil, to gather and heap up, so that it goes to the one who is good in God's sight. And what is this but vanity and frustration of spirit?

No human object could satisfy an immortal soul. A dying man could not find rest in what he was about to die and leave behind… We need a large capacity for the enjoyment of God Himself — a capacity that none but God can give and none but God can fill.

Solomon says, "All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full." The sea is the human heart. If you could direct into those discontented hearts every river of earthly pleasure, they would still remain unfilled, unsatisfied. Men hunt for satisfaction where it can never be found. An iceberg yields no heat, salt no sweetness, and wine cannot be pressed from turnips. Man's heart was made for God, and only God, in Christ, can fill and satisfy it.

Do you need an illustration of this? Turn to Ecclesiastes 2:24: "There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil." Is this a revelation from God? Is it God's voice telling us that food and drink are, after all, the highest good? Emphatically no! What then? It is the God-inspired record of the extreme folly the wisest of men can be led into if he has no light above his own natural reason and observation. And how good of God to give us a glimpse of this in His inspired record!

The conclusion reached in verses 24-26 is to receive thankfully what comes from the hand of God... And what is this but vanity and vexation of spirit?

The conclusion reached is that, apart from God, man has no capacity to enjoy his labour.

Natural joy is very precious. According to the Preacher in Ecclesiastes 2:26, it is one of three things that God gives to a man who is good in His sight. Natural goodness, under the government of God, brings its own reward of natural joy. But the joys of nature soon fade when the trials and sorrows that man inherits arrive. In the end the tested soul discovers that all is vanity and vexation of spirit.

A good man is like the One who found him evil, and by grace made him a sharer in the divine nature, escaping the corruption that is in the world through lust. The wealth of the sinner, great as it may seem, is stored up for the just. Ungodliness may prepare, devise, and pass on an estate; but God cares for those who serve Him. So the just will put on the clothing meant for others, and the innocent will divide the silver, if He sees fit.

Evil is here. In a world like this, God's government does not work to secure happiness for man down here — a happiness drawn from the things below and resting on how stable they are. Yet as a general rule it does protect those who walk with God.

This book gives us the experience of man, and the reasoning of man, about all that happens under the sun. Remember that, and the passages that look like unbelief cause no difficulty. Man's experience is bound to be unbelieving. He confesses his ignorance; for beyond what is seen, experience can know nothing. But the answer to every moral problem lies above and beyond what is seen, and this book makes that clear... There is no question in this book of grace or of redemption, but only of the experience of this present life.

Thank God, there is One who can still the hunger and thirst of the soul, who graciously invites, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink."

The wedding feast at Cana of Galilee showed how quickly natural joy passes: the wine ran out. But there the Lord Jesus revealed a source of an entirely new kind of joy in the best wine of His own providing. This new joy is from God, and a person knows it when he receives the gospel.