I made me great works; I builded me houses; I planted me vineyards;
In Ecclesiastes 2 the king runs an experiment. He tries, one by one, everything life offers, and here he turns from pleasure to building — with the question whether great work can fill a human heart.
Solomon had already tried pleasure, and it came to nothing. The building projects are the next stage in the same search.
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.
The houses, vineyards and gardens were not random luxuries. One writer sorts the opening verses by the appetites of fallen human nature. Verses 4-6 belong to one of them.
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.
Solomon built for himself. Older translations repeat the word "me" in each line, and one writer makes that pronoun the key to the passage.
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.
The same writer counts the pronoun and files the chapter alongside others in Scripture:
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 failure was not in the quality of the work. It lay in what Solomon was asking the work to do for him.
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.
The building had to be paid for, and the nation paid the bill.
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.
A man with no interest in God could say the same words. The achievement settles nothing about him:
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?
Solomon's failure was not wasted. He lived to publish the results, so that nobody else needs to repeat the trial.
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."
And the hunger the gardens could not feed has an answer elsewhere:
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."
- The attempt — Pleasure had already failed. So Solomon asked whether great work would do better. He built with unmatched splendour and could rest in none of it.
- The appetite — The houses, vineyards and gardens fed the lust of the eyes. They were part of an experiment run on fallen human nature.
- The giveaway — "I made me… I built me… I planted me": the repeated pronoun marks a life that could say, "For me to live is self."
- The reason — No human object can satisfy an immortal soul. No dying man finds rest in what he must die out of. The heart was too great for the object.
- The result — The people groaned under the taxes. Solomon groaned with disappointment: "no profit under the sun." The thirst he could not fill is met in the One who invites the thirsty to come and drink.
I made me gardens and parks, and I planted trees in them of every kind of fruit;
Solomon's building programme reaches its high point here. A king with unlimited money and skill set out to make himself a paradise on earth. This book records what he found when he looked at it.
The Hebrew word translated "orchards" or "parks" is rare, and it is the ancestor of a word every reader knows. One writer traces it carefully:
"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).
So Solomon was making himself a paradise: Eden planted again by his own hand.
The gardens were not idle landscaping. They belong to a deliberate experiment, and one writer sorts the whole passage into three appetites:
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.
There is nothing wrong with a garden. The tragedy is that the man walking in it is no longer what he was made to be:
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.
Solomon poured skill, wealth and effort into these projects. The result matched everything else he had tried:
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.
Solomon's failure went on record on purpose, so nobody has to repeat it:
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.
If gardens, pools and fruit trees left the wisest man empty, the problem is not the quantity of the supply but the size of the container:
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.
The same writer names the One who meets that need:
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."
- Plant. Solomon's gardens and fruit trees were one stage of a planned experiment in what a fallen nature wants — here, "the lust of the eyes."
- Paradise. The word for "parks" is pardes, the root of "paradise". Solomon was building his own Eden, but that name belongs to the paradise of God.
- Ruin. God made man to find pure delight on earth. Man is now a beautiful ruin, and no landscaping repairs a wreck.
- Proof. He had a hundred per cent of what most people get one per cent of. Looking back, he could rest in none of it — no profit under the sun.
- Rest. Every river of earthly pleasure leaves the heart unfilled. God made it for Himself, and Christ still invites the thirsty to come and drink.
I made me ponds of water, to water therewith the wood, where the trees are reared.
Solomon dug reservoirs and piped the water to a whole wood of young trees. The verse raises a question every generation asks again: can beautiful surroundings ever satisfy the heart?
One word keeps returning through these verses. Commentators have counted it.
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."
Gaebelein sorts these verses by the appetite they feed. The pools and the wood they watered were made to please the eye.
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.
Wine and laughter had already failed him. So he changed method: if pleasure could not fill him, work might. The pools are part of that second attempt.
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.
Mawson traces this instinct back further. The first man left God's garden, and people have been building their own ever since.
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.
Verse 6 waters trees that are still growing. That is planting for a future the planter may not live to see.
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.
This failure is not one man's bad luck. Kelly sets Solomon's experiment against the world before sin, and against the One still to come.
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.
The book is not just a list of failed experiments. It leaves one door open.
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.
The man with the reservoirs was still thirsty. Gaebelein points to the only water that ends that thirst.
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."
- "I made myself" — "I" appears sixteen times in the first nine verses of this chapter. The real project is the self; the landscape is only the material.
- The eye — verses 4-6 feed the lust of the eyes: gardens, shrubs, pools and waterfalls, all pleasing to look at.
- The labour — when pleasure failed, Solomon turned to great works. He built with splendour and could rest in none of it.
- The heir — the young trees grow, but death takes the planter. The fruit of his labour goes to someone who never worked for it.
- The thirst — if God's garden did not satisfy man, his own garden cannot, and it always has a tomb in it. The one way out is living to Jesus, who invites the thirsty to come and drink.