Introduction
The British actor A.E. Matthews once reflected sadly over his own life saying, “In the end I got so old and tired and weary of living, that I looked in The Times obituary column each morning and if I wasn't there, I got up!”
The American novelist Ernest Hemingway wrote, “I live in a vacuum that’s as lonely as a radio when the batteries are dead.” Shortly afterwards, he committed suicide.
The Irish rock musician Bob Geldof's autobiography is entitled Is That It?
The French artist Paul Gauguin painted a large picture in 1897 called Three Questions. In the top left panel it says, Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going? Moving from right to left, it shows the beginning of life depicted in an infant and the end of life in a lonely old woman with various random stages in between. But the painting, completed just days before the artist's sad decline and death, doesn’t seem to really communicate much of anything. And perhaps that is the point.
Where do we come from? Who are we? And where are we going? are the big existential questions of our time. But not just of our time, actually, because they appear in the Bible too, and never more forcefully than in the book of Ecclesiastes.
Understanding Solomon
It was written by King Solomon who lived around 950 BC, which was Israel’s golden age. Its borders have never, before or since, been as extensive as they were in Solomon’s day. Israel’s economic wealth, its cultural influence and its military strength were all at their highest point during his reign.
Solomon was an exceptionally high achiever. He was multitalented. Politically, culturally, intellectually, artistically and spiritually, he left his mark - big time. But above all, he was renowned all over the ancient world for his unparalleled wisdom.
He was a scholar, an original thinker, who spoke a lot of sense to people. He came before the great Greek philosophers like Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. And in fact, only Jesus in the whole Bible is presented as having superior wisdom to Solomon.
But his whole life was a restless pursuit to the answer to those great questions behind every midlife crisis – What is life all about? Why am I here? Who am I? What is the meaning to my life? How can I find happiness?
Solomon is associated with three books in the Bible, and it seems he wrote them at three different points in his life.
His first book is the Song of Songs. Or as some call it, the snog of snogs! It’s an epic love poem. It’s full of sensual imagery and it's packed with dreams and fantasies that the two breathless young lovers have about each other. They long for intimacy all the way through it. You read it and think “these two need to get a room.” Most would guess that Solomon was in the springtime of his life, maybe his early twenties, when he wrote it.
Later, Solomon had a hobby of collecting sayings and maxims from all over the world. It seems he was in his 30s or 40s with badly behaved teenage kids when he compiled the book of Proverbs because it’s basically a manual of advice from a worried father to a wayward son.
It reminds me of something a teenage girl once said to her mother. “Mum, what did you get up to when you were my age that makes you so worried about me now?”
The problem is, Solomon had a gift of wisdom from God for other people, including for his own children, but as he slowly backslid in his faith, he ignored that wisdom and made catastrophic choices for himself. As a result, his kids ended up even further away from God than even he did. When you walk with God with integrity your whole life, you give your children the best model to emulate.
Background to Ecclesiastes
Solomon is the narrator of his third book called Ecclesiastes (introducing himself in chapter 1 as David’s son and king in Jerusalem).
It looks like Solomon wrote Ecclesiastes when he was old. He’s near the end of his earthly journey; looking back. And he muses about the many things he did in his ambition for greatness and his quest for happiness.
Let’s pick it up in chapter 2.
I said to myself, ‘Come now, I will test you with pleasure to find out what is good.’ But that also proved to be meaningless. ‘Laughter,’ I said, ‘is madness. And what does pleasure accomplish?’ I tried cheering myself with wine, and embracing folly – my mind still guiding me with wisdom. I wanted to see what was good for people to do under the heavens during the few days of their lives. I undertook great projects: I built houses for myself and planted vineyards. I made gardens and parks and planted all kinds of fruit trees in them. I made reservoirs to water groves of flourishing trees.
I bought male and female slaves and had other slaves who were born in my house. I also owned more herds and flocks than anyone in Jerusalem before me. I amassed silver and gold for myself, and the treasure of kings and provinces. I acquired male and female singers, and a harem as well – the delights of a man’s heart. I became greater by far than anyone in Jerusalem before me. In all this my wisdom stayed with me. I denied myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure. My heart took delight in all my labour, and this was the reward for all my toil.
Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun. Then I turned my thoughts to consider wisdom, and also madness and folly. What more can the king’s successor do than what has already been done? I saw that wisdom is better than folly, just as light is better than darkness. The wise have eyes in their heads, while the fool walks in the darkness; but I came to realise that the same fate overtakes them both.
Then I said to myself, ‘The fate of the fool will overtake me also. What then do I gain by being wise?’ I said to myself, ‘This too is meaningless.’ For the wise, like the fool, will not be long remembered; the days have already come when both have been forgotten. Like the fool, the wise too must die!
So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, a chasing after the wind. I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun, because I must leave them to the one who comes after me.
And who knows whether that person will be wise or foolish? Yet they will have control over all the fruit of my toil into which I have poured my effort and skill under the sun. This too is meaningless. So my heart began to despair over all my toilsome labour under the sun. For a person may labour with wisdom, knowledge and skill, and then they must leave all they own to another who has not toiled for it. This too is meaningless and a great misfortune. What do people get for all the toil and anxious striving with which they labour under the sun?
All their days their work is grief and pain; even at night their minds do not rest. This too is meaningless. A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment? To the person who pleases him, God gives wisdom, knowledge and happiness, but to the sinner he gives the task of gathering and storing up wealth to hand it over to the one who pleases God. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
Now this is all very well, but what is that doing in the word of God? It seems to be more about fate than faith. It sounds like the confessions of a burned-out secular humanist. It could have been written by Eeyore in a wretched mood, on a rainy day. These aren’t the words of someone whose strength is the joy of the Lord.
It’s because, in the winter of his life, Solomon had drifted far away from God. That’s why he sounds so bored and tired of life and world weary. “What’s the point?” he seems to say again and again.
Ecclesiastes is never once quoted in the New Testament. But absolutely belongs in holy scripture. When they put the Old Testament together no one questioned if this book has a rightful place in God’s inspired word. You need to dig deep to unearth its riches though - and that’s what we’re going to try and do together this morning.
When you read Ecclesiastes through, you can see that Solomon is having a debate with himself throughout the book.
He begins with a statement, “Meaningless, everything is meaningless.” Then he argues with himself, for and against, whether there’s any purpose, whether he’s wasted his life, whether it’s all just pointless. And he explores his own soul; the dark side as well as the bright side.
Life makes no sense to him. Then again, maybe it does. But everything’s such a big waste of time. Or, actually, perhaps not totally.
It’s a bit like picking petals off a flower; “she loves me, she loves me not…” It doesn’t work if you stop halfway through! You’ve got to get to the end, haven’t you? Or you might get the wrong answer. (Actually, in my experience this is not a 100% a scientifically reliable method of determining the affections of a young woman’s heart…)
But it’s the same with Ecclesiastes. You have to get to the final chapter to make sense of the rest of the book, as we’ll see.
Solomon’s great experiment
Solomon is a man with exceptional talents. He is born into a life of wealth and privilege. He has every opportunity possible to live life to the full.
And in Ecclesiastes 2 he reels off an impressive catalogue of all the things he did to try and find happiness.
This is Solomon’s bucket list – and he does the lot. He tries partying (v1), comedy (v2), drinking (v3), engineering (4), gardening (v5), inventing (v6), acquiring (v7), womanising (8), studying (v12) and working (v19).
The first book of Kings gives us some detail on all this. It says he lived in sumptuous palaces. He strolled around in beautiful, landscaped gardens. He constructed a private zoo displaying exotic animals from all over the world. He amassed; 12,000 Egyptian thoroughbreds (the best horses that money could buy) and 1,400 chariots (those were his Ferraris and Bentleys).
Royalty from all over the world travelled to Jerusalem to admire the splendour and finery of his kingdom. He sent them home dizzy from the experience and lavished with extravagant gifts. He held banquets serving the world’s most luxurious and sumptuous food and drink with celebrity guest lists. Everyone envied Solomon’s wealth.
He was waited on by a personal staff estimated at 10,000 servants, each one trained to indulge his every whim. He only had to click his fingers and he would be entertained by the country’s best singers, musicians and actors.
He drank vintage wines in pure gold goblets. Prosperity in his reign was such that silver was considered of little worth.
He could make love, whenever he felt like it, with any one of the 1,000 or so beautiful women in his harem. He spared himself no sensual pleasure.
He had the power to do anything he wanted. He was an absolute ruler. He sat on a throne of ivory and gold, elevated on six steps, adorned with twelve hand-carved lions, and surrounded by hundreds of shields of hammered gold.
His engineering feats were stunning; grand building projects, the temple, fortress cities, parks, bridges, roads, canals...
He says in v9, “I became greater by far than anyone in Jerusalem before me.” That’s not hubris and ego. It’s a fact.
I find that people spend their whole lives dreaming about the next job, the next house, the next extension or new kitchen, the next promotion, the next relationship, the next holiday, the next buzz. But when they get there, once they have tasted the elation, they find it doesn’t fulfil them in the way they hoped it might. Can you relate to this?
Money can buy you virtually anything, but love isn’t one of them and neither is contentment. You can have a full wallet, a full larder, a full stomach, a full house, a full calendar, a full career, a full wine cellar, and an endless supply of lovers - and still have an empty soul. This is what Ecclesiastes chapter 2 tells us.
The empty promises of wealth
As Solomon reflects back on his life, it dawns on him that he’s got it all wrong. His pursuit of pleasure took his focus off God.
1 Timothy 6.6 says, “Godliness with contentment is great gain.” Most of his life, Solomon didn’t value godliness, so he found no contentment. That’s why he sums up his life as meaningless and empty.
I don’t know if there is any discovery more depressing than to realise at the very end of the only life we have that it’s all been a terrible waste.
“Yet (v11) when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun.”
Solomon has a first-class intellect but he cannot make sense of anything. He lives in a playboy mansion but feels anything but pleasure. He has a dream career but never achieves job satisfaction.
At the end of the day, he looks at everything he has, everything he’s done, and everything he is, and he rolls his weary eyes and says, “whatever.” It just leaves him unfulfilled.
A 21st Century Solomon would have a private jet, a luxury yacht, diamond chandeliers, a personal golf course, on a private Caribbean island, an exclusive art collection, stately homes, swimming pools, high-class vineyards – but all of it in the same spiritual vacuum...
Jay Gould, the American multi-millionaire businessman and investor said on his death bed, “I suppose, that I am the unhappiest and least satisfied man on earth.”
Social psychologist Oliver James wrote a book a few years ago called Affluenza. And in it he comments on a study that said that 50% of people with incomes over £35,000 feel they can’t afford to buy everything they need.
And the conclusion of this research is that whatever your income and however much is in your bank account you will always think that you need about a third more money to live the way you think you should. Mammon always says, “You haven’t got enough to give away. Store it up.”
Money can buy you a bed, but not sleep. Money can buy you a wedding ring, but not love. Money can buy you a clock, but not time. Money can buy you an education, but not wisdom. Money can buy you jewellery, but not beauty. Money can buy you insurance, but not security. Money can buy you a crucifix, but not a Saviour.
Phil Collins is one of the world’s best known and most successful musicians. He is one of only three recording artists to have sold over 100 million records as a solo artist and over 100 million records as a member of a band. He has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. His net worth is estimated at around £300 million.
But in an interview shortly after his third marriage breakdown, he said this: “Night after night I find myself lying on the bed, staring up at grey skies, rueing my life. He later said, “The huge hole, the void, I filled watching TV and drinking alcohol. And it nearly killed me.”
Many people spend most of their life losing their health to try and gain wealth, and then spend the end of their life losing their wealth trying to regain their health.
The turning point
Why is Solomon so cynical and despondent? It’s because he tries to find happiness by enjoying everything he has, without any connection with God.
But after 41 straight verses of doom and gloom in chapters 1 and 2, there’s a first glimmer of optimism.
Finally, Solomon mentions the “G word”. Verse 24: “A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment?
He’s saying that life is given to us by God for our pleasure. As soon as Solomon brings God into the picture, his mood lifts.
1 Timothy 6.17 says “God richly provides us with all we need for our enjoyment.” Take pleasure in what you do, and enjoy life, live it to the full, because it’s a gift from God who loves you and wants to bless you and fill you with good things.
And then he says this: (v26) “To the person who pleases him, God gives wisdom, knowledge and happiness…
Hold that right there. What he’s saying here is that satisfaction comes to those who make God their supreme treasure.
Food and work and friends and laughter and leisure are good. God created them for our pleasure. But, on their own, they can’t give you enduring happiness or self-worth. Solomon went down that road and found it was a dead end.
And those who shut God out all their lives end up with nothing. The day after you die, if you have had zero spiritual interest at all your whole life, what is there to show for it? And what is there to say to God?
Ending
C.E.M. Joad was an Oxford Professor who converted from atheism to Christianity. Here’s what he said after he came to faith in Christ: “Trying to find happiness from this world is like trying to light up a dark room by lighting a succession of matches. You strike one, it flickers for a moment, and then it goes out. But when you find Jesus Christ, it's as though the whole room is suddenly flooded with light.”
Real satisfaction in life comes through relationship with God. Which Solomon neglected. And that’s why he ends his book in chapter 12 with this concluding plea;
Remember your Creator in the days of your youth… (while you’re still young, with your whole life ahead of you). “Don’t waste your life like I did,” he’s saying.
What about you? Today is the first day of the rest of your life.
Are you going to build the rest of your days on Solomon sand, chasing after the wind, or on the solid ground of living wisely by knowing God?
Let’s pray...
Sermon preached at King's Church Darlington, 14 June 2026
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