Ecclesiastes 8.1–17
A sermon preached at St Albans Church Highgate 4th October 2026
I was 16 when I started to think about life. The girl I loved and worshipped—very much at a distance—took up with one of my class-mates. The bottom fell out of my world, and I plunged into a depression which lasted for 6 months. I had never experienced depression before. I began to question whether life had meaning, and couldn’t see that it did. Happily, the depression passed but the question mark remained over whether life had meaning. It was compounded by my reading. I devoured William Shirer’s, Rise and Fall of the Third Reich. The second world war ended the year before I was born, so it was all pretty fresh. Shirer’s description of the Nazi Einsatz groups that followed the German army into Ukraine, horrified me. An eyewitness report of the execution of 5000 Jews in just one town was read at the Nurenberg Trial; it still haunts me.
The people who had got off the trucks — men, women, and children of all ages had to undress … they stood around in family groups , kissed each other, said farewells … The guards counted off about 20 people and instructed them to go behind the earth mound. I well remember a girl, slim and with black hair, who as she passed close to me pointed at herself and said, “Twenty-three years old.” … I looked for the man who did the shooting. He was an SS man who sat at the edge of the narrow end of the pit; his feet dangled into the pit. He had a machine gun on his knees and he smoked a cigarette.[1]
How could anything have meaning in a world where life could be taken away so easily and so brutally?
When I left home for university it was with a fixed notion that life was meaningless. A short time later that the Beatles went off to India in search of the meaning of life. They didn’t find it. My young brother was listening to Simon and Garfunkle singing about the meaninglessness of life.
I’m blinded by the light of God and truth and right, and I wander in a night without direction. So, I’ll continue to continue, to pretend, my life will never end, and flowers never bend in the rainfall.
Part way into my second year of study, I found God. Strangely, I had never thought that God might have anything to do with the meaning of life. Along with God, I discovered life had meaning. I had always thought that if there was any meaning, if would be in the arms of a woman. At last I had a girlfriend, but when I put my arms around her, the sense of meaning I expected for was not there, and happily she dumped me for a guitarist in a university band. When I came to know Jesus I found love, life—eternal life—and meaning. I was overwhelmed by joy.
About 18 months later, I went for a walk into the country; it must have been a Sunday; I had begun to not study on Sundays. My college backed onto sheep paddocks and bushland. I sat down against a fence to read my Bible, and opened it at the book called Ecclesiastes. I had never read it before, and didn’t know what it was about. I couldn’t believe what I was reading: here was a book about the meaning of life, or rather its meaninglessness. I thought that was a nightmare from my past, that I had now escaped, but here it was staring at me from the pages of Holy Scripture.
Meaningless, meaningless, says the Preacher, Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless. What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun? A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever. The sun rises, and the sun goes down, and hastens to the place where it rises. The wind blows to the south and goes around to the north; around and around goes the wind, and on its circuits the wind returns. All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full; to the place where the streams flow, there they flow again. All things are full of weariness; a man cannot utter it … Ecclesiastes 1. 1–8
But surely this was written for unbelievers, not Christians! Surely this is because they are ignorant of God! I read on, and then, shock horror, I came across this:
I applied my heart to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven. What a heavy burden God has laid on men! I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity (meaningless) and a striving after wind … 1.13–14
The Preacher believes in God, but the conclusion of his investigation is that life is meaningless. This was the second big lesson I took from this book. The first is that the meaninglessness I felt in my late teens was not a mistake; it was real. But then I discovered in Ecclesiastes that this was something which God himself has laid on his creation, something hard-wired into the world, an inescapable part of what it means to live “under the sun.”
Some years ago Michael Farmer, now Lord Farmer—they call him Mr Copper, because he trades in copper— he preached a sermon at St Helen’s Church Bishopsgate in London. Because he had become a celebrity, the press was there to witness the strange sight of a successful businessman preaching in a church. “The world is under a curse,” he said, and it caused a stir. What a crazy thing to say! It was reported in all the newspapers. But that is precisely what the Bible tells us, and what every Englishman would have known a few generations ago:
Cursed be the ground because of you,” God said to Adam. “By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food, until you return to the ground … for dust you are and to dust you will return. Genesis 3.17–19
Meaninglessness goes along with death; this is the curse God has laid on this world. Everything is dying. Paul speaks of it in Romans chapter 8.20 where we also learn that this curse of futility (meaninglessness) will not last for ever; it there for now for the healing of mankind.
For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
This is the world we live in. This is how it is to live “under the sun.” Things will not make sense. People ask, “Why has God allowed this—but in this life we will never find out why. Floods in Thailand, a valley wiped out in Nepal, young people massacred in South Africa, a midair drama in the Middle East, a car driven into a football crowd in Newcastle, all unexpected, all suddenly turning lives upside down, dashing plans to nothing. We are now at chapter 8; mostly I am using the NIV version which uses “man” and “mankind” in an inclusive way.
When I applied my mind to know wisdom and to observe man’s labour on earth—his eyes not seeing sleep day or night—then I saw all that God has done. No one can comprehend what goes on under the sun, Despite all his efforts to search it out, man cannot discover its meaning. Even if a wise man claims he knows, he cannot really comprehend it. Ecclesiastes 8.16–17.
This truth really came home to me when Hope Motlhope died. He was one of our most promising students, a full-on disciple with dreadlocks, who helped everyone who needed it and found his way into many hearts. When a mission team set out for Mozambique, he joined at the last moment to fill a gap. The mission went well; it was the last day. The team were swimming at the beach. A young medical student got into difficulties. Hope went to help her. Both were drowned. When I got the news I was devastated—angry with God. “Lord we are trying to build your kingdom; why are you tearing it down?” There is no answer to these things, and they keep on happening. You know it from your own life; it is something common to human beings.
But now the question comes, how then are we to live—if what happens does not add up, and everything we do will be swept away? The answer we discover in this book is wisdom: wisdom is good, good to seek and good to practise.
Who is like the wise? And who knows the interpretation of a thing? A man’s wisdom makes his face shine, and the hardness of his face is changed. Ecclesiastes 8.1.
I saw that wisdom is better than folly, just as light is better than darkness. Ecclesiastes 2.13.
It may be true that the wise person and the fool end up together in the grave, and that makes no sense, yet wisdom is better than folly, and we do well to practise it, even if we can hardly see the point. Wisdom will make you happy, even though at times it may bring sorrow. Wisdom will prevent you from becoming bitter, and give you peace of mind.
But what is it—this wisdom? Wisdom is the art, the knowledge, the ability to understand how life works and make good decisions. Good decisions are the ones that have a good outcome.
Just as today we have an international scientific movement, with its conferences and journals, that seeks to understand the physical world, so in the Ancient Near East there was an international wisdom movement. This movement studied how human life works, and sought ways of living successfully. Its observations were expressed in proverbs, and wisdom writings—like Proverbs, the Book of Job, and much of Ecclesiastes. Here is an example:
Obey the king’s command (we are talking here about governments and laws) … Do not be in a hurry to leave the king’s presence. Do not stand up for a bad cause, for he will do whatever he pleases. Since a king’s word is supreme who can say to him, ‘What are you doing?’ Whoever obeys his command will come to no harm, and the wise heart will know the proper time and procedure for every matter … Ecclesiastes 8.2–5.
The Preacher is giving wise advice to those who are close to government. I think of Thomas Cranmer, Henry VIII’s Archbishop of Canterbury. Many fell out with Henry and lost their heads. The king had the power of life and death. Cranmer was wise. There were many occasions where he wanted to stand up for some just cause, but he knew it was useless— not the right time—it would only antagonize the king; he held his peace. His patience and wisdom brought about a revolution for good in England, even though those who study his life are quick to charge him with cowardice. Yet it cost him his life when he knew he had to stand fast and oppose the next queen.
Last Sunday I spoke on marriage from Ephesians 5. I missed a very important point, which today’s reading has made clear to me: what Paul says about husbands and wives, and the way they should behave towards each other is wisdom. We tend to read it as law. But Paul puts it in the context of wisdom.
Be then very careful how you walk, not as unwise, but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Ephesians 5.15–16
It is in this context that he discusses marriage. Wisdom is different to law. Each situation needs to be considered carefully. The relevance of a proverb or piece of wisdom to the situation must be considered. This is why some wisdom proverbs contradict each other. The wise person needs to weigh up which is the better course in a situation.
Here then, is the third principle of life we learn from this book. In a world that makes no sense we must be careful observers of life, and do what is likely to bring the best outcome, even when we cannot know the future, and our wisdom may sometimes backfire. Side-by-side with wisdom is godliness.
Although a wicked person commits a hundred crimes and still lives a long time, I know that it will go better with God-fearing people, who are reverent before God. Ecclesiastes 8.12.
So wisdom and godliness are the way forward. This is the way we are to live, but what sort of person will this make us? Here we come to a principle of life that is shot all through this remarkable book. Since nothing really adds up, the best thing to do is enjoy the life God puts before you.
There is something else meaningless that takes place on earth, righteous people who get what the wicked deserve, and there are wicked people to whom it happens according to the deeds of the righteous. I said that this also is meaningless. And I commend joy, for man has nothing better under the sun but to eat and drink and be joyful, for this will go with him in his toil through the days of his life that God has given him under the sun. Ecclesiastes 8.14–15.
This should be obvious, but how many people make the mistake of thinking God wants us to be miserable. Be serious about life, yes, but the man or woman of God knows how to enjoy the good things of life. Asceticism—deliberately inflicting pain on yourself by denying yourself food or drink, or sex in your marriage, or a holiday—this is not pleasing to the God who, in Paul’s words,” provides all things richly for your enjoyment” (1 Timothy 6.17) and “has shown kindness in giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons, providing you with plenty of food and filling your hearts with joy” (Acts 14.17), and who, according to Psalm 104.14, “gives us plants to cultivate that we may bring forth food: wine to gladden our heart, oil to make our face shine, and bread to strengthen our heart.”
Does this mean we should be hedonists. Hedonists think happiness is all that matters in life, and pursue it through sensuality. But happiness eludes them; the person who climbs a mountain or sails around the world will have more satisfaction than the couch potato. There are times for eating and drinking and relaxation, and times for action and abstinence. The wise will know. And we must remember that “man does not live by bread alone but by every word coming from the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4.4) For, the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 1.7), and:
The fool says in his heart there is no God. Psalm 14.1.
There are many fools in our land today, many who think eating and drinking and being merry is all that life is about. They disbelieve so they may be free to indulge their passions: “ sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll.” the tragedy is, that even then, they “can’t get no satisfaction.” (The Rolling Stones).
What shall we say about Jesus and Ecclesiastes? How can a book of wisdom, with no clarity about salvation and eternal life, be about Jesus? Yet Jesus says all of Scripture is about him, and Ecclesiastes was part of the Bible he read, so we must consider this question. There is no story-line in the wisdom literature leading to a promised king; wisdom is about observing life to learn how it works best— living to succeed. And we are warned that life will not always make sense.
There is something else meaningless which occurs on earth: righteous people who get what the wicked deserve, and wicked people who get what righteous people deserve. This too I say is meaningless. Ecclesiastes 8.14.
I am thinking as I read this that Jesus’ life didn’t make sense. If anyone deserved better and got worse it was he. I need to make a study of his life to see if this sense of life being without meaning weighed on him at all.
There is no doubt he was wise. Isaiah speaks of him long before he was born:
The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him: the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding … the Spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord … Isaiah 11.2.
The preacher can only find one man in a thousand. I venture that Jesus was the one fully wise man. Was not the fear of God the bedrock of his life, and his every decision wise? And did not his decisions, strange as some of them seem to us, lead to the salvation of the world? When he received news of Lazarus’s illness, he deliberately delayed his departure until Lazarus was dead 4 days. And his action had a glorious outcome—though it also stirred up the authorities and led directly to his death. “Meaningless,” the preacher would say. The disciples must surely have felt the same as they saw him hanging on the cross.
But what about his way of life? They accused him of being a drunkard and a glutton, because of his enjoying to eat with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus exposed the foolishness of his critics, and countered that wisdom would be proven by its outcome (Luke 7.31–35).
And when fasting was called for, he would go without food for 40 days at the beginning of his ministry, and at the end, when at Passover every Jew was meant to have at least 4 cups of wine, he abstained, knowing what lay ahead of him.
At that fateful moment Luke tells us about in chapter 9 of his Gospel, when he set his face to go to Jerusalem, he turned his back on mother and sisters and brothers, yes and even his own life, taking up his cross and journeying to rejection and death.
When we consider the outcome of his life, what do we find? Did he not carry the burden of our guilt and achieve our salvation? As the Letter to the Hebrews 12.3 says, “For the joy that was set before him he endured the cross, contemptuous of the shame, and is now seated at the right hand of God.” Surely the work of the Lord prospered in his hand. “By his stripes we are healed.” Hallelujah!
And was he not the greatest ever teacher of wisdom? He urges us to be wise: “The wise man built his house upon the rock, and in the floods that must surely come, your house will stand firm.” Although much of life will seem to defy reason, we live a life of faith and wisdom. For the Preacher does not say that there is no meaning to what happens, only that “under the sun” we will never know it. He is convinced that a life of wisdom and godliness will out in the end, that God will bring everything into judgement. (Ecclesiastes 8.11–13; 12.13–14) He may at times sound like an unbeliever, but actually he is a man of faith. And now that God has brought life and immortality to light through Jesus, and in the gospel (2 Timothy 1.10), we can live a life of faith with even more certainty and joy (2 Peter 1.19), following the instructions of Paul when, at the end of his great chapter on the resurrection, he says,
Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord you labour is not in vain—not for nothing—not meaningless. 1 Corinthians 15.56.
[1] Third Reich, 1144-45.