All is Vanity (Ecclesiastes 1:1-11)
Last month, my wife and I watched a performance of Macbeth, a tragedy written by the famous English playwright William Shakespeare. The play tells of the downfall of Macbeth, whose ambition and lust for power leads him to murder his king and usurp the throne. In the final act, after his wife dies and as his enemies close in on him, Macbeth reflects on the futility of his life. He says: “Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing.”
In other words: Life is short. Then, we die. Although Shakespeare penned these words more than 400 years ago, they still resonate with us today. What is life about? Toil, trials, and trouble are sad facts of life. We work without any lasting gain. We experience frustration, disappointment, and discontentment. Life is messy and confusing. It leaves us grasping for answers. Nothing seems to work the way it should or go according to plan. Our lives are spent in death’s shadow. Life is unpredictable and short. Then, we die. What is the meaning of life?
This is an uncomfortable question that compels us to stop and consider what we are living for and why we are living. It is more convenient to simply ignore the question and get on with life. After all, we are so busy studying for exams, earning a living, dating, getting married, setting up a home, raising a family, and planning for retirement that we do not have time to stop and think. Our busyness aside, we escape into entertainment (doomscrolling social media or YouTube videos, binge watching K-dramas, for example). We escape into experiences and diversions such as food, exercise, hobbies, travel, etc. We also try to convince ourselves that true and lasting meaning and significance can be found in success, as we define it. So, we chase after a good education, a good career, personal happiness, health, wealth, power, and influence. We imagine that if we can just get more of what we want, then we will finally be fulfilled. But will we?
Been there, done that, says the Book of Ecclesiastes. It raises questions we should be seeking to answer, but are often too busy, too distracted or simply too afraid to ask. Ecclesiastes takes an honest look at life. It digs underneath the shiny surface to uncover what life is really about. But be warned. We may not like the answers.
Like the Book of Proverbs, Ecclesiastes belongs to the wisdom genre in the Old Testament. Proverbs tells us general truths about life. For example, “A slack hand causes poverty, but the hand of the diligent makes rich. (Prov 10:4)” While the value of hard work is generally true, hard work does not guarantee wealth. There are lazy rich people, and there are hard-working, yet poor people. We can read Proverbs and come to the wrong conclusion that if we just do A, we must always get B. We will only be disappointed and disillusioned. So, we need to also read Ecclesiastes, which complements Proverbs by looking at the difficult realities of life. It gets into the nitty gritty and shows how things are not so neat and tidy in real life. Ecclesiastes is a painfully realistic book. It does not sugarcoat the harsh realities and brute facts of life. Ecclesiastes hits us with hard truths to shake us out of our comfortable complacency. Its aim is to get us to stop pretending we’ve got life all figured out, so that we might live wisely.
The Preacher presents life’s perplexing problem.
Ecclesiastes is a quest for the meaning of life. Our quest begins today in Ecclesiastes 1:1-11. This is the big idea of our text: The Preacher presents life’s perplexing problem. We will think about this in two points: (1) The problem posed; (2) The problem observed.
The problem posed (Ecc 1:1-3)
In Ecclesiastes 1:1, a narrator introduces us to the one who will be doing most of the talking in Ecclesiastes. We will hear from the narrator again at the end of the book. His opening and closing remarks frame the whole book. But the main speaker in Ecclesiastes is the Preacher. His title is a translation from the Hebrew Qoheleth. This is derived from the Hebrew word for assembly (qahal), which is where the New Testament gets its word for “church”. Like a pastor in a church, Qoheleth preaches to a gathering of God’s people. The Book of Ecclesiastes is not the abstract, intellectual musings of an ivory tower philosopher. No, this down-to-earth Preacher meets us where we are in real life. He wants to teach us how to live wisely in a fallen and broken world.
Who is the Preacher? He is the son of David, king in Jerusalem (Ecc 1:1). Traditionally, this has been understood to refer to Solomon. We cannot say for sure, since Solomon is not mentioned by name. I will simply refer to him as the Preacher. But his position as a king gives him a privileged place from which to observe and experience all of life. Because he has seen and done it all, he has rich insights to share with us.
In Internet slang, “TLDR” means “too long; didn’t read”. TLDR indicates a summary of a longer text. Ecclesiastes 1:2 is like the TLDR of Ecclesiastes. The narrator tells us in a nutshell: This is what the Preacher has discovered about the problem of life. Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity. This statement brackets Ecclesiastes, appearing at the beginning and again near the end (Ecc 12:8): “Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity.” It summarises the main theme of Ecclesiastes.
“Vanity” is a key word in Ecclesiastes, appearing 38 times in the whole book — more times than any other book in the Old Testament. It is mentioned five times just in Ecclesiastes 1:2 alone. “Vanity” is a translation of the Hebrew word “hevel”. It is a difficult word to translate into English. The word literally means “breath, air, vapour”. When you are in a cold place and breathe out, hevel is what you see coming out of your mouth. Ecclesiastes uses hevel as a metaphor for life. It appears for a brief moment, then is gone. Life is passing, fleeting, transient, ephemeral, insubstantial. Psalm 39 also uses hevel in this way: “O LORD, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am! Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath!” In the New Testament, James 4:14 makes a similar point: “You do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.”
Life is short. It is here today, but gone tomorrow. Our days pass so quickly. Where does all the time go? Can you believe we are already halfway through 2025? Before we know it, another year is past. As I get older, birthdays become more bittersweet. While it is good to celebrate another year of life, it is also a sober reminder of unrelenting time. I am a year older and closer to the end.
In Ecclesiastes, hevel also gives the sense of being meaningless, pointless, futile, enigmatic, uncontrollable, and absurd. Not only is life short, but it is also elusive — it is hard to get a handle on it. Like the breath that comes out of our mouths, we cannot grab it. We do not understand why life happens the way it does. We struggle to make sense of it. Why do the good die young, while the wicked seem to prosper, living comfortably into their old age? Why does it always seem to rain when we forget our umbrella? Why is the traffic the worst when we’re in a hurry? Why does the job I eagerly desired turn out so disappointing? Hevel describes the perplexing, sometimes painful, ironies of life.
Prateek and Komi, both doctors, were excited to start a new chapter of their lives. Together with their three children — a pair of five-year-old twin boys and an eight-year-old daughter, they boarded the plane that would take them from Rajasthan to London, where they were relocating. The family never made it. Along with the other 240 passengers on Air India flight AI171, all five were killed when their plane crashed last Thursday. Vanity of vanities! All is vanity. All is hevel.
Ecclesiastes wants us to see life as it really is, so that we might approach life as we should. Ecclesiastes wounds in order to heal.
Now, wait a minute. “All” sounds rather broad and absolute, doesn’t it? Yet, it is an inescapable fact that every earthly good we so readily build our lives around — be it happiness, health, wealth, education, work, or relationships — is finite and fleeting. All is vanity. Ecclesiastes is a jolt, calling us to wake up. Stop living under the delusion that our lives are ours to control, and that we can be masters of our own fate. Do not be naïve about the painful and perplexing realities of life in a broken world, where plans fail, expectations are disappointed, dreams are dashed, and lives are cut short. Things are not what they’re supposed to be. Ecclesiastes wants us to see life as it really is, so that we might approach life as we should. Ecclesiastes wounds in order to heal. Knowing that life is short and elusive, how then ought we to live now?
Ecclesiastes confronts us with this key question in Ecclesiastes 1:3: What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun? The word “gain” means more than a temporal, passing benefit. It refers to a substantial achievement or enduring profit. What long-lasting significance do we get after a lifetime of labour? The word “toil” brings to mind what God said to Adam after he fell into sin: “Cursed is the ground because of you; in pain you shall eat of it all the days of your life; thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you; and you shall eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread, till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return. (Gen. 3:17b-19)”
Ecclesiastes is an extended meditation on what it means to live in a fallen world. Because of sin, this world is under God’s curse. Everything is broken. Toil, trials and trouble are facts of normal life. Whether we believe in God or not, we all live and labour “under the sun”. In fact, the struggle can feel even sharper for those of us who are believers. We believe God and his promises, yet we live in the tension between what we know to be true and what we experience in life. Some Christians mistakenly think life will be better or easier as long as they have faith. Then, they feel bad or guilty when they struggle because they think they lack faith. For this reason, a book like Ecclesiastes is surprisingly comforting. It assures us that it is not strange for believers to wrestle with life under the sun. Do not diminish the burden of our toil; it’s real. And, it can be difficult, discouraging and disappointing. It can lead to frustration, bitterness, and even despair. What do we gain by all our toil? The implied answer to this question is nothing. For we are dust, and to dust we shall return.
The problem observed (Ecc 1:4-11)
Having posed the problem, the Preacher paints a stark picture in Ecclesiastes 1:4-11 of life under the sun based on what he observes. Written as a poem, these verses highlight the repetitiveness and purposelessness of life. This poem gives us three reasons why we gain nothing from all our toil.
We go round in circles (Ecc 1:4-7)
We go about our lives doing this or that. We think we’re making such a difference, but the irony of it is that we pass away while the world remains essentially unchanged. Look at Ecclesiastes 1:4. Multiple generations of people come and go, but the earth remains forever. We are fleeting and our toil is futile. We go round in circles without actually getting anywhere or accomplishing anything of true and lasting significance.
Does life feel like a treadmill? We keep running, but we are stuck in the same spot. Every day, we relive the relentless routine of the daily grind: wake, work, sleep, repeat. Parents caring for newborns, for example, are fatigued by the seemingly endless cycle of crying, feeding, diaper changes, and naps. The Preacher gets it. He feels the same way too. In Ecclesiastes 1:5-7, he illustrates the repetitiveness of life with the sun, the wind, and the sea. The sun rises, sets, then rises again. The wind blows from north to south, then south to north.
Life under the sun seems to go nowhere; it’s always the same old, same old. The monotony of the mundane is frustrating and futile.
In primary school science, I learned about the water cycle. The water in the oceans and seas evaporates. The water vapour condenses in the atmosphere to form clouds. Clouds produce precipitation, like rain or snow, which fills the oceans and the seas. And on and on it goes. Ecclesiastes 1:7 is the Preacher’s more poetic description of the water cycle: All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full; to the place where the streams flow, there they flow again. The cycles of sun, wind, and water go endlessly on. Similarly, our lives seem as though they are on constant “repeat”. We long for something new and different. So, we go on holidays, but even the most exotic and exciting destination can get routine and boring pretty quickly! And afterwards, we need a holiday to recover from the holiday. Life under the sun seems to go nowhere; it’s always the same old, same old. The monotony of the mundane is frustrating and futile.
We are not satisfied (Ecc 1:8-10)
The repetitiveness of life does not lead to satisfaction. Just as the sea is not full, even though it is fed repeatedly by streams of water, so the tedious routines of life leave us dissatisfied and unfulfilled. Listen to Ecclesiastes 1:8 — All things are full of weariness; a man cannot utter it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. We have seen it all; we have heard it all. Life is one big blah. Ecclesiastes 1:8 sounds like a life verse for bored teenagers. But it is not only for restless youth; the rest of us can also relate. The French have a good word to describe the weariness of life: ennui. It refers to a feeling of being indifferent, listless, disinterested, and mentally tired. Maybe ennui is what many of us feel on Mondays.
For some of us, weariness means burnout. According to a survey last year, nearly half of the workers in Singapore show symptoms of burnout. One out of every two of us feels mentally or physically exhausted by work. The grind of life has left us with nothing left in the tank. In 2019, the World Health Organisation recognised burn-out as a medical condition. But as we can see from Ecclesiastes 1:8, burn-out is not a recent problem. Indeed, there is nothing new under the sun. Not only are we going round in circles, but we are running to stand still. Life is like trying to walk up an escalator going downwards. It takes so much effort just to remain where we are. German sociologist Hartmut Rosa calls this “social acceleration”. Both individuals and institutions have to constantly strain, strive, gain, and grow, not to get ahead but in order to not fall behind. We are told to upskill and upgrade simply to ensure we still have a job. It is no wonder so many are burnt-out. Life and its incessant demands fill us with angst and anxiety. We are weary from doing so much and yet getting nowhere.
Living under the sun, we realise that new gets old very fast. There is nothing new that can change the fact that life is still fleeting, futile, uncontrollable, and absurd.
We long for something to break the repetitive cycle of life, but there is nothing new that can give us true and lasting satisfaction. Look at Ecclesiastes 1:9-10: “What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun. Is there a thing of which it is said, “See, this is new”? It has been already in the ages before us.” This does not mean there have not been new inventions or technological advancements since Ecclesiastes was written. What’s more, we live in culture that chases after new and novel things. But Ecclesiastes is making a more profound observation: even with all the apparent newness and progress around us, we still grapple with the age-old problem of hevel, or vanity. That new car you just bought will be scratched. It will get old. And, in 10 years’ time, it might end up as scrap when its COE expires. Living under the sun, we realise that new gets old very fast. There is nothing new that can change the fact that life is still fleeting, futile, uncontrollable, and absurd.
We will be gone and forgotten (Ecc 1:11)
We gain nothing from our toil under the sun because we go round in circles. We are not satisfied. And, third, we will be gone and forgotten. Listen to Eccesiastes 1:11: “There is no remembrance of former things, nor will there be any remembrance of later things yet to be among those who come after.” There is no lasting profit from our labour because we ourselves will not last. As Psalm 90 says, “The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away.” James in the New Testament says this of the wealthy in this world: “Like a flower of the grass he will pass away. For the sun rises with its scorching heat and withers the grass; its flower fails, and its beauty perishes. So also will the rich man fade away in the midst of his pursuits.” (Jas. 1:10b-11)
Not only do we fade away, but we will also be forgotten. Our closest family and friends may remember us, but they too will pass away. And then, how many future generations will remember us? Reflecting on this, I realised I do not even know the full names of my great-grandparents. Do you? Do we remember who they are, where they lived, what they did? It has been said that today’s celebrities are tomorrow’s obituaries. Even the famous will be forgotten. The older ones among us remember when Beatlemania was a thing. The Beatles were once the most famous pop music group on the planet. At the height of their popularity, one of them famously (infamously?) said, “We’re more popular than Jesus now.” Well, how many among us now can name each of the Beatles?
Death is the one thing in life that is certain. Every one of us, regardless of who we are or what we have done in this life, is headed to the same destination. Our life under the sun must one day come to an end. Death is impartial. It will happen to all of us. In time, we will no longer be remembered. As the hymn by Isaac Watts puts it:
Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.
Depressing, isn’t it? And you thought you were going to church for some encouragement! But I hope we will keep listening to Ecclesiastes. The Preacher’s goal is not simply to bring us down; he wounds in order to heal. In the rest of Ecclesiastes, he will take us on a quest to look at life under the sun. The Preacher seeks to expose life’s absurdity, emptiness, elusiveness, fleetingness, and futility. He wants us to see for ourselves that all is hevel, or vanity. Just as Shakespeare’s Macbeth had a moment of clarity amid his madness, so the goal of Ecclesiastes is to help us clearly see the reality of life under the sun. Do not be dazzled by the slick marketing and false advertising. Do not be taken in by the alluring promises of this passing world. Do not be deceived by the lies we tell ourselves, that we can do it all, that we can have it all, that we can live forever. Stop pretending that we are in complete control of our own lives. Ecclesiastes urges us to forsake pride and to embrace God’s wisdom. Our lives under the sun are but a brief candle, a walking shadow. Full of sound and fury, but signifying nothing. We will all die. So, Ecclesiastes teaches us to live in light of the end. As one author puts it, Ecclesiastes teaches us to live life backward. Knowing the end, how will we live now?
We are made for so much more than merely life under the sun. Ecclesiastes is a realistic book, but the darkness of its subject matter does not result in utter pessimism. Here and there, light pierces through the gloom. Ecclesiastes lays us low that it might lift us up with genuine hope, but only if we cast off the false hopes that weigh us down. Where is true hope to be found? Our passage does not say, but it does give us a clue. It primes us to hear from another Preacher who is also a son of David.
In the New Testament, the Gospel of Mark begins with these words: “Jesus came… proclaiming the gospel of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.” King Jesus, who is the greater son promised to David, has come to preach good news. He understands our struggles because he himself experienced hevel. Prophesying of Jesus, Isaiah 49 says He “laboured in vain” and “spent his strength for nothing and vanity”.
The gospel is the good news of what Jesus has done to save sinners. Although He is fully God, Jesus humbled Himself and entered our absurd world under the sun. Indeed, in the eyes of the world, Jesus’ life seemed to be for nothing. It was tragically cut short on a Roman cross. His ministry brought to an abrupt end, in apparent futility and failure as all his disciples deserted him. Yet, Jesus’ significance and success were not found under the sun. His life and death were not in vain. In the eyes of God the Father, Jesus obediently finished the work he was given to do. He died for sinners like us, taking on himself the curse of our sins so that we might be forgiven if we trust in him to save us.
And, Jesus did something truly new by rising from the dead. He is the new creation. Because of Jesus, we can have the sure hope of eternal life beyond this fleeting and futile life under the sun. He offers us true gain from his toil. He gives the weary true rest. In Christ, we can stop living for this life under the sun. We can look forward to a far better life to come. Jesus preaches good news to us. He gives us true success, significance, and meaning. Will we trust in Him?