Commentary - Ecclesiastes 1:1-11

Bird's-eye view

In this opening salvo, Solomon, the Preacher, lays down the foundational problem that the rest of the book will address. From the limited vantage point of a man living "under the sun," all of life appears to be an endless, wearisome cycle of futility. He introduces the key term of the book, hebel, translated as "vanity," which describes the transient, ephemeral nature of all earthly endeavors when they are disconnected from their Creator. This is not the final word, but it is the necessary first word. Before we can appreciate the gospel solution, we must first have a thoroughly biblical diagnosis of the problem. Solomon, speaking as the man who had everything the world could offer, is uniquely qualified to tell us that it is not enough.

The Preacher methodically dismantles any hope of finding ultimate meaning in the natural cycles of the world, in human labor, or in the pursuit of novelty. Generations come and go, the sun and wind and rivers run in endless loops, and human appetites are never satisfied. History itself is a repeating pattern, and our brief moment on this stage is destined to be forgotten. This is the stark reality of the fallen world, and it is a reality that must be confronted before we can hear the book's glorious conclusion: "Fear God and keep his commandments."

Outline

Context In Ecclesiastes

These first eleven verses serve as the introduction and thesis statement for the entire book. The Preacher, Solomon, begins not with a word of cheer, but with a bucket of cold water. He must first demolish all our false hopes and worldly aspirations. This section establishes the book's central problem: the meaninglessness of life when lived solely "under the sun." This phrase, which appears nearly thirty times in Ecclesiastes, defines the scope of the initial investigation. It is an examination of life from a purely horizontal, earthbound perspective, bracketing out, for the sake of argument, the reality of God's sovereign purposes. The rest of the book is Solomon's inspired exploration of this problem, culminating in the only possible solution, which is to look above the sun.

Key Issues

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem.

Right out of the gate, the author establishes his credentials. This is not the idle speculation of some armchair philosopher. The speaker is Qoheleth, the Preacher, the one who gathers an assembly. And he is not just anyone; he is the son of David, the king in Jerusalem. This points directly and unmistakably to Solomon. Why is this important? Because Solomon represents the apex of human wisdom, wealth, and power. He had a thousand wives and concubines, built the Temple, wrote thousands of proverbs, and had gold coming out of his ears. If anyone could find lasting satisfaction in the things of this world, it was him. His testimony, therefore, carries immense weight. He has been to the top of the mountain of human achievement and has come back to tell us that there is nothing there.

2 “Vanity of vanities,” says the Preacher, “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity.”

Here is the thesis, stated in the strongest possible terms. The Hebrew word is hebel. It literally means breath, vapor, or a puff of smoke. It is here used in the Hebrew superlative, "vanity of vanities," much like "holy of holies." This is the most profound, ultimate kind of vanity. The Preacher is saying that everything, when viewed from a certain angle, is like trying to grab a handful of fog. It is transient, ephemeral, fleeting, and ultimately insubstantial. This is not a statement of ultimate reality, but rather a description of reality as it appears to fallen man living in a fallen world. It is the necessary diagnosis before the cure can be prescribed. If you try to build your life on the things of this world, you are building on smoke.

3 What advantage does man have in all his labor in which he labors under the sun?

This is the central question that drives the book's inquiry. The word for "advantage" is yithron, which means surplus, profit, or what is left over. After all the sweat, toil, and striving, what is the net gain? What truly lasts? And notice the crucial qualifier: "under the sun." This phrase sets the boundaries for the investigation. It refers to the observable, created world, considered apart from divine revelation. From this perspective, man works and works, and at the end of his life, what does he have to show for it that death does not simply erase? The answer, from this vantage point, is nothing.

4-7 A generation goes and a generation comes, but the earth stands forever. Also, the sun rises and the sun sets; and hastening to its place it rises there again. Going toward the south, then circling toward the north, the wind goes circling along; and on its circular courses the wind returns. All the rivers go into the sea, yet the sea is not full. To the place where the rivers go, there they continually go.

Solomon now turns to the natural world to illustrate his point. He presents four examples of constant motion that never arrives at any final destination. First, human generations are like a revolving door, a stark contrast to the seeming permanence of the earth. We are the fleeting ones. Second, the sun runs its course every day, a monotonous, wearying race that just starts over the next morning. Third, the wind blows in circuits, never seeming to go anywhere new. Fourth, the rivers pour endlessly into the sea, yet the sea is never filled. This is a picture of immense activity with no ultimate progress or satisfaction. It is a treadmill. This is what the fallen world looks like: a closed system of endless, repetitive cycles, indifferent to the strivings of man.

8 All things are wearisome; man is not able to speak of it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing.

The conclusion from observing these cycles is a deep, existential weariness. The problem is so profound that it is beyond words; "man is not able to speak of it." He then turns from the macrocosm of nature to the microcosm of human experience. Our senses, our gateways to the world, are insatiable. No matter how much we see, we want to see more. No matter how much we hear, we want to hear more. This is the ache of a soul created for an infinite God, trying to find satisfaction in finite things. As Augustine said, our hearts are restless until they find their rest in Him. The world under the sun can never fill the God-shaped hole in our hearts.

9-10 That which has been is that which will be, and that which has been done is that which will be done. So there is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which one might say, “See this, it is new”? Already it has been for ages which were before us.

Here the Preacher demolishes the myth of progress. For the man living under the sun, there is no real novelty. Technology changes, fashions come and go, empires rise and fall, but the fundamental nature of man and the patterns of history remain the same. The same sins, the same follies, the same ambitions, just in different costumes. The latest "new thing" that everyone is excited about is just a rehashing of something ancient. This is a direct assault on the humanistic hope that man can, through his own ingenuity, create a new and better world. The only truly new thing that can break into this cycle must come from outside of it, from above the sun. That new thing is Jesus Christ, who makes all things new.

11 There is no remembrance of earlier things; and also of the later things which will be, there will be for them no remembrance among those who will come later still.

This is the final nail in the coffin of worldly ambition. Not only is your labor unprofitable and your innovations not really new, but you and all your works will be utterly forgotten. The great men of ages past are, for the most part, dust and forgotten names. And the great men of today will suffer the same fate. The desire for a lasting legacy, for a name that endures, is one of the deepest drivers of human endeavor. And Solomon tells us that, under the sun, it is a fool's errand. The only remembrance that matters is to have your name written in the Lamb's Book of Life. All other memorials will be washed away by the tides of time.

Application

The message of this passage is a severe mercy. It is designed to strip us of our idols and our self-reliance. The modern man, just like the ancient man, is tempted to find his ultimate meaning in his career, his possessions, his experiences, or his legacy. Solomon tells us that this is like building a house on a foundation of mist. All of it is hebel.

But for the Christian, this diagnosis is not a cause for despair, but rather a reason for profound joy and gratitude. Why? Because we know that life is not limited to what is "under the sun." We serve a God who is above the sun, who has broken into this wearisome cycle through the incarnation, death, and resurrection of His Son. Because of Christ, our labor is not in vain in the Lord (1 Cor. 15:58). Because of Christ, we are part of a new creation where old things have passed away and all things have become new (2 Cor. 5:17). Because of Christ, our names are remembered forever in heaven.

Therefore, this passage should drive us to our knees in repentance for all the ways we have sought life and satisfaction in the vanity of this world. And it should raise us to our feet in joyful worship of the one true God, who alone gives meaning, purpose, and eternal profit to our fleeting lives.