Bird's-eye view
In this brief but potent snapshot, the Preacher, Qoheleth, turns his gaze to another specific example of the vaporous nature of life "under the sun." He presents us with a portrait of radical, self-inflicted isolation. Here is a man who is a walking, breathing island, completely disconnected from covenantal relationships. He has no "second man," no son, no brother. Yet, paradoxically, his life is one of ceaseless, grinding labor. The central tension of the passage is the profound disconnect between the man's frantic effort and the utter lack of purpose for it all. He accumulates wealth, but his eye is never satisfied, and he is haunted by the question, "For whom am I laboring?" This is not just a bad mood; the Preacher diagnoses it as a "grievous endeavor." It is a picture of the life that has embraced the lie of individualism, a life that has forgotten that man was created for fellowship, first with God and then with others. The passage serves as a stark backdrop for the commendation of companionship that immediately follows.
This is a key exhibit in the Preacher's case. He is demonstrating that if you strip away covenant, family, and fellowship, all you are left with is the raw absurdity of labor for its own sake. The man is a slave to his own appetites, chasing a horizon that constantly recedes. The tragedy is not that he works hard, for Scripture commends diligence. The tragedy is that his work is utterly detached from love, legacy, and relationship. It is a closed loop of toil and accumulation that benefits no one, not even, in the final analysis, himself. He is a man with a thousand cans of peaches, but no can opener, and no one to share them with even if he could get one open.
Outline
- 1. The Isolated Man's Folly (Eccl 4:7-8)
- a. The Preacher's Renewed Observation of Vanity (Eccl 4:7)
- b. The Portrait of Isolation (Eccl 4:8a)
- i. A Man Alone: Without a Second
- ii. A Man Without Posterity: No Son
- iii. A Man Without Kin: No Brother
- c. The Paradox of His Labor (Eccl 4:8b)
- i. His Unending Toil
- ii. His Unsatisfied Eye
- d. The Haunting Question and Final Verdict (Eccl 4:8c)
- i. The Cry of a Wasted Life: "For whom?"
- ii. The Preacher's Diagnosis: Vanity and a Grievous Endeavor
Context In Ecclesiastes
This passage follows a section where the Preacher has observed the miseries of oppression (4:1-3) and the vanity of labor driven by envy (4:4-6). He is systematically examining the various motivations and conditions of life "under the sun." Having just concluded that a "handful of quietness is better than two handfuls of toil and a striving after wind," this portrait of the isolated laborer serves as a case study. It is a perfect illustration of someone with two full handfuls of toil who has utterly forsaken quietness. The passage is strategically placed to set up the subsequent verses (4:9-12), which extol the virtues of companionship. The misery of the one is the foil against which the blessing of the two is highlighted. This is part of the Preacher's broader argument that life lived apart from God's created design, which includes meaningful relationships, will inevitably dissolve into hevel, a chasing after the wind.
Key Issues
- The Nature of Individualism
- The Purpose of Labor
- The Deception of Riches
- The Necessity of Covenant Community
- The Meaning of "Vanity" (Hevel)
The Miser's Question
The central question of this passage, "And for whom am I laboring?" is the cry of a man who has suddenly woken up in the middle of his own meaningless life. He has been running on a hamster wheel of his own making, and for a brief moment, he stops, looks around, and realizes the wheel is in a cage that is going nowhere. This is the question that every form of godless materialism must eventually face. If the accumulation of stuff is the goal, the question "why" becomes unanswerable. For the Christian, the answer is immediate and multi-faceted. We labor for the glory of God. We labor to provide for our families. We labor to build the church and to have resources to be generous to others. We labor to exercise dominion over creation as God commanded. Our work is aimed outward and upward. But for the man in this passage, work is a snake eating its own tail. It is for himself, but it does not satisfy him. It is for riches, but riches are never enough. His question reveals the bankruptcy of a life lived solely for the self.
Verse by Verse Commentary
7 Then I looked again at vanity under the sun.
The Preacher returns to his central theme. The phrase "under the sun" defines the realm of his investigation. He is looking at the world from a purely observational, horizontal perspective. When you look at life this way, without factoring in the reality of a sovereign God who stands over and outside of it, you are confronted again and again with hevel, which means vapor, smoke, or futility. It is not that life is meaningless in a nihilistic sense, but that it is transient, repetitive, and full of absurdities that cannot be resolved from our limited vantage point. He says, "I looked again," indicating that this is another exhibit in his mounting case file. This is another piece of evidence for his thesis.
8 There was a certain man without a second man, having neither a son nor a brother, yet there was no end to all his labor.
Here is the subject of his observation. The description is stark. He is "without a second man", he is utterly alone. This is not just a bachelor; this is a man disconnected from all meaningful human relationships. To drive the point home, the Preacher specifies the two most basic covenantal relationships a man has: posterity ("neither a son") and kinship ("nor a brother"). He has no one to inherit his work and no one to share his life with. He is a covenantal dead end. And yet, the paradox is introduced immediately: "there was no end to all his labor." You would think that a man with no obligations would take it easy. But no, he is driven. His isolation does not lead to leisure but to ceaseless toil. This is because his work is not a means to a greater end, like blessing his family; it has become the end in itself. He is a worshipper at the altar of his own effort.
Indeed, his eyes were not satisfied with riches,
The Preacher now looks inside the man's head. What drives this pointless labor? It is an insatiable appetite for more. His "eyes were not satisfied with riches." This is the very nature of covetousness. It is a hunger that grows with feeding. No matter how much he accumulates, it is never enough. The finish line is a mirage. This is a profound spiritual diagnosis. When a man is not satisfied in God, he will not be satisfied by anything God has made. Riches promise security and happiness, but for the man living "under the sun," they deliver neither. They only fuel the desire for more riches. He is a slave to his own retina.
“And for whom am I laboring and depriving myself of good?”
Here, the Preacher gives voice to the man's own dawning horror. It is a moment of terrible clarity. He is not just working hard; he is "depriving myself of good." In his frantic pursuit of wealth, he has denied himself the simple joys of life that wealth is supposed to provide. He doesn't enjoy his food, his rest, or his possessions because he is too busy trying to get more of them. And for what? For whom? The question hangs in the air because there is no answer. Not for a son. Not for a brother. Not for the church. Not for the poor. Not for God's glory. The horrifying answer is: for nothing. He has sacrificed his life for a cause that does not exist.
This too is vanity, and it is a grievous endeavor.
This is the Preacher's final verdict on the matter. First, it is hevel, vanity. It is a puff of smoke, a chasing after the wind. The man's entire life's work is insubstantial and will dissipate into nothing. But it is more than just futile; it is a "grievous endeavor." The Hebrew word means a sore, painful, miserable business. This is not a neutral observation. This kind of life is a tragedy. It is a heavy, burdensome, and ultimately sad way to live. It is a bad affliction, a rotten way to go through the world. The man is not to be admired for his work ethic; he is to be pitied for his folly.
Application
This passage is a direct assault on the modern Western ideal of the rugged individualist, the self-made man who needs no one. Scripture teaches that this is not a strength but a profound curse. We were created for community. A Christian without a church, a man without a family, a believer without brothers and sisters is as unnatural as a lung without air. This passage forces us to ask the "for whom" question about our own lives. For whom do you work? For whom do you save? For whom do you build?
If the answer is simply "for me," then you are on the same miserable treadmill as the man in this passage. The gospel frees us from this grievous endeavor. In Christ, we are adopted into a family. We have a Father in heaven and countless brothers and sisters on earth. Our labor is no longer a chasing after the wind, but is caught up in the great project of building Christ's kingdom. We work to provide for our own, to be generous to those in need, to support the work of the gospel, and to leave a godly inheritance for our children. Our work has a point. It is directed toward others for the glory of God.
Furthermore, the gospel is the only cure for the unsatisfied eye. The man in this passage could not be satisfied with riches because he was created to be satisfied by God. All our striving for more is ultimately a misplaced quest for the infinite. When we find our satisfaction in Christ, who is the pearl of great price, we are finally freed from the tyranny of the urgent and the endless desire for more. We can receive wealth as a gift and a tool, not as a taskmaster. We receive both the can of peaches and the can opener, which is the gift of enjoying what God has given us in the context of loving relationships. That is the difference between a grievous endeavor and a joyful dominion.