Reflections with Andy - Ecclesiastes 1: 1-11 - Vanity, Vanity, All is Vanity
Today we start our journey through Ecclesiastes. We find that all of us, throughout all time, have been searching for meaning in life.
In this Wednesday reflection that opens a new series in Ecclesiastes, the shift from the New Testament epistles to Old Testament wisdom literature is grounded in a simple observation: we are always searching for meaning, and most of the things we search in come up empty. The Teacher — almost certainly Solomon — opens with one of Scripture’s most sobering refrains: vanity of vanities, all is vanity. Generations rise and fall, the wind circles, the sea never fills, and most of us will be forgotten within a few generations. Rather than finding that depressing, the reflection finds it liberating: there is nothing new under the sun, which means we are not alone in our struggles. The same search for meaning, the same temptations, the same sense of emptiness in earthly things — people have faced all of it before us. Solomon had everything the world could offer and still found himself asking whether any of it meant anything. The answer Ecclesiastes is building toward, and the answer the reflection points to now, is that meaning cannot come from accomplishments, stuff, status, or even the people we love most. Only Jesus can be the source of meaning that holds — and when he is, everything else finds its proper place.
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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Wednesday as we start something new. We finished Jude — and those little New Testament epistles we’ve been working through — so today we’re shifting to the Old Testament. Specifically, we’re heading into the wisdom literature, and we’re going to start with Ecclesiastes.
Just a quick orientation if you’re not as familiar with how the Bible is organized. After the Torah — the five books of Moses — you have the histories, then the wisdom literature, then the major and minor prophets. In the New Testament you have the Gospels, Acts, Paul’s letters, the general epistles we’ve just finished, and then Revelation. The wisdom literature in the Old Testament includes Psalms, Proverbs, Job, Song of Solomon, and Ecclesiastes. These books are meant to be read somewhat poetically — almost metaphorically — rather than as straight history or law.
Psalms is the hymnal of the Jewish people — the songs they sang on the way to the temple, the poetry that marked their daily lives. I’d encourage you to read the Psalms often; they’re a gift. Proverbs is practical wisdom about how to live. Song of Solomon is a poem of love. Job is a profound meditation on suffering. And Ecclesiastes is a meditation on meaning — on the search for purpose and identity in life.
And honestly, I think Ecclesiastes might be one of the most relevant books in the Bible for where we are right now. Because we are always searching for meaning, aren’t we? In our work, our hobbies, our kids, our status, our homes, our accomplishments. And most of the time — if we’re honest — those things don’t ultimately give us what we’re looking for. That’s the story of Ecclesiastes. The Teacher searches everywhere for meaning and keeps coming up empty. Let’s read chapter 1, verses 1 through 11:
“The words of the Teacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem. Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity. What do people gain from all the toil at which they toil under the sun? A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever. The sun rises and the sun goes down, and hurries to its place where it rises. The wind blows to the south, and goes around to the north; round and round 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 continue to flow. All things are wearisome; more than one can express; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, or the ear filled with hearing. What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun. Is there a thing of which it is said, ‘See, this is new’? It has already been, in the ages before us. The people of long ago are not remembered, nor will there be any remembrance of people yet to come by those who come after them.”
Well. Upbeat stuff. Very cheery opening. The Teacher is not easing us in gently.
Vanity of vanities — all is vanity. Meaningless. Empty. And then that haunting observation: the people of long ago are not remembered, nor will those yet to come be remembered by those who follow them. Most of us will be forgotten. I tell people — think about it honestly. We’ll be grieved by our children, maybe our grandchildren, possibly our great-grandchildren if we’re very blessed. But five generations from now? We’re just a line on an ancestry register. The wind blows, the streams run to a sea that never fills, the sun rises and sets and does it all again. Nothing new under the sun.
And I actually find that phrase freeing rather than depressing. Because it means we are not alone in what we’re facing. The struggles we have — the search for meaning, the temptations, the feeling of being lost in the noise — none of it is new. We talked all through First, Second, and Third John about Gnosticism and disembodied thinking and the pull of culture away from Jesus. Different era, same problem. Nothing new under the sun. You’re not the first person to battle what you’re battling. You’re not the first person to struggle to find meaning. People have walked this road before you, and there is wisdom to be learned from those who’ve gone before.
Most scholars believe the Teacher is Solomon, though he doesn’t name himself directly. It just fits — if you know Solomon’s story, you know this is a man who had everything. Wisdom, wealth, power, pleasure, accomplishment, status. He had it all. And now he sits at the end of looking at all of it and asks: did any of it actually mean anything? Did any of it fill the hole?
And here’s where Ecclesiastes is going to take us over these next few days: meaning will not come from accomplishments, from stuff, from the praise of other people. It just won’t. I like my stuff — my phone, my computer, I enjoy my things. But they can’t be my source of meaning. I love my children with everything in me. I love Holly with every fiber of my being. But they cannot define my identity or give me my purpose. Only Jesus can do that. And when Jesus is the source of our meaning, everything else — the good things, the hard things, all of it — falls into its proper place.
So Solomon opens with vanity of vanities, all is vanity — and if we try to find our meaning in the stuff of this world, we’ll be joining that chorus. Let’s find our meaning in Jesus. Because that’s worth finding.
Tomorrow we’ll pick up with chapter 1, verse 12. See you then!