“Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity” (Ecc. 1:2).
I’ve been reading Ecclesiastes in my quiet time. Every time I read through the book, it feels like someone turned on the light in the dark recesses of my life, pointing out things I hadn’t noticed before. It would be like if a gemologist were to look up close at my wedding ring and point out that it doesn’t really have diamonds in it after all. I’d then look at it with new eyes and notice its flaws. What once was shiny would quickly lose its luster. I’d realize that what I once thought was valuable, had no value at all. This is what the teacher does in Ecclesiastes; he shows us the vanity of life under the sun.
Throughout the book of Ecclesiastes, the teacher shares insight into his own life experiences. He has pursued everything there is to pursue in life. He’s tried it all. He’s accumulated it all. He’s witnessed it all. And he’s found little to write home about. He sums it up as meaningless or vanity. The Hebrew word used for “vanity” in Ecclesiastes 1:2 is hebel. It means vapor or breath. It’s a word that describes the transitory nature of things. It’s like a breath that is breathed out and immediately dissipates in the air. Hebel describes things that have no form or structure, they are empty; they cannot contain anything.
The teacher uses this word throughout the book to describe life “under the sun.” That is, life from our earthly, finite perspective. The teacher observes that people work hard, they pursue and enjoy the pleasures of this life, and then they die. All that they have worked for is then passed on to someone else who won’t appreciate it or will likely lose or waste it. All the pursuits and pleasures of life, once experienced, are gone. The things we put our time and energy into all too soon fade away. They lose their luster. They show themselves worthless.
Vapor. Breath. Meaningless.
I can’t help but think of the early church father, Augustine. He pursued the pleasures and vanities of this life. He looked for meaning and purpose in things, relationships, knowledge, and experience, but found them fleeting. He wrote in his work, Confessions, about his life, “For it was my sin, that not in Him, but in His creatures—myself and others—I sought for pleasures, sublimities, truths, and so fell headlong into sorrows, confusions, errors.” He even tried various religions and philosophies, thinking they would help him find what he was looking for, but he still felt restless and lost. It wasn’t until he read the Bible and was converted to Christ that his restlessness finally stilled. He wrote, “Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless, until it repose {rest} in Thee.” When Augustine found Christ, he found what his heart longed for all along.
It isn’t until we see things from a different perspective, from “above the sun” rather than “under the sun,” that things change. It’s when we see the world in light of eternity that we see what truly matters—what truly satisfies. Then we see that the pleasures we’ve labored so hard to achieve are really like playing in the mud when we could enjoy a trip to the sea. As C.S. Lewis describes, “It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” The truth is, the little joys of life exist to point us to the greatest Joy. We’ve wasted precious time dancing with shadows when we could have experienced Life itself.
Ecclesiastes reminds my heart how easily I confuse the shadows for the substance. It reminds me that when I focus my life and heart on things “under the sun” and forget about the One who rules “above the sun” I am only grasping at vapor, with what is fleeting and temporary. The teacher reminds me that life is meant for something greater, for Someone greater. That real life—real fulfilling, lasting, meaningful, glorious life—is found only in the One who created it.
The teacher ends his book with this conclusion: “Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man” (Ecc. 12:13). We don’t know much about what is above the sun other than that God rules over the universe. We don’t know much about eternity past, other than that God has always been there. We don’t know what will occur in eternity future, just that it is in God’s hands. In the span of time, we are but vapor; our lives are merely a breath. The conclusion then is this, to live our lives in the fear of the One who knows all things. To live for his glory and praise. To live for and pursue that which is lasting, that which is eternal, that which is of substance.
And that’s where real Joy resides, not in the shadow, but in the substance.
