Wonder and Disappointment
Welcome to a new book on our journey through the Bible. When I was nineteen, I hitchhiked across the country. I remember making my way from Arizona to Texas, then crossing into the bayou, across the Mississippi, and around Florida. Every step of the journey brought new wonders. I hope you are experiencing something similar today as we read Ecclesiastes 1–4.

First, as I traveled from Arizona into New Mexico—truly a Land of Enchantment up north, though along I-10—I felt disappointed. As Solomon wrote, “Vanity of vanities” (Eccles. 1:2 KJV). The NIV puts it this way: “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless” (Eccles. 1:2 NIV). When you strike out from home expecting something new, and you cross a state line only to find the same gas stations and road signs—just with a different zip code and highway patrol uniforms—it teaches you something. Life often feels like that.
Rhythm and Reason
I’ve left marriages thinking a different spouse would make life more interesting. It didn’t. I am who I am, and the person whose toes I was stepping on while dancing didn’t change my lack of rhythm. I’m not saying that I hadn’t changed, but that took time and effort. We often fall for the lie that changing our partners, our jobs, or even our church will make life different.

But the change must come from within. All else is vanity.

Solomon went out into the world seeking wisdom, believing something higher awaited him. It exists, but only Jesus can reveal it. Solomon wasn’t there yet. He sought answers in places, in food, among the leading teachers of his day. Nothing satisfied. He returned to Jerusalem disappointed and dejected.

As Matthew Henry reflects, “We here behold Solomon returning from the broken and empty cisterns of the world, to the Fountain of living water; recording his own folly and shame, the bitterness of his disappointment, and the lessons he had learned.” ¹
A Moment Lost
When I had made my way through Florida, I finally decided my foolish running was a waste of time. So I called home and made a plan to meet my parents in Ohio. They had my car and were planning to visit friends and family, anyway. I got on a Greyhound bus and headed north.

I saw poverty and industry, farmland and the sweet air of Kentucky—the humidity and tobacco sticking to your skin like memory. And along the way in Ohio, I met my grandfather. I never knew my real dad, or his dad, until that moment. It was only one afternoon, but it felt good to connect to that part of my heritage.

Only a few years later—before I even had another conversation with him—he died. Again, the Teacher was right: “Generations come and generations go” (Eccles. 1:4 NIV).
What Holds Value?
We place value in so many things. Family is important. I love mine dearly. I once found identity in the job I held, but now—unemployed—I realize that was vanity too (Eccles. 1:3). Money always seemed important, but, as they say, it’s only important if you like to eat.

In truth, all I have—and all I eat—comes from God. He can make my pennies sufficient or render thousands meaningless. So why would I put my faith in anything but Christ? (Acts 4:12).

At one point, I completely bought into Solomon’s attitude. What’s the point of anything?

But Matthew Henry provides the missing perspective: “Those that have taken warning to turn and live should warn others not to go on and die.” ²

We don’t choose the number of our days—God does. He has placed each of us here for a reason. The problem is we often misidentify that reason. We think it’s gaining riches, fame, raising children, or—as I once thought—to experience all this life can offer.

That just fills the calendar and wears the body down.

The soul continues on until God calls it home.
Take Stock
Look at your hands. What are they building that really matters? We live in a constant hurry—but where are our feet taking us? And when we get there, do we actually make use of the destination?

Most of the time we don’t. We just add to the mileage. We fill our senses with new things and experiences—but that, too, is vanity (Eccles. 1:8). Later, our joints ache from the journey, but while we were walking, did we ever witness to anyone about what God was doing in our lives?

Then it ends.

I remember when my mother went to the hospital with chest pains. I visited her. We talked about Jesus. She was always a fighter, so I went to work the next day.

Then my sister called: my mother had died.

As I sat at my desk, all I could think was: What was so important that I wasn’t there with my mom?

Nothing.

Solomon was right—it was all vanity.
Tomorrow, we will read Ecclesiastes 5-8.
Citations

Matthew Henry, Commentary on the Whole Bible: Volume III: Job to Song of Solomon, (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1991), Ecclesiastes 1.

Ibid.