The Search for Satisfaction
Note: This sermon was preached at First Free Wichita in Sunday at Six.
“Stop the World! I Want to Get Off,” is the message of a Broadway musical of a number of years back. Did you ever feel that way? Don’t be afraid to admit it. The wisest man who ever lived felt that way. He looked at the jigsaw puzzle known as human life and desperately tried to fit all the pieces together. He tried to find the key to life but he discovered it was lost and at times he nearly despaired of hope.
The reason is that he conducted his search from the bottom side of the rug. For those who were not with us last Sunday, we compared Solomon’s perception of the universe in the book of Ecclesiastes to a Persian rug. When viewed from the top, as God sees His creation, the design is exquisite, the colors are beautifully blended and the texture is smooth and even. However, when viewed from the bottom, as finite man sees it, the universe has only faint hints of design, the colors are mixed instead of blended, and the texture is rough and uneven.
Solomon’s purpose in stressing the bottom side of the rug is not to cause despair and disillusionment, but rather he wants us to be realistic, to be honest with the facts, and ultimately to see more clearly that God Himself, and God alone, holds the key to life. And since God has never promised to give us the key to unlock life’s enigmas and answer all our questions, the only alternative we have is to get better acquainted with the locksmith and trust Him with the keys.
In the first eleven verses of chapter one Solomon examined three broad categories in his search for the key to life: human history, physical nature, and human nature. In our passage today he narrows his search to his own personal experience. In a sense he takes us on his own spiritual sojourn as he searches for satisfaction and meaning in life, and almost comes up empty again.
The Preacher’s search begins with knowledge.
The pursuit of knowledge is futile.
Education is almost a sacred cow in America today. Though there are frequent complaints verbalized about the effectiveness of our educational system, many Americans seem to feel that a college education is a basic human right. One gets the impression that a good education will almost by itself turn a bum into a baron, a sinner into a saint, a good‑for‑nothing into a productive citizen. Solomon, I believe, would challenge such an evaluation. And he brings fairly good credentials to the argument. I don’t know whether he had any degrees, but he did have a greater degree of knowledge and wisdom than any other person who ever lived besides Christ Himself.
He tells us in verse 13 that he purposely set out to find the ultimate principles behind everything in the universe. I assume he studied literature and art, psychology and sociology, astronomy and physics, theology and philosophy. But he found his search to be a grievous task, for there are so many things that yield no answers even when assaulted by the highest of human intelligence.
Even the best education is powerless against life’s enigmas. (12‑17) Everywhere Solomon turned with his knowledge and wisdom he found meaninglessness. Things that were crooked to his mind he couldn’t straighten out; and there were many gaps he couldn’t fill in. Solomon was like the modern evolutionist in that he found missing links everywhere, but he was different in that instead of putting his faith in blind chance and hoping against hope that the missing links will yet appear, he was willing to acknowledge the futility of the search.
In verses 16 and 17 the Preacher repeats for us, lest we forget, that he excelled in knowledge, and even studied its opposite—madness and folly—to make certain he had the complete picture. One wonders whether he perhaps anticipated that 20th century philosophical question, “How do you know for sure that the people in the asylums aren’t really sane and that all the rest of us are really insane?” Solomon claims to know both sides of the fence and calls both “a chasing after wind.”
Education actually compounds our sense of futility. Verse 18: “For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief.” A man once asked, “Would you rather be Socrates unsatisfied or a pig satisfied?” Think about that for a moment, for I believe the question brings us close to Solomon’s thoughts here. There are human pigs who work, eat, watch TV, sleep, eat, work, eat some more, watch TV, sleep, etc. We call them couch potatoes. They don’t get ulcers; they don’t have tension headaches, they don’t have to see psychiatrists; they’re satisfied. Is theirs the ideal life?
I would say, “Of course not,” but before choosing the alternative, we ought to know that we are choosing grief and pain at the same time. The more knowledge we acquire, the more we realize just how ignorant we are. As Socrates himself said, “I am the wisest of all Greeks, because I of all men know that I know nothing.” The more we are educated in current events, the more serious the world’s problems appear. The better we understand the vastness of our universe, the more insignificant we become. In other words, increasing knowledge often compounds our sense of futility. So the pursuit of knowledge is not the answer to life’s dilemmas.
We hasten on to the second of Solomon’s pursuits—that of pleasure, and again we get the same message:
The pursuit of pleasure is futile. (2: 1‑11)
In the first eight verses of chapter 2 Solomon speaks of at least six kinds of pleasure he tried out in his effort to find satisfaction. Comedy is the first.
Comedy (2). “Laughter,” I said, “is foolish.” I don’t know if the comics he listened to were as bad as the ones we see on TV today, but if so, I’m not surprised he labeled it “madness.” Take the leading humorists of our day—Rodney Dangerfield, Steve Martin, Joan Rivers, Don Rickles, Phyllis Diller, Johnny Carson—do you really think they are sincerely satisfied with life? Has humor given them an inside track on human happiness? Hardly.
Wine (3). Now this doesn’t mean he was getting stoned—he was too smart for that. Getting drunk for pleasure is about as dumb as jumping off a ten‑story building to enjoy the breeze. He states clearly for us that he didn’t drink so much that it would prevent his mind from guiding him wisely. However, he learned that even a moderate use of wine barely takes the edge off the feelings of futility.
Irrationality. Verse 3 says, “I tried cheering myself with wine, and embracing folly.” One of Francis Schaeffer’s most significant contributions was the tracing of irrational thinking in 20th century politics, philosophy, and art. The senseless racial uprisings of the 60’s, the violent student protests of the early 70’s, and the absolutely mindless terrorism of the 80’s all demonstrate that a significant group of people have retreated from rational political procedures into the politics of irrationality.
Modern art, too, has drafted a statement about the universe to the effect that realism and rationality are bankrupt and the only hope lies in the world of the irrational. Artists seem to compete with one another to see who can produce the most outrageous and bizarre kinds of art. In philosophy existentialism still exerts a strong influence. It is a philosophy of irrationality, advocating the view that the world is absurd, meaningless, haphazard, and that is how we must live. To the existentialist the most important philosophical question is, “Why not end it all right now?” My thesis adviser at SMU, who was an existentialist, asked that question many times in the classroom. He then went out and committed suicide! But the search for satisfaction, Solomon found, does not end in the world of the irrational.
Aesthetics (4‑6) is the next avenue of pleasure Solomon traveled. His buildings, vineyards, gardens, and irrigation canals mentioned in vs. 4‑6 are legendary. From the description given us in the OT, I imagine his flair for beauty would make most of our modern architecture pale into insignificance. The Solomonic temple is known to be one of the most magnificent buildings of all time, and yet 1 Kings 6:38 and 7:1 tell us that while it took 7 years for thousands of artisans to build the temple, it took 13 years to build Solomon’s own house! Imagine what that looked like! But did all this beauty satisfy? No, it didn’t. So he next tried ostentatious luxury—consumerism gone mad.
Unbridled luxury (7-8). He bought more and more slaves and even bred them. He amassed larger herds than anyone before him. He collected gold and silver and all manner of luxurious gifts from other kings and countries. He decided that he would possess more stuff than anyone else ever had. Still no satisfaction. So finally he tried sensual pleasure.
Sensuality (8). He provided himself with the best of musical entertainment and female companionship. I Kings tells us Solomon had 700 wives, 300 concubines, and many other lady friends besides. Over 1000 women, available to him any time of the day or night! Surely that ended his search for satisfaction, didn’t it? Well, it ended his close relationship with God, but it didn’t end his quest for meaning and significance. It only left him bored, empty, and frustrated.
Solomon summarizes his pursuit of pleasure with his own analysis in verses 9‑11:
“I became greater by far than anyone in Jerusalem before me. In all this my wisdom stayed with me (in other words, I didn’t go nuts; I kept my head through it all). I denied myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure. My heart took delight in all my work, and this was the reward for all my labor. Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun.”
I cannot help but think here of Jesus’ question in Mark 8:36: “What does it profit a man if he should gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” Solomon would answer, “Nothing! It profits him nothing at all.”
E. Stanley Jones tells about a fictional person who lived out a fantasy life. All he had to do was think of something, and it happened. So he imagines a mansion and (poof!) he has a 15‑bedroom mansion with servants available to wait upon his every need. Then he imagines that he needs several fine cars and immediately there are several of the finest vehicles in his driveway. Next we wishes for a chauffeur and all of a sudden he is being driven wherever he wishes. There’s no other place to go so he comes back home and wishes for a sumptuous meal and there it is with all its mouth‑watering aromas and beauty, which he eats alone.
Finally, he grows so terribly bored and unchallenged, receiving everything he wants merely by imagining it, that he whispers to one of his servants, “I want to get out of this. I want to work and create something again. I’d rather be in hell than be here.” To which the servant replies, “Where do you think you are?”
You see, our whole society is telling us, “If it feels good, do it.” Solomon says, “It won’t work. You can earn more, spend more, collect more, drink more, eat more, sin more, but none of those things will put meaning into life.” Solomon, who trafficked in pleasure and lived to tell about it, can save us a lifetime of heartache if we will listen to what he says.
So far we have seen that the pursuit of knowledge is futile and the pursuit of pleasure is futile.
The pursuit of wisdom is futile.
Solomon has already talked about knowledge and wisdom at the end of chapter one, so perhaps he is going back to the subject rather than pursuing a new topic, but I prefer to think that his previous discussion dealt primarily with the acquiring of knowledge or education, while now he is more concerned with the application of knowledge or wisdom. He concedes that wisdom has certain advantages over ignorance. Wisdom excels folly as light excels darkness, and the wise man is to the fool as a man with eyes is to a blind man. However, despite its advantages, even the remarkable gift of wisdom falls under the general condemnation of meaninglessness on at least two counts.
The wise man and the fool die alike. At the end of verse 14 he says, “The same fate overtakes them both. Then I thought in my heart, ‘The fate of the fool will overtake me also. What then do I gain by being wise?’ I said in my heart, ‘This too is meaningless.'” The grim reaper stalks the wise and the fool, the righteous and the wicked, the believer and the unbeliever. Death is the great leveler, and if it makes no distinctions, then why bother to be overly wise? Why not act the fool if we all end up in the same grave anyway? Derek Kidner wrote, “If, as we might put it, every card in our hand will be trumped, does it matter how we play?”[i]
Both are forgotten. Verse 16 continues: “For the wise man, like the fool, will not be long remembered; in days to come both will be forgotten.” A good case could actually be made for the fact that fools are remembered longer than the wise. At least they tend to get more press.
And what is Solomon’s response to all this? He says in verse 17, “So I hated life.” Notice carefully that he doesn’t say, “So I hate life,” but “I hated life.” This is not his final conclusion, not even his present outlook, but it was his attitude when his pursuit of wisdom turned up a dry hole—he despaired of even living.
So far he has pursued knowledge, pleasure and wisdom. His personal experience takes him on one more excursion, but the result is the same.
The pursuit of work is futile. (2:17‑23)
Now I’d probably find a significant number of people who would agree on this particular issue, for all of us at one time or another lose interest in our work and wonder if it’s even worth it. But let’s see the reasons behind Solomon’s analysis.
You can’t take it with you. Verse 18 says, “I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun, because I must leave it to the one who comes after me.” It’s a pretty sure bet that Solomon was a Type‑A personality. Chuck Swindoll describes the routine: “Work, work, work. Think. Compete. Strategize. Plan. Sacrifice. Travel. Worry. Skip vacations. Add hours. Increase responsibility. Scratch the right back. Invest. Save. Risk. Work, work, work! Then, when everything is in place, when all the ducks are in a row, wham!”[ii] You’re dead and you have to leave it all to others. That is a fact that applies to every one of us. King Tut tried to take it with him, and we smile at the futility of his effort. But millions after him have acted as though they could take it, amassing great fortunes while fearful of spending them lest they die penniless.
But it’s not just the fact that you can’t take it with you that produces a sense of futility.
You also can’t control it when you’re gone. Some people amass great fortunes, not for their own benefit, but for their children’s benefit. But there’s no guarantee that the child will show the same frugality that the parent showed. In fact, it is rare when a large fortune is not squandered by those who inherit it. More often than not it also ends up destroying relationships. What meaninglessness!
The Preacher has taken us on his Search for Satisfaction through the pursuit of knowledge, pleasure, wisdom, and work. Each effort he has judged to be futile. None of these areas, when pursued for their own sake, are able to provide meaning and satisfaction in life. So he’s ready with his conclusion:
The only hope for human happiness is in a relationship with God. (2:24‑26)
On first glance at verse 24 it almost appears that the Preacher has flipped and is telling us that since life is meaningless, the best thing you can do is to gorge yourself, get drunk, and tell yourself that your labor is worthwhile, even though you know it isn’t. But that is a serious misunderstanding of his point. Look at 24 & 25: “A man can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in his work. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment?”
You see, eating and drinking and laboring, while devoid of ultimate meaning in and of themselves, are infused with meaning and purpose and happiness and satisfaction when they are done in accord with God’s regulations and with His blessing. What spoils these activities is our greediness to get out of them more than they can give or our tendency to do them to excess.
God gives meaning to meaningless activities. If you want your food to taste better the best thing you can do is to eat it with Christian friends, thanking God for it. If you want a nice tall glass of lemonade or orange juice to taste better, pause to meditate on God’s goodness in giving us such an amazing variety of fruit and the taste buds to appreciate it. If you want to take the drudgery out of your assembly‑line job or your endless task of washing and ironing, pause to realize that there are thousands of invalids who would give anything to be able to do your job and yet God has been good enough to you to give you a job and the physical and mental ability to accomplish it.
Then there’s a final observation the Preacher makes that we must not ignore.
God’s payday is coming someday. Verse 26: “To the man who pleases him, God gives wisdom, knowledge and happiness, but to the sinner he gives the task of gathering and storing up wealth to hand it over to the one who pleases God.” The one who is right with God may go through trials and tribulations, just like the person who rejects God, but the pain is temporary. The last chapter reads: wisdom, knowledge, joy.
On the other hand, the one who refuses to make his peace with God may increase in wealth and power, but his prosperity is likewise temporary. Like the rich fool of Luke 12, God will someday say, “You fool! This very night your soul is required of you; and now who will own what you have prepared?” When God’s payday arrives, and it may be any time, will you be rewarded for faithfulness or relieved of all you’ve wasted your life on?
We’ve covered a lot of territory this morning, and we’ve covered it rapidly. So I thought it would be good for us to summarize and review by means of four principles for daily living which our passage leaves with us.
Principles to ponder:
If you want knowledge, go to college. If you want understanding, go to God. The pursuit of knowledge as an end in itself will always be a dead‑end street. To illustrate, all we need to do is to observe the fact that Ph.D.’s have no corner on peace of mind, marital bliss, common sense, or general human happiness. In fact, divorces and suicides and the incidence of psychiatric disorder increase as one’s level of education increases. However, when God enters the picture he offers a framework in which to apply knowledge and education becomes a very profitable endeavor.
There is a paradox to pleasure—the more you seek, the less you find. There are many illustrations of this principle. Every pleasurable experience has the potential of becoming a harmful one if pursued too far or at the wrong time or with the wrong person. A bigger dose is required each time to produce the same high. The only pleasures that produce lasting happiness are those done in moderation, with God’s approval, in God’s timing, and with gratitude to Him.
The “doctrine of preferential treatment” has very limited application. Perhaps you’ve never heard of this doctrine, but I’ll be surprised if you’ve never believed it. Briefly it means that God gives special treatment to his children. Of course there is a certain sense in which this is true. For example, the Psalmist says (in 37:25), “I have been young and now am old. Yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his descendants begging bread.” Philippians 4:19 adds, “But my God shall supply all your needs according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” So there is a sense in which God does give preferential treatment to His children. Certainly He does so in eternity.
But there are many areas in which God’s children cannot expect preferential treatment. Accidents happen to believers, just like unbelievers. A Christian’s lawn is just as susceptible to dandelions as his unbelieving neighbor’s. Cancer will strike a Christian as readily as a non‑Christian (though certainly some cancers that are caused by life-style choices may be avoided by a faithful believer).
This bothers Solomon, and at times it bothers us. Some just can’t cope with it, so they have devised a theology that says the only time we don’t get preferential treatment is when we don’t exercise enough faith. But the sooner we realize that all of us are in the same boat as regards to most of the mundane things of life, the better we will be prepared to handle trials and tragedies when they come. There is no room for anger at God or questioning of one’s faith—just a recognition of the Fall of man and the extent to which that Fall has affected our whole universe.
The vanity and futility of life is unbearable when God is left out of the picture. As we have stated before, there are enigmas, unanswered questions, and signs of meaninglessness in every person’s life. And if a person does not have a relationship with God, the burden of this meaninglessness becomes almost unbearable. The legacy includes mental and emotional breakdown, abuse of drugs and alcohol, the pursuit of cults and eastern religions, a search for answers in horoscopes and other occult practices, even suicide.
Conclusion: May I ask if you are searching for something to fill a vacuum in your life? Whether you recognize it or not, that vacuum is God‑shaped and it can be filled only by a personal relationship with Him. Furthermore, the only way to establish a personal relationship with Him is through His Son, Jesus Christ, who died for you and offers to come into your life and give you purpose and meaning where there is none now.
[i] Derek Kidner, A Time to Mourn and A Time to Dance, 34.
[ii] Charles Swindoll, newsletter of First Evangelical Free Church of Fullerton.