MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.— Ecclesiastes 2:17-23
THE CONFESSIONS OF A PLEASURE-SEEKER
I. That his life’s promise has failed. The pleasure-seeker begins life with high hopes. The intoxication of mirth exalts his imagination, and he lives, for a brief space, in the transports of joy. He looks forward to many years of merriment, free from every invasion of sorrow. But as time passes, and he learns the lessons of experience, and awakens to a sense of the solemn realities around him, life’s fair promise is discovered to be a delusion. He has lived for pleasure, and trusted in the hopes it inspired; but these have failed.
1. It promised that life would be bliss, but now he deplores the very fact of existence. (Ecclesiastes 2:17.) The pleasures of the world, by their agreeable variety and adaptation to our lower nature, promise to fill up every moment of life, and drive away all care and repining; but they soon clog the senses, the power of enjoyment is blunted, and life itself regarded with disgust.
2. It promised that life would still be unfolding new scenes of pleasure, but now it has led him to blank despair. (Ecclesiastes 2:20.) He had hoped much from his high capacity for pleasure, from his wealth, from his skill in those great public works which would promote his magnificence, and draw attention to his genius. But now his ingenuity is exhausted, his spirits spent, and all is flat and weary—the world has no more to offer. The night of despair has come, and the bright and gaudy colours of life have faded away into confusion.
II. That he is tormented by some ever-recurring thought. (Ecclesiastes 2:18; Ecclesiastes 2:21.) The Royal Preacher had dwelt upon the idea before, that his wealth and all the products of his labour and skill must be left to some unworthy successor. This is with him a standing grief. Here the same thought rises again. What he had gathered with care, and produced by great labour of contrivance, would be laid waste by some foolish man. Amidst all the pleasures of his life, thin terrible thought would come to the surface. Men of pleasure find that painful and anxious thoughts are ever arising to disturb their enjoyment. The reflection is forced upon them that time is fast passing away that their glory will soon descend into the grave, that all their earthly joy will fade in the last sickness and before the tomb, and that in the distant future even their very children will forget them in their own merry laugh and joy. Some deep thought is ever coming uppermost before which pleasure grows pale.
III. That he enjoys no true repose. (Ecclesiastes 2:23.) He has no rest during the progress of his work, nor even when his task is done. The night, which invites repose, is invaded by care and trouble. His wealth can procure luxury; but the heart is unquiet, and sleep is not to be had at any price. This shows us—
1. That there is a majesty in our nature which disdains to be satisfied with mere worldly pleasure.
2. That a sense of the solemn facts of our nature and destiny cannot be banished from the mind by mirth.
3. That the God of our soul can alone satisfy it.
SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS ON THE VERSES
Ecclesiastes 2:17. If God has disappeared from the efforts of men, a disgust of life appears sooner or later [Gerlach].
There is a contempt of the world which is not genuine religion. Pleasure may heartlessly spurn away those with whom she has played; they may become weary of the world, and yet be without the consolations of God. The disgust of life may lead to remorse instead of true repentance, and a stoical resignation to inflexible fate may closely imitate the calm anticipation of the joys of heaven.
The disorder of the mind darkens the whole scene of life. The brightest glory of the world may be clouded by the gloom of our own hearts.
To hate life is to destroy the foundations of all happiness, for without existence no happiness could be possible. The gift of salvation can turn existence into a blessing. Our creation is a pledge of guardianship. It is to us a sure sign and token that “God will not forsake the work of His own hands.”
The original expresseth itself more fully, “I hated lives,” not only this kind of life, or that kind of life; nor only this time of life, or that time of life; not only the life of this man, or of that man; but the lives of all men, of all kinds, of all times. I hated mine own life, “because the work that is done under the sun is grievous unto me;” the life of others, because “All is vanity and vexation of spirit” [Jermin].
The things of this life have true bitterness, false contentment, certain grief, uncertain pleasure, hard labour, fearful rest, matter full of misery, hope empty of happiness [Augustine].
Ecclesiastes 2:18. It is only the result of our labours that we pass on to posterity. The toil is ours, and theirs the fruit. The effects of our labour and skill remain after we are gone. They endure for others, but not for us.
We are only the conveyers of the things of this life to others, not the possessors of them.
As a thief comes in one night, and bears away the fruits of many toilsome days, so a man may leave his possessions to some one unworthy and unprofitable.
Man is but a tenant under the great Lord of all. He has no lease of life; but is liable to be turned out at a moment’s notice. He occupies his little holding for a brief space, and then departs, leaving all he has gathered and wrought to those who come after.
We cannot be truly said to possess that which can be severed from us, leaving us poor indeed. God is the only portion of the soul for ever.
Ecclesiastes 2:19. He who has gathered spiritual treasure is rich in the wealth of immortality, and will be for ever master of all his possessions. In the future kingdom only the wise shall rule.
The works of faithful souls shall follow them beyond the world. They shall not be left behind to run the chance of being wasted or spoiled by others.
Man has but a brief sovereignty over his earthly labours. A fool, from motives of mischief, or from some vain notion of improvement, may spoil the work of the wisest man.
It is one of the vanities of wealth that a man knows not to what use it will be put by his successor.
Ecclesiastes 2:20. Here we have set down the two causes of despair—vanity and vexation. Vanity is a great cause of despair, for when men have laboured hard, and find no success, that makes them despair of any success [Jermin].
Even the utmost depths of despair cannot overwhelm the cry of the soul.
The darkest hour of the night is before the dawn. The darkest hour of the soul may be the prelude to a cheerful and prosperous day.
Some will not seek the highest resource until all that is earthly has failed. They must be driven to feed upon the husks of despair before they will think upon the bread which is in their Father’s house.
Ecclesiastes 2:21. An excess of carefulness for posterity may prove a hindrance in the duty that lies before us.
We enter into the labours of others, build upon their foundation, and come into the easy possession of what they have won by careful thought and labour. If we are true spiritual workers, we have a wealthy heritage. Let us strive to use it well.
Even the best men must be content to accept the failure of much of the results of their works and wisdom. In every mental and moral effort for the good of others, there is some waste of power. The real effective force of our life is small—both in regard to the present generation, and in regard to posterity.
The Lord in His wise Providence sees it fit that great things of the world should fall for a portion to men who have neither wit nor experience for purchasing or improving them, that all may be convinced that these things are not infallible signs of His love; and that men who get them may be allured to their duty by them, or the more severely punished when he reckons with them [Nisbet].
Ecclesiastes 2:22. The pleasures of the world depart one by one, and leave men the sad heritage of weariness and vexation.
There is nothing here that is an adequate recompense for our anxiety of thought, and wasting labour. If this life be all, even our supremacy in the empire of mind is but a poor consolation, seeing our stay is so short and death strikes the sceptre from our hand.
It is well to pause in the midst of our labours, and ask ourselves to what profit do they tend? This is the attitude in which the soul hears the voice of God, bidding her return to enduring pleasures and works of lasting profit.
For when it is asked what hath a man of all his labour, perhaps some one may answer—Behold I fill up my sacks, my walls do hardly hold that which I get, my gains do flow out every way, and money runs like a stream into my purse. Yet this is no answer; for that thy sack may be filled, thy soul fevereth with cares; that thy gold may increase, thine honesty is diminished; that thou mayest be richly clothed without, thou art spoiled and left naked within [Augustine].
Ecclesiastes 2:23. The joys of the children of this world are but the illusions of a dream. There is a deep sorrow running through life which men strive in vain to hide.
Much of the work of the world is pursued beyond what is simply necessary for the sustenance and ornament of life. Men try to avoid being left alone with themselves. They contrive to draw off the attention from their own misery. Yet the grief of life remains, and, like a fatal distemper, cleaves to the soul.
Sleep is the gift of God, who secures it to the contented mind and clear conscience.
God has access to our spirit at all times, and when at night we rest from labours and strive to shut out care, He can trouble us with unknown terrors.
There is only one pillow on which the heart can rest—the bosom of the Infinite Father.
The magnetic needle has one position of rest—when it trembles to the pole. In all other positions it is under constraint, and tends to swing itself to rest. So the soul can have no true repose until the affections rest in God.