Ecclesiastes, Chapter 2.

Why Wealth, Wisdom, and Work Aren’t Enough.

The second chapter of Ecclesiastes documents one of the most profound human experiments ever recorded. King Solomon, a man of unparalleled wisdom, wealth, and power, embarks on a personal quest to find lasting meaning and satisfaction “under the sun.” He systematically tests the greatest pursuits of human life—pleasure, grand accomplishments, and even wisdom itself—to see if they hold the key to a genuinely good life. His findings are both startling and deeply relevant, revealing that the things we often chase with all our might are ultimately empty when pursued apart from their divine source.

The Grand Experiment with Extravagant Pleasure.

Pursuing Joy Through Indulgence

Solomon begins his test with an all-out pursuit of pleasure. In his heart, he resolves to experience every form of enjoyment available. He starts with laughter and mirth, only to quickly dismiss them as “mad” and pointless in providing any substantial benefit. He then turns to wine, not as a drunkard, but in a controlled experiment to see if it could cheer his body while his mind remained guided by wisdom. He sought to “lay hold on folly” to understand its appeal and its ultimate value during the brief days of human life. This wasn’t a reckless binge but a calculated investigation into the limits of sensual satisfaction. The conclusion was immediate and stark: raw pleasure and amusement offered no lasting substance.

Building an Earthly Paradise

Moving beyond simple indulgence, Solomon leverages his immense resources to create a world of unparalleled magnificence. He undertakes massive architectural and agricultural projects, building great houses for himself and planting sprawling vineyards. He designs and cultivates elaborate gardens and parks—what the original text calls “paradises”—filled with every kind of fruit tree. To sustain this lush creation, he constructs complex irrigation systems, including pools of water to nourish the flourishing groves.

His acquisitions extended to people and possessions. He bought male and female slaves and had servants born into his household, a sign of established wealth and stability. His herds and flocks surpassed those of any ruler in Jerusalem before him. He amassed a treasury filled with silver, gold, and the “peculiar treasure of kings and provinces”—tribute and wealth from subject territories. To complete this world of luxury, he hired professional male and female singers and acquired “the delight of the sons of man”—a vast harem of wives and concubines. By every worldly metric, he had achieved everything a person could possibly desire.

The Sobering Verdict on Pleasure

After achieving this pinnacle of success, Solomon pauses to evaluate his accomplishments. He had denied himself nothing. Whatever his eyes desired, he took. He found a measure of temporary pleasure in the process—a fleeting joy that he identified as the only “reward” for all his toil. But when he stepped back and considered all that his hands had done and the exhaustive effort he had expended, his conclusion was devastating. Everything was “vanity and a striving after wind.” Despite possessing everything the world could offer, he found there was nothing of lasting gain to be found under the sun. The satisfaction was in the doing, but once done, the accomplishment was hollow.

The Surprising Limits of Human Wisdom.

Is Wisdom Really Better Than Folly?

Having found pleasure wanting, Solomon turns his attention back to a comparison of wisdom, madness, and folly. His initial observation confirms what seems obvious: wisdom is superior to folly just as light is superior to darkness. The wise person, he notes, “has his eyes in his head,” navigating life with foresight and understanding. The fool, by contrast, “walks in darkness,” stumbling through life with blind infatuation and making fatal errors. In the practical matters of life, from managing affairs to building projects, worldly wisdom clearly has the advantage. It provides skill, good sense, and the ability to operate within safe and respectable bounds.

The Great Equalizer: Death

Yet, this advantage is ultimately superficial. Solomon perceives a sobering, universal truth that levels the playing field entirely: “the same event happens to all of them.” Both the wise person and the fool die. This single, inescapable reality undoes the earthly superiority of wisdom. If the final outcome is the same, what ultimate profit is there in being so wise? He asks himself why he had pursued wisdom with such effort if his fate was identical to that of the fool who pursued nothing. This realization leads him to declare that the pursuit of worldly wisdom, as an end in itself, is also vanity. No matter how wisely one lives, there is no “enduring remembrance.” In the days to come, both the wise and the fool are forgotten.

A Descent into Despair

This profound insight sends Solomon into a state of despair. “So, I hated life,” he confesses, “because what is done under the sun was grievous to me.” If every human endeavour—whether foolish pleasure or wise accomplishment—leads to the same end of death and obscurity, then life itself feels like a meaningless and burdensome exercise. The great pursuits that should have brought fulfilment instead revealed a deep-seated futility, proving to be nothing more than another form of “striving after wind.”

The Heavy Frustration of Fruitless Toil.

The Agony of the Successor

Solomon then narrows his focus to the nature of his work. He had toiled with immense wisdom, knowledge, and skill to build his kingdom and amass his wealth. But now, even this brought him anguish. “I hated all my toil,” he says, because he must leave the fruit of his labour to the man who comes after him. And the crushing uncertainty is whether his successor will be wise or a fool. This was not a theoretical problem for Solomon; it was a deeply personal anxiety about his own son, Rehoboam, who would later prove to be a fool and fracture the kingdom. The thought that a foolish heir could gain mastery over all he had so wisely and painstakingly built rendered his life’s work a bitter vanity.

When Work Becomes a Constant Burden

This perspective transforms the very nature of work from a source of purpose into a source of unending pain. The Preacher gives his heart over to despair. What does a person truly get from all the toil and anxious striving? His days are filled with sorrow, and his work is a “vexation.” The anxiety is so pervasive that even at night, his heart finds no rest. Labor, when viewed only through an earthly lens, becomes a great evil—a consuming effort whose rewards are temporary and whose legacy is, at best, uncertain.

The True Source of Simple Enjoyment.

A Crucial Shift in Perspective

Just as the chapter reaches its bleakest point, Solomon introduces a radical shift in perspective. After concluding that human effort alone cannot secure meaning, he points toward another possibility. He states, “There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil.” At first glance, this might sound like a retreat into simple hedonism, but the line that follows changes everything: “This also, I saw, is from the hand of God.”

Joy as a Gift from God’s Hand

Here lies the chapter’s central lesson. The ability to find genuine, simple enjoyment in the basic provisions of life—food, drink, and satisfying work—is not something we can seize for ourselves through wealth or wisdom. It is a divine gift. Solomon, who had more resources than anyone to create his own happiness, failed. He learned that apart from God, no one can truly eat, drink, or have enjoyment. True satisfaction is not achieved through frantic striving but received with gratitude from God. God mercifully spares most people the sad experiment Solomon conducted, allowing us to learn from his experience without paying the dear price he paid.

The Divine Economy of Blessing

Solomon concludes with a profound statement on God’s divine economy. To the person who pleases Him, God gives wisdom, knowledge, and joy. In contrast, the sinner is given the task of gathering and collecting wealth, only to ultimately see it given “to one who pleases God.” While this principle was especially visible in the immediate rewards and consequences of ancient Israel, it remains a spiritual reality. The backsliding Solomon found no happiness in the riches he sought apart from God. Ultimately, true, and lasting joy is the portion of the godly, for it flows directly from the hand of the Giver. Any other pursuit is, and always will be, vanity and a striving after wind.

In this chapter, Solomon challenges us to examine the foundation of our own lives. Are we striving to build our own satisfaction through pleasure, accomplishments, or knowledge? Or are we learning to gratefully receive the simple, daily joys of life as a gift from the hand of God?