Produced by Al Haines
OLD GROANS
AND
NEW SONGS
BEING
Meditations on the Book of Ecclesiastes
by
F. C. JENNINGS,
NEW YORK.
Glasgow:
PICKERING & INGLIS, PRINTERS & PUBLISHERS,
The Publishing Office, 73 Bothwell Street.
LONDON:
S. BAGSTER & SONS, LTD., 15 Paternoster Row, E.C
1920
PREFACE.
The chief object of a word of preface to the following notes is that
the reader may not expect from them more, or other, than is intended.
They are the result of meditations--not so much of a critical as a
devotional character--on the book, in the regular course of private
morning readings of the Scriptures--meditations which were jotted down
at the time, and the refreshment and blessing derived from which, I
desired to share with my fellow-believers. Some salient point of each
chapter has been taken and used as illustrative of what is conceived as
the purpose of the book. As month by month passed, however, the
subject opened up to such a degree that at the end, one felt as if
there were a distinct need entirely to re-write the earlier chapters.
It is, however, sent forth in the same shape as originally written; the
reader then may accompany the writer, and share with him the delight at
the ever-new beauties in the landscape that each turn of the road, as
it were, unexpectedly laid out before him.
There is one point, however, that it may be well to look at here a
little more closely and carefully than has been done in the body of the
book, both on account of its importance and of the strong attack that
the ecclesiastical infidelity of the day has made upon it: I refer to
its authorship.
To commence with the strongest position of the attack on the Solomon
authorship--necessarily the strongest, for it is directly in the field
of verbal criticism--it is argued that because a large number of words
are found in this book, found elsewhere alone in the post-exilian
writers, (as Daniel or Nehemiah,) therefore the author of the book must
surely be post-exilian too. It would be unedifying, and is happily
unnecessary, to review this in detail--with a literature so very
limited as are the Hebrew writings cotemporary with Solomon: these few,
dealing with other subjects, other ideas, necessitating therefore
another character of words, it takes no scholar to see that any
argument derived from this must necessarily be taken with the greatest
caution. Nay, like all arguments of infidelity, it is a sword easily
turned against the user. As surely as the valleys lie hid in shadow
long after the mountain-tops are shining in the morning sun, so surely
must we expect evidences of so elevated a personality as the wise king
of Israel, to show a fuller acquaintance with the language of his
neighbors; and employ, when they best suited him, words from such
vocabularies--words which would not come into general use for many a
long day; indeed until sorrow, captivity, and shame, had done the same
work for the mass, under the chastening Hand of God, as abundant
natural gifts had done for our wise and glorious author.
Thus the argument of Zoeckler--"the numerous Aramaisms (words of Syriac
origin) in the book are among the surest signs of its post-exile
origin"--is really turned against himself. Were such Aramaisms
altogether lacking, we might well question whether the writer were
indeed that widely-read, eminently literary, gloriously intellectual
individual of whom it is said, "his wisdom excelled the children of the
East country and all the wisdom of Egypt, for he was wiser than all
men." Surely, that Solomon shows he was acquainted with words other
than his own Hebrew, and made use of such words when they best suited
his purpose, is only what common-sense would naturally look for. There
is no proof whatever that the _words themselves_ were of late date.
Christian scholars have examined them one by one as carefully, and
certainly at least as conscientiously, as their opponents; and show us,
in result, that the words, although not familiar in the Hebrew
vernacular, were in widely-current use either in the neighboring
Persian or in that family of languages--Syriac and Chaldaic--of which
Hebrew was but a member.
The verdict of impartiality must certainly be "not proven," if indeed
it be not stronger than that, to the attempt to deny to Solomon the
authorship of Ecclesiastes based on the _words_ used.
The next method of argument is one in which we shall feel ourselves
more at home, inasmuch as it is not so much a question of scholarship,
but ordinary intelligent discernment. Time and space forbid that I
attempt here a full or detailed exhibit of the sentences, thoughts,
ideas in the book itself which are taken as being quite impossible to
King Solomon. I will, however, attempt to give a representative few
that may stand for all. In the body of the book I have touched, in
passing, on the argument deduced from the words in the first chapter,
"_I was king;_" so need only to ask my readers' attention to it there.
That "he says of himself that he was wiser and richer than all before
him in Jerusalem points, under enlightened exposition, clearly to an
author different to the historical Solomon." Indeed! If my readers
can appreciate the force of such an argument, they do more than can I.
That the writer should seek that his words should have the full force,
his experiences have the full weight that could only attach to one in
every way gifted to test all things to their uttermost, is taken as
clear proof, "under unbiased exposition," that the only one who was
_exactly thus gifted was not the author_! The claim to freedom from
bias is in almost ludicrous harmony with such reasoning.
Again, "that also which is said--chap. vii. 10--of the depravity of the
times accords little with the age of Solomon, the most brilliant and
prosperous of Israelitish history." Another lovely example of
rationalistic "freedom from bias"! For what is this that is said of
the "depravity of the times" so inconsistent with the glory of
Solomon's reign in chap. vii. 10? "Say not thou, What is the cause
that the former days were better than these? For thou dost not inquire
wisely concerning this." And this is proof of the "depravity of the
times"!--not proof, mark, of just that very thing that is the heart and
soul of the book: the weary, unsatisfied, empty heart of poor man
looking backward or forward for the satisfaction that the present
always fails to give "under the sun," and which he, who was wiser than
all who came before him, Solomon, warns his readers _against_! Oh,
poor blind rationalism! missing all the beauties of God's Word in its
own exceeding cleverness, or--folly! How would the present application
of such reasoning sound! The Victorian era is certainly one of the
most "brilliant and prosperous of" English "history"; hence no one can
ever speak now of "the good old times." Such language is simply
impossible; we never hear it! So if some astute reasoner of the future
comes across such allusion in any writings, it will be clear proof that
the author was _post-Victorian_! Far more so if, as here, such writer
_rebukes_ this tendency!
"Altogether unkingly sound the complaints in chap. iii. 17 ('I said in
my heart God shall judge the righteous and the wicked; for there is a
time there for every purpose and for every work'); iv.; x. 5-7 (let my
reader refer for himself to these), concerning unjust judges," etc.
"These are all lamentations and complaints natural enough in a
suffering and oppressed subject; but not in a monarch called and
authorized to abolish evil." It is most difficult to deal seriously
with what, if the writer were not so very learned, we should call
nonsense unworthy of a child. Look at the verse to which he refers,
and which I have quoted in full; and extract from it, if your "biased"
judgment will permit, an "unkingly complaint" in any word of it! And
it is at such formidable arguments as this that some of us have been
trembling, fearing lest the very foundations must give way under the
attack! A little familiarity is all that is needed to beget a
wholesome contempt.
Here is one more interesting illustration of the "unbiased,"
"scientific" reasoning of rationalism. The object is, you know, to
"determine exactly the epoch and writer of the book;" and this is how
it must be done. "According to chaps, v. 1, and ix. 2, the temple
worship was assiduously practised, but without a living piety of heart,
and in a hypocritical and self-justifying manner; the complaints in
this regard remind us vividly of similar ones of the prophet
Malachi--chap. i. 6, etc." What then is the basis for all this
verbiage about the temple worship? Here it is: "Keep thy foot when
thou goest to the house of God, and be more ready to hear than to give
the sacrifice of fools: for they consider not that they do evil." This
sentence shows that it is impossible that Solomon wrote the book: there
were no "fools" in _his_ time, who were more ready to give a careless
sacrifice than to hearken: all fools only come into existence _after
the exile_, in the days of Malachi! And this is "higher criticism"!
Enough as to this line. We will now ask our learned friends, since
Solomon has been so conclusively proved not to have written it, Who
did? And when was it written? Ah, now we may listen to a very medley
of answers!--for opinions here are almost as numerous as the critics
themselves. United in the one assurance that Solomon could not have
written it, they are united in nothing else. One is assured it was
Hezekiah, another is confident it was Zerubbabel, a third is convinced
it was Jesus the son of Joiada--and so on. "All opinions," as Dr.
Lewis says, "are held with equal confidence, and yet in every way are
opposed to each other. Once set it loose from the Solomon time, and
there is no other place where it can be securely anchored."
This brings us then to the positive assertion that from the evident
purpose of the book, the _divine_ purpose, no other than Solomon could
be its author. He must be of a nation taken out of the darkness and
abominations of heathendom;--there was only one such nation,--he must
then be an _Israelite_. He must live at an epoch when that nation is
at the summit of its prosperity;--it never regained that epoch,--he
must then have lived _when_ Solomon lived. He must, in his own person,
by his riches, honor, wisdom, learning, freedom from external political
fears, perfect capacity to drink of whatever cup this world can put
into his hand to the full--represent the very top-stone of that
glorious time; and not one amongst all the sons of men answers to all
this but _Solomon the son of David, king in Jerusalem_.
To Him who is "greater than Solomon"--to Him who is "above the sun"--to
Him whom it is the divine purpose of the book to highly exalt above
all--would I commit this feeblest effort to show that purpose, and, as
His condescending grace permits, further it. F. C. J.
OLD GROANS AND NEW SONGS;
OR,
_MEDITATIONS ON ECCLESIASTES._
Perhaps there is no book within the whole canon of Scripture so
perplexing and anomalous, at first sight, as that entitled
"Ecclesiastes." Its terrible hopelessness, its bold expression of
those difficulties with which man is surrounded on every side, the
apparent fruitlessness of its quest after good, the unsatisfactory
character, from a Christian standpoint, of its conclusion: all these
points have made it, at one and the same time, an enigma to the
superficial student of the Word, and the arsenal whence a far more
superficial infidelity has sought to draw weapons for its warfare
against clear revelation. And yet here it is, embedded in the very
heart of those Scriptures which we are told were "given by inspiration
of God, and which are profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for
correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may
be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works." Then with this
precious assurance of its "profitableness" deeply fixed in our hearts
by a living faith, and in absolute dependence on that blessed One who
is the one perfect Teacher, let us consider the book.
First, then, let us seek to get all the light we can from all the
exterior marks it bears before seeking to interpret its contents. For
our primary care with regard to this, as indeed with regard to every
book in the Bible, must be to discover, if possible, what is the object
of the book,--from what standpoint does the writer approach his subject.
And first we find it in that group of books through which the voice of
man is prominent--Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Canticles. In these is heard
the music of man's soul; often--nay, mostly--giving sorrowful and
striking evidence of discord, in wail and groan, in tear and sigh; and
yet again, in response evidently to the touch of some Master hand, that
knows it well,--a tender, gracious, compassionate touch,--rising into a
song of sweetest harmony that speaks eloquently of its possibilities,
and bears along on its chords the promise and hope of a complete
restoration. But we shall search our book in vain for any such
expression of joy. No song brightens its pages; no praise is heard
amid its exercises. And yet perfectly assured we may be that, listened
to aright, it shall speak forth the praise of God's beloved Son; looked
at in a right light, it shall set off His beauty. If "He turns the
wrath of man to praise Him," surely we may expect no less from man's
sorrows and ignorance. This, then, we may take it, is the object of
the book, to show forth by its dark background the glory of the Lord,
to bring into glorious relief against the black cloud of man's need and
ignorance the bright light of a perfect, holy, revelation; to let man
tell out, in the person of his greatest and wisest, when he, too, is at
the summit of his greatness, with the full advantage of his matured
wisdom, the solemn questions of his inmost being; and show that
greatness to be of no avail in solving them,--that wisdom foiled in the
search for their answers.
This, then, we will conclude, is the purpose of the book and the
standpoint from which the writer speaks, and we shall find its contents
confirm this in every particular.
It has been well said that as regards each book in holy writ the "key
hangs by the door,"--that is, that the first few sentences will give
the gist of the whole. And, indeed, pre-eminently is such the case
here. The first verse gives us who the writer is; the second, the
beginning and ending of his search. And therein lies the key of the
whole; for the writer is the son of David, the man exalted by Jehovah
to highest earthly glory. Through rejection and flight, through battle
and conflict, had the Lord brought David to this excellence of glory
and power. All this his "son" entered into in its perfection and at
once. For it is that one of his sons who speaks who is _king_, and in
_Jerusalem_, the city of God's choice, the beautiful for situation, the
joy of the whole earth. Such is the story of verse 1. Nothing could
possibly go beyond the glory that is compassed by these few words. For
consider them, and you will see that they ascribe "_wisdom_, and
_honor_, and _riches_, and _power_" to him of whom they are spoken; but
it is human wisdom and earthly power, all "under the sun." And now
listen to the "song" that should surely accompany this ascription; note
the joy of a heart fully and completely satisfied now that the pinnacle
of human greatness is attained. Here it is: "Vanity of vanities,"
saith the Preacher, "vanity of vanities; all is vanity!" The word
_hahvehl_ is always translated, as here, "vanity." It is sometimes
applied to "idols," as Deut. xxxii. 21, and would give the idea of
emptiness--nothingness. What a striking contrast! Man has here all
that Nature can possibly give; and his poor heart, far from singing, is
_empty_ still, and utters its sad bitter groan of disappointment. Now
turn and contemplate that other scene, where the true Son of David,
only now a "_Lamb as it had been slain_," is the center of every
circle, the object of every heart. Tears are dried at the mention of
His name, and song after song bursts forth, till the whole universe of
bliss pours forth its joy, relieves its surcharged heart in praise.
"Vanity of vanities," saith the Preacher. That is the _old_ groan.
"Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof, for
Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed to God by Thy blood, out of every
kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation, and hast made them kings
and priests, and they shall reign over the earth." That is the _new_
song. Oh, blessed contrast! Does it not make Him who Himself has
replaced the groan by the song precious? Has it, then, no value?
And this is just the purpose of the whole book, to furnish such
striking contrasts whereby the "new" is set off in its glories against
the dark background of the "old,"--rest against labor, hope against
despair, song against groan; and so the third verse puts this very
explicitly,--"What profit hath a man of all his labor which he taketh
under the sun?"
The wisest and the greatest of men is seeking for an answer to this
question. And this verse is too important in its bearing on the whole
book to permit our passing it without looking at that significant word
"profit" a little closer. And here one feels the advantage of those
helps that a gracious God has put into our hands in these days of
special attack upon His revelation, whereby even the unlearned may, by
a little diligence, arrive at the exact shade of the meaning of a word.
The word "profit," then, is, in the Hebrew, _yithrohn_, and is found in
this exact form only in this book, where it is translated "profit," as
here, or "excellency," as in chap. ii. 13. The Septuagint translates
it into a Greek one, meaning "advantage," or perhaps more literally,
"that which remains over and above." In Eph. iii. 20 it is rendered
"exceeding abundantly above." Hence we gather that our word intends to
convey to us the question, "After life is over, after man has given his
labor, his time, his powers, and his talents, what has he received in
exchange that shall satisfy him for all that he has lost? Do the
pleasures obtained during life fully compensate for what is spent in
obtaining them? Do they satisfy? and do they remain to him as "profit"
over and above that expenditure? In a word, what "under the sun" can
satisfy the longing, thirsting, hungering heart of man, so that he can
say, "My heart is filled to overflowing, its restless longings are
stilled, I have found a food that satisfies its hunger, a water that
quenches its thirst"? A question all-important, surely, and it will be
well worth listening to the experience of this seeker, who is fitted
far above his fellows for finding this satisfactory good, if it can be
found "under the sun."
First, then, the Preacher, like a good workman, takes account of what
material he has to work with. "Have I," he says, "any thing that
others have not had, or can I hope to find any thing that has not been
before?" At once he is struck with that "law of circuit" that is
stamped on every thing: generation follows generation; but no new
earth, _that_ remains ever the same; the sun wheels ceaselessly in its
one course; the winds circle from point to point, but whirl about to
their starting-place; the waters, too, follow the same law, and keep up
one unbroken circuit. Where can rest be found in such a scene? Whilst
there is unceasing change, nothing is _new_; it is but a repetition of
what has been before, and which again soon passes, leaving the heart
empty and hungry still. Again, then, let us use this dark background
to throw forward another scene. See, even now, "above the sun" Him who
is the Head and perfect Exponent of the creation called the _new_. Is
there any law of constant unsatisfying circuit in Him? Nay, indeed,
every sight we get of Him is _new_; each revelation of Himself
perfectly satisfies, and yet awakens appetite for further views.
"No pause, no change those pleasures
Shall ever seek to know;
The draught that lulls our thirsting
But wakes that thirst anew."
Or, again, look at that blessed "law of circuit" spoken of in another
way by one who has indeed been enlightened by a light "above the sun"
in every sense of the word, in 2 Cor. ix. It is not the circling of
winds or waters, but of "grace" direct from the blessed God Himself.
Mark the perfection stamped upon it both by its being a complete
circle--never ending, but returning again to its Source,--and by the
numerical stamp of perfection upon it in its seven distinct parts (or
movements) as shown by the sevenfold recurrence of the word "all," or
"every," both coming from the same Greek word.
1. "God is able to make _all_ grace abound unto you." There is an
inexhaustible _source_. We may come and come and come again, and never
find _that_ fountain lowered by all our drafts upon it. Sooner, far
sooner, should the ocean be emptied by a teacup than infinite "power"
and "love" be impoverished by all that His saints could draw from Him.
_All_ grace.
2. "That ye _always_." There is no moment when this circle of
blessing need stop flowing. It is ever available. No moment--by day
or night, in the quiet of the closet or in the activities of the day's
duties, when in communion with friends or in the company of foes,--when
that grace is not available. At _all_ times.
3. "Having _all_ sufficiency"--perfect competence to meet just the
present emergency. A sufficiency, let us mark, absolutely independent
of Nature's resources,--a sufficiency beautifully illustrated by
"unlearned and ignorant" Peter and John in the presence of the learned
Sanhedrim. Let us rejoice and praise God as we trace these three
glorious links in this endless chain of blessing. _All_ sufficiency.
4. "In _all_ things" (or "in every way"). It is no matter from what
side the demand may come, this precious grace is there to meet it. Is
it to deal with another troubled anxious soul, where human wisdom
avails nothing? Divine wisdom and tact shall be supplied. Courage if
danger presents itself, or "all long-suffering with joyfulness" if
afflictions tear the heart. In _all_ things.
5. "May abound to _every_ good work." Now filled to the brim, and
still connected with an inexhaustible supply, the vessel _must_
overflow, and that on every side. No effort, no toil, no weariness, no
drawing by mechanical means from a deep well; but the grace-filled
heart, abiding (and that is the only condition) in complete dependence
upon its God, naturally overflows on every side--to _all_ good work.
6. "Being enriched in _every thing_" (we omit the parenthesis,
although full of its own divine beauty), (or, "in every way"). This is
in some sort a repetition of No. 5, but goes as far beyond it as the
word "enriched" is fuller than the word "sufficient." The latter fills
the vessel, as we have said, up to the brim; the former adds another
drop, and over it flows. In view of these "exceeding great and
precious promises," we may say,--
"Oh wherefore should we do ourselves this wrong,
Or others, that we are not always strong?"
since we may be enriched in _all_ things.
7. "To _all_ bountifulness." This stream of grace is never to
stagnate, or it will lose all its character of blessing, as the manna
hoarded for a second day "bred worms, and stank." Thus every single
Christian becomes a living channel of blessing to all around, and the
circle is now completed, by once more returning to the point whence it
started, "Which causeth through us thanksgiving to God," and closes
with no weary wail of "All things are full of labor," but joyful songs
resound on every side, and at every motion of this circle of blessing
ascends "thanksgiving to God." For just exactly the same full measure
is seen in the thanksgiving ascending at the end as in the grace
descending in the beginning. There it "abounded," filling the vessel
full till it overflowed in the same measure, "abounding" in blessings
to others who needed, and these forthwith pass on the stream in
"abounding" thanksgiving to God. The apostle himself, as if he could
not suffer himself to be excluded from the circle of blessing, adds his
own note at the close with "Thanks be unto God for His unspeakable
gift." And shall we not, too, dear brother or sister now reading these
lines, let our feeble voice be heard in this sweet harmony of praise?
Has not this contrast between the new song and the old groan, again we
may ask, great value?
Having, then, seen in these first few verses the purpose of the book
and the standpoint of the writer, we may accompany him in the details
of his search. First he repeats, what is of the greatest importance
for us to remember (v. 12), "I, the Preacher, was king over Israel in
Jerusalem." He would not have us forget that, should he fail in his
search for perfect satisfaction, it will not be because he is not fully
qualified both by his abilities and his position to succeed. But
Infidelity, and its kinsman Rationalism, raise a joyful shout over this
verse; for to disconnect the books of the Bible from the writers whose
name they bear is a long step toward overthrowing the authority of
those books altogether. If the believer's long-settled confidence can
be proved vain in one point, and that so important a point, there is
good "hope" of eventually overthrowing it altogether. So, with
extravagant protestations of loyalty to the Scriptures, they, Joablike,
"kiss" and "stab" simultaneously, wonderfully manifesting in word and
work that dual form of the evil one, who, our Lord tells us, was both
"liar and murderer from the beginning." And many thousand professing
Christians are like Amasa of old, their ear is well pleased with the
fair sound of "Art thou in health, my brother?" and they, too, take "no
heed to the sword" in the inquirer's hand. Judas, too, in his day,
illustrates strongly that same diabolical compound of "deceit and
violence," only the enemy finds no unwary Amasa in Jesus the Lord.
"Betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss" tears the vail from him at
once; and in the same way the feeblest believer who abides in Him, is
led of that same spirit; and "good words and fair speeches" do not
deceive, nor can betrayal be hidden behind the warmest protestations of
affection.
But to return: "How could," cries this sapient infidelity, which today
has given itself the modest name of "Higher Criticism,"--"how could
Solomon say, 'I _was_ king,' when he never ceased to be that?" Ah! one
fears if that same Lord were to speak once more as of old, He would
again say, "O fools and blind!" For is it not meet that the writer who
is about to give recital of his experiences should first tell us what
his position _was_ at the very time of those experiences? That at the
very time of all these exercises, disappointments, and groanings, he
_was_ still the highest monarch on earth, king over an undivided
Israel, in Jerusalem, with all the resources and glories that accompany
this high station, pre-eminently fitting _him_ to speak with authority,
and compelling _us_ to listen with the profoundest respect and
attention.
Yes, this glorious monarch "gives his heart"--that is, applies himself
with singleness of purpose "to seek and search out by wisdom concerning
all things that are done under heaven." No path that gives the
slightest promise of leading to happiness shall be untrodden; no
pleasure shall be denied, no toil be shirked that shall give any hope
of satisfaction or rest. "This sore travail hath God given to the sons
of men to be exercised therewith." That is, the heart of man hungers
and thirsts, and he _must_ search till he does find something to
satisfy; and if, alas! he fail to find it in "time," if he only drinks
here of waters whereof he "that drinks shall thirst again," eternity
shall find him thirsting still, and crying for one drop of water to
cool his tongue. But then with what bitter despair Ecclesiastes
records all these searchings! "I have seen all the works that are done
under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit," or
rather, "pursuit of the wind." Exactly seven times he uses this term,
"pursuit of the wind," expressing perfect, complete, despairing failure
in his quest. He finds things all wrong, but he has no power of
righting them; "that which is crooked cannot be made straight, and that
which is wanting cannot be numbered." But perhaps we may get the
secret of his failure in his next words. He takes a companion or
counselor in his search. Again exactly seven times he takes counsel
with this companion, "_his own heart_,"--"I communed with my own
heart." That is the level of the book; the writer's resources are all
within himself; no light from without save that which nature gives; no
taking hold on another; no hand clasped by another. He and his heart
are alone. Ah! that is dangerous as well as dreary work to take
counsel with one's own heart. "Fool" and "lawless one" come to their
foolish and wicked conclusions there (Ps. xiv. 1); and what else than
"folly" could be expected in hearkening to that which is "deceitful
above all things"--what else than lawlessness in taking counsel with
that which is "desperately wicked"?
Take not, then, for thy counselor "thine own heart," when divine love
has placed infinite wisdom and knowledge at the disposal of lowly faith
in the Lord Jesus Christ, "who of God is made unto us wisdom," and "in
whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge."
But does our Preacher find the rest he desires in the path of his own
wisdom? Not at all. "For in much wisdom is much grief, and he that
increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." "Grief and sorrow" ever
growing, ever increasing, the further he treads that attractive and
comparatively elevated path of human wisdom. Nor has Solomon been a
lonely traveler along that road. Thousands of the more refined of
Adam's sons have chosen it; but none have gone beyond "the king," and
none have discovered anything in it, but added "grief and
sorrow"--sorrowful groan! But the youngest of God's family has his
feet, too, on a path of "knowledge," and he may press along that path
without the slightest fear of "grief or sorrow" resulting from added
knowledge. Nay, a new song shall be in his mouth, "_Grace_ and _peace_
shall be multiplied _through the knowledge of God and Jesus our Lord_."
(2 Pet. i. 2). Blessed contrast! "Sorrow and grief" multiplied
through growth in human wisdom: "Grace and peace" multiplied through
growth in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord!
My beloved reader, I pray you meditate a little on this striking and
precious contrast. Here is Solomon in all his glory, with a brighter
halo of human wisdom round his head than ever had any of the children
of men. Turn to 1 Kings iv. 29:--
"And God gave Solomon wisdom and understanding exceeding much, and
largeness of heart, even as the sand that is on the sea shore.
And Solomon's wisdom excelled the wisdom of all the children of the
east country, and all the wisdom of Egypt.
For he was wiser than all men; than Ethan the Ezrahite, and Heman, and
Chalcol, and Darda, the sons of Mahol: and his fame was in all nations
round about.
And he spake three thousand proverbs: and his songs were a thousand and
five.
And he spake of trees, from the cedar tree that is in Lebanon even unto
the hyssop that springeth out of the wall: he spake also of beasts, and
of fowl, and of creeping things, and of fishes.
And there came of all people to hear the wisdom of Solomon, from all
kings of the earth, which had heard of his wisdom."
Is it not a magnificent ascription of abounding wisdom? What field has
it not capacity to explore? Philosophy in its depths--poetry in its
beauties--botany and zoology in their wonders. Do we envy him? Then
listen to what his poor heart was groaning all that time: "In much
wisdom is much grief, and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth
sorrow"! Now turn to _our_ portion above the sun--"the knowledge of
God and of Jesus our Lord": infinitely higher, deeper, lovelier, and
more wondrous than the fields explored by Solomon, in constant
unfoldings of riches of wisdom; and each new unfolding bringing its own
sweet measure of "grace and peace." Have not the lines fallen to us in
pleasant places? Have we not a goodly heritage? Take the feeblest of
the saints of God of today, and had Solomon in all his glory a lot like
one of these?
CHAPTER II.
The wise man, having found that wisdom brought with it but increased
sorrow, turns to the other side--to all those pleasures that the flesh,
as we speak, enjoys. Still, he gives us, as in chap. i., the result of
his search before he describes it: "I said in my heart, 'Go to now; I
will prove thee [that is, I will see if I cannot satisfy thee,] with
mirth; therefore enjoy pleasure:' and behold, this also is vanity. I
said of laughter, 'it is mad;' and of mirth, 'what doeth it?'" For he
now has tried wine, the occupation of laying out of vinyards, gardens,
parks, the forming of lakes, and the building of houses, all filled
without stint, with every thing that sense could crave, or the soul of
man could enjoy. The resources at his command are practically
limitless, and so he works on and rejoices in the labor, apparently
with the idea that now the craving within can be satisfied, now he is
on the road to rest. Soon he will look round on the result of all his
work, and be able to say, "All is very good; I can now rest in the full
enjoyment of my labor and be satisfied." But when he does reach the
end, when every pleasure tried, every beauty of surrounding created,
and he expects to eat the fruit of his work, instantly his mouth is
filled with rottenness and decay. "Then I looked on all the works that
my hands had wrought, and on the labor that I had labored to do; and,
behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit; and there was no profit
under the sun." Thus he groans again,--a groan that has been echoed
and re-echoed all down the ages from every heart that has tried to fill
the same void by the same means.
Ah! wise and glorious Preacher, it is a large place thou art seeking to
fill. "Free and boundless its desires." Deeper, wider, broader than
the whole world, which is at thy disposal to fill it. And thou mayest
well say, "What can the man do that cometh after the king?" for thou
hadst the whole world and the glory of it at thy command in thy day,
and did it enable thee to fill those "free and boundless desires"? No,
indeed. After all is cast into that hungry pit, yawning and empty it
is still. Look well on this picture, my soul; ponder it in the secret
place of God's presence, and ask Him to write it indelibly on thy heart
that thou forget it not. Then turn and listen to this sweet voice: "If
any man thirst" (and what man does not?) "let him come unto Me, and
drink. He that believeth on Me, as the Scripture hath said, out of his
belly shall flow rivers of living water." Thirst not only quenched,
but water to spare for other thirsting ones,--the void not only filled,
but running over with a constant flow of blessing. Who can express the
glories of that contrast?
Pause, beloved reader: turn your eyes from the page, and dwell on it in
thy spirit a little. What a difference between "no profit under the
sun" and "never thirst"!--a difference entirely due simply to coming to
Him--Jesus. Not a coming once and then departing from Him once more to
try again the muddy, stagnant pools of this world: no, but to pitch our
tents by the palm-trees and the springing wells of Christ's presence,
and so to drink and drink and drink again of Him, the Rock that follows
His people. But is this possible? Is this not mere imaginative
ecstasy, whilst practically such a state is not possible? No, indeed;
for see that man, with all the same hungry longings of Solomon or any
other child of Adam; having no wealth, outcast, and a wanderer without
a home, but who has found something that has enabled him to say, "I
have learned, in whatsoever state I am, to be content. I know both how
to be abased, and I know how to abound: everywhere, and in all things,
I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to
suffer need. I can do all things through Christ, who strengtheneth
me." (Phil. iv. 11-13.)
What, then, is the necessary logical deduction from two such pictures
but this: The Lord Jesus infinitely surpasses all the world in filling
the hungry heart of man.
Look, oh my reader, whether thou be sinner or saint, to Him--to Him
alone.
This, then, brings us to the twelfth verse of chapter two, which
already, thus early in the book, seems to be a summing up of his
experiences. "I turned myself to behold wisdom, and madness, and
folly:" that is I looked "full face," or carefully considered, these
three things that I had now tested; and whilst each gave me only
disappointment and bitterness as to meeting my deepest needs, yet "I
saw that there was a profit in wisdom over folly, as light is
profitable over darkness." This then is within the power of human
reason to determine. The philosophy of the best of the heathen brought
them to exactly the same conclusion. Socrates and Solomon, with many
another worthy name, are here in perfect accord, and testify together
that "the wise man's eyes are in his head, but the fool walketh in
darkness." Not that men _prefer_ wisdom to folly; on the contrary;
still even human reason gives this judgment: for the wise man walks at
least as a _man_, intelligently; the spirit, the intelligence, having
its place. But how much further can reason discern as to the
comparative worth of wisdom or folly? The former certainly morally
elevates a man _now_; but here comes an awful shadow across reason's
path: "but I myself perceived also that one event happeneth to them
all. Then said I in my heart, as it happeneth to the fool, so it
happeneth even to me: and why was I then more wise? Then I said in my
heart, that this also is vanity." Ah! in this book in which poor man
at his highest is allowed to give voice to his deepest questions, in
which all the chaos, and darkness, the "without form and void" state of
his poor, distracted, disjointed being is seen; death is indeed the
King of Terrors, upsetting all his reasonings, and bringing the wisdom
and folly, between which he had so carefully discriminated, to one
level in a moment. But here, death is looked upon in relation to the
"works" of which he has been speaking. Wisdom cannot guarantee its
possessor the enjoyment of the fruits of his labors. Death comes to
him as swiftly and as surely as to the fool, and a common oblivion
shall, after a little, swallow the memory of each, with their works.
This thought the Preacher dwells upon, and as he regards it on every
side, again and again he groans, "This also is vanity." (_vv._ 19, 21,
23.) "Therefore I hated life, yea, all my labor which I took under the
sun," and "therefore I went about to cause my heart to despair of all
my labor which I took under the sun." For what is there in the labor
itself? Nothing that satisfies by itself. It is only the anticipation
of final satisfaction and enjoyment that can make up for the loss of
quiet and ease now; prove _that_ to be a vain hope, and the mere labor
and planning night and day are indeed "empty vanity."
Thus much for labor "under the sun," with self for its object, and
death for its limit. Now for the contrast again in its refreshing
beauty of the "new" as against the "old" "Therefore, my beloved
brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of
the Lord, forasmuch as ye know your labor is not in vain in the Lord."
(1 Cor. xv. 58.) "All my labor vanity" is the "groan" of the old, "for
death with its terrors cuts me off from my labor and I leave it to a
fool." "No labor in vain" is the song of victory of the new, for
resurrection with its glories but introduces me to the precious fruit
of those labors, to be enjoyed forever.
Oh my brethren, let us cherish this precious word, "not in vain;" let
us be indeed "persuaded" of it, and "embrace" it, not giving up our
glorious heritage, and going back, as the Christian world largely is in
this day, to the mere human wisdom that Solomon the king possessed
above all, and which only led then, as it must now and ever, to the
groan of "vanity!" But "_not_ in vain" is ours. No little one
refreshed with even a cup of cold water but that soon the fruit of even
that little labor of love shall meet its sweetest recompense in the
smile, the approval, the praise of our Lord Jesus; and that shall make
our hearts full to overflowing with bliss; as we there echo and re-echo
our own word: it was indeed, "not in vain."
The chapter closes with the recognition that, apart from God, it is not
in the power of man to get any enjoyment from his labor. Our
translation of verse 24 seems quite out of harmony with the Preacher's
previous experiences, and the verse would better read (as in Dr. Taylor
Lewis' metrical version):
"The good is not in man that he should eat and drink
And find his soul's enjoyment in his toil;
This, too, I saw, is only from the hands of God."