A major theme throughout Ecclesiastes is that life under the sun is full of futility, vanity. Toil, dust, and death plague our existence. This groaning world frustrates our plans; it robs our satisfaction. Yet, we’ve also seen there’s no shortage to the attempts humanity makes to escape futility.

Money is one way we try this. We toil to accumulate more and more riches: “Maybe with more, I’ll be happier.” Advertisers know this about the human condition. So, a bank ad will say, “You deserve more, so get some more.” A credit card ad will say, “This vacation, you deserve a Lincoln.” In an article that explores the psychology of advertising, Tamara Piety calls these ad companies “Merchants of Discontent.”[i] They make more off people’s insatiable desire for more.

Before her, John de Graaf made a similar observation. You’ve heard of influenza. De Graaf identifies a virus far more contagious—one that has “infected American Society, threatening our wallets, friendships, families, communities, and our environment.” He calls it affluenza: “a painful, contagious, socially transmitted condition of overload, debt, anxiety, and waste resulting from the dogged pursuit of more.”[ii]

We want more. “Surely by having more, my life will have more significance and less frustration.” But the Preacher in Ecclesiastes sounds a warning: money will not save you from the futility of life under the sun. Loving money will leave you unsatisfied, disillusioned, and worse off than the dead. Far better is for God to give us joy in whatever portion we have received. So, today’s big idea goes something like this: joy from above the sun is the cure for greed under the sun. Let’s read together in verse 8…

⁸ If you see in a province the oppression of the poor and the violation of justice and righteousness, don’t be amazed at the matter, for the high official is watched by a higher, and there are yet higher ones over them. ⁹ But this is gain for a land in every way: a king committed to cultivated fields. ¹⁰ He who loves money will not be satisfied with money, nor he who loves wealth with his income; this also is vanity. ¹¹ When goods increase, they increase who eat them, and what advantage has their owner but to see them with his eyes? ¹² Sweet is the sleep of a laborer, whether he eats little or much, but the full stomach of the rich will not let him sleep. ¹³ There is a grievous evil that I have seen under the sun: riches were kept by their owner to his hurt, ¹⁴ and those riches were lost in a bad venture. And he is father of a son, but he has nothing in his hand. ¹⁵ As he came from his mother’s womb he shall go again, naked as he came, and shall take nothing for his toil that he may carry away in his hand. ¹⁶ This also is a grievous evil: just as he came, so shall he go, and what gain is there to him who toils for the wind? ¹⁷ Moreover, all his days he eats in darkness in much vexation and sickness and anger. ¹⁸ Behold, what I have seen to be good and fitting is to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of his life that God has given him, for this is his lot. ¹⁹ Everyone also to whom God has given wealth and possessions and power to enjoy them, and to accept his lot and rejoice in his toil—this is the gift of God. ²⁰ For he will not much remember the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart. ¹ There is an evil that I have seen under the sun, and it lies heavy on mankind: ² a man to whom God gives wealth, possessions, and honor, so that he lacks nothing of all that he desires, yet God does not give him power to enjoy them, but a stranger enjoys them. This is vanity; it is a grievous evil. ³ If a man fathers a hundred children and lives many years, so that the days of his years are many, but his soul is not satisfied with life’s good things, and he also has no burial, I say that a stillborn child is better off than he. ⁴ For it comes in vanity and goes in darkness, and in darkness its name is covered. ⁵ Moreover, it has not seen the sun or known anything, yet it finds rest rather than he. ⁶ Even though he should live a thousand years twice over, yet enjoy no good—do not all go to the one place? ⁷ All the toil of man is for his mouth, yet his appetite is not satisfied. ⁸ For what advantage has the wise man over the fool? And what does the poor man have who knows how to conduct himself before the living? ⁹ Better is the sight of the eyes than the wandering of the appetite: this also is vanity and a striving after wind.

That’s now the seventh time[iii] and the last time you’ll hear the phrase “striving after wind.” Verse 9 marks the halfway point in Ecclesiastes. But to close this first half, we encounter a passage with a unique shape. The passage presents several elements and then restates those elements in reverse order. Some call this literary device a chiasm or a mirrored structure. The shape of the passage drives you toward the middle.

In this case, the two outermost sections mention “the poor” next to humanity’s insatiable desires. The next two corresponding sections mention a “grievous evil” next to examples of people not enjoying what they have. But those outer sections drive toward the middle, God’s gift of joy. So, given that structure, we’ll take this in three parts.

Loving Money Can Never Satisfy

Number one, loving money can never satisfy—this is the two outermost sections, 5:8-12 and 6:7-9. The Preacher is sensitive to oppression and injustice. It came up in 3:16, again in 4:1, now here in verse 8: “If you see in a province the oppression of the poor and the violation of justice and righteousness…” Think of bribing a judge, obtaining property by threats, not paying wages on time, charging unreasonably high interest rates. However the oppression comes, he says, “Don’t be amazed.”

Why? Because “the high official is watched by a higher, and there are yet higher ones over them.” He could be making a point about accountability in government. That is, someone up the ladder will eventually address the wrong. But I’m more inclined to read this negatively. He’s looking at a system in which all the arrogant higher-ups want their piece of the pie. So, “Don’t be surprised by oppression. How could it be otherwise in a world where arrogant higher-ups abuse their clout to get what they want?”

Verse 9 is more difficult. Translations go a couple different ways. One way suggests that the corruption in verse 8 spreads all the way up the ladder. The NIV has, “The increase from the land is taken by all; the king himself profits from the fields.” The other way is like the ESV: “But this is gain for a land in every way: a king committed to cultivated fields.” Taken that way, “the reliance of a society on agriculture prevents corruption from spreading too far,”[iv] as someone else put it.

Either way, the picture in verses 8-9 is one where the insatiable appetites of these higher-ups create economic tragedies for others. I think that’s also what he’s getting at in 6:7-9. He says, “All the toil of man is for his mouth, yet his appetite is not satisfied.” Eating is a metaphor carried over from 5:11. He’s picturing mankind’s insatiable appetite for riches, and how it drives their toil. When that’s your world, how can anybody gain?

Which is the question he asks in verse 8: “For what advantage has the wise man over the fool? And what does the poor man have who knows how to conduct himself before the living? Better is the sight of the eyes than the wandering of the appetite.” That’s an idiom for contentment, enjoying what’s before your eyes in the present—instead of having a wandering appetite that always wants more, beyond what you see.

What’s the point? Contentment is better, but in this world under the sun where appetites are never satisfied, it’s hard for anybody to gain. Even the wise of verse 8 can’t gain; and if the wise can’t gain, what hope is left for the decent poor who conduct themselves well in society? It’s a dog-eat-dog kind of world.

“Maybe, then, we just join them? If everybody’s craving more, and that’s the only way to make it (it seems), might as well just join these higher-ups. Might as well start scratching backs and doing favors. Might as well start getting myself a piece of the pie and seeking more and more”—so the temptations go. But the Preacher says, “Not so fast. You’ll find no satisfaction there. It amounts to chasing the wind.

And to dissuade you further, look at 5:10? “He who loves money will not be satisfied with money, nor he who loves wealth with his income; this also is vanity.” Having money is fine—verse 19 indicates that God gives some people a bunch of it. The problem comes with loving money. So, this is not a “rich people only” problem. Rich and poor alike can love money. It’s not about how much you have but what you love. And when you love money, what you have will never be enough. You always want more.

Verses 11-12 make the point further: “When goods increase, they increase who eat them, and what advantage has their owner but to see them with his eyes?” Perhaps he’s saying that the more you have, the more you watch others eat it away—fees for brokers, wages for property managers, higher tax brackets, freeloaders. But if the “they” in “they increase who eat them” are the same people in verse 12 with full stomachs, a different picture comes into view.

Look at it closely: “Sweet is the sleep of a laborer, whether he eats little or much, but the full stomach of the rich will not let him sleep.” Put verses 11-12 together: those who love money consume and consume and consume (they increase!) until their full stomachs won’t let them sleep at night.” It’s a picture of overconsumption—those who love money can’t help but want more and more and more; and, as a result, they never know true rest. Loving money can never satisfy.

How can you tell if you love money? Money is intertwined with so much of our lives—we earn an income; we make deposits; we set a budget; we support a family; we pay the bills; we need it to travel; we give to others. It’s our primary means of exchange. But when does it morph from a means for exchange into our ultimate purpose?

Well, if we look here, we see how the love of money has driven some to mistreat others. They’re willing to compromise justice to get a bigger piece of the pie. You love money if you’re willing to make moral compromises to keep it or increase it.

You also love money if you’re not willing to do what Jesus tells you to do with it—like when Jesus told the rich young ruler, “Sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you’ll have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” But when the young man heard this, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions. And Jesus said, “It’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” You love money when you can’t let go of it to follow Jesus. When the things money can buy become more valuable to you than Jesus, you’ve got a problem.

Paul also deals with the love of money in 1 Timothy 6:10. “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. Through this craving some have wandered away from the faith.” Loving money has to do with craving money and so hoping in what it can do for you, that you no longer serve God or depend on him in faith. This happened to the church in Laodicea. What were they saying to themselves in Revelation 3:17? “I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.” Their self-sufficiency pushed Jesus away. Are you looking for money to give you something it can’t? Loving money never satisfies.

Having Money Guarantees Nothing

Also, having money guarantees nothing—that’s our second set of verses, 5:13-17 and 6:1-6. In both sections, the focus isn’t so much accumulating more but lacking the ability to enjoy what you have. Look at 5:13. “There is a grievous evil that I have seen under the sun: riches were kept by their owner to his hurt, and those riches were lost in a bad venture. And he is father of a son, but he has nothing in his hand.”

“Bad venture,” “some misfortune”—not necessarily the result of some stupid, immoral decision, like gambling it away. The phrase represents a host of possibilities outside this man’s control: a sudden shift in market; a fire that burns your factory; economic collapse during war. As we saw in 3:1-8, times are unpredictable. We can only respond to what life hurls at us; and sometimes that means we can lose everything. This is a world where thieves break in and steal, where moth and rust destroy.

And if “bad venture” doesn’t strip away our money, death will. Verse 15, “As he came from his mother’s womb he shall go again, naked as he came, and shall take nothing for his toil that he may carry away in his hand. This also is a grievous evil: just as he came, so shall he go, and what gain is there to him who toils for the wind?” When you die, you can’t take anything with you. The wise person receives this. The world’s uncontrollability and our death should keep us from setting our hope in money.

But if those realities don’t reorient your hope, then you’ll spend your days in misery. Verse 17, “Moreover, all his days he eats in darkness in much vexation and sickness and anger.” Money can’t bring you joy—it’s too unpredictable. This is why people get suicidal when the stock market crashes. They’ve placed their hope in riches; and it ruins them when those riches get stripped away. Or you’ve found security in an emergency fund, and it ruins you when the AC unit goes out and the car needs fixing and the dryer breaks—all within a couple of weeks, it’s gone and so is your sense of security. Money can’t be a refuge. It guarantees nothing. It’s too fleeting.

The other story comes in 6:1. “There is an evil that I have seen under the sun, and it lies heavy on mankind: a man to whom God gives wealth, possessions, and honor, so that he lacks nothing of all that he desires, yet God does not give him power to enjoy them, but a stranger enjoys them. This is vanity; it is a grievous evil.” You can have it all—in common grace, God could lavish you with wealth beyond your imagination and yet still withhold from you the ability to enjoy it. Riches themselves cannot guarantee your enjoyment. As Phil Ryken once put it, “Satisfaction is sold separately.”[v]

The story is tragic. But it’s the story of many who have great possessions and yet no true joy. And to make us feel the weight of that tragedy, he puts it this way in verses 3-6: “If a man fathers a hundred children and lives many years, so that the days of his years are many, but his soul is not satisfied with life’s good things, and he also has no burial, I say that a stillborn child is better off than he. For it comes in vanity and goes in darkness, and in darkness its name is covered. Moreover, it has not seen the sun or known anything, yet it finds rest rather than he. Even though he should live a thousand years twice over, yet enjoy no good—do not all go to the one place?”

Stillbirth is one of the most tragic experiences a family could suffer. Some of you have suffered this painful loss or been close to someone who has. Even now, maybe you’re thinking of your child’s name—but not many others know it: “in darkness, the name is covered.” Is the Preacher being insensitive? Just the opposite. Many would say this rich man is surely better off: with all that he has, all that he’s experienced, numerous children, a lifespan twice as long as Methuselah. He has honor, too; people know his name far and wide. Someone might look at this man and then look at this child—who never saw a single sunrise—and say, “What a tragedy! Look at all she missed.” The loss is indeed tragic. But notice what the Preacher says, “That precious child finds rest, rest with God. The greater tragedy is having it all, enjoying none of it, and dying without rest.

In both stories, what is the grievous evil? They don’t enjoy what they have. One eats in darkness in much vexation and sickness and anger. The other has it all but enjoys none of it. And for many under the sun, this is their story. Loving money never satisfies, so they want more and more and more. Having money guarantees nothing, but they spend life thinking it does—hoarding but never enjoying.

Don’t we see this playing out in the life of Judas Iscariot? Among the disciples, he oversaw the moneybag. He pretended to care about the poor, but because he was a thief (Could we say, “because he loved money”?) he’d help himself to what was put in the moneybag (John 12:6). He also betrayed Jesus for money. Going to the chief priests, Judas asks, “What will you give me if I deliver him over to you?” And they paid him thirty pieces of silver (Matt 26:14). Loving money never satisfied Judas. Having it also never guaranteed what he thought he could buy with it.

Jesus’ parable on the four soils rings true: “As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful.” The deceitfulness of riches choked the gospel word in Judas’ life; and it led to the greatest act of injustice—the betrayal and crucifixion of the only innocent Lord of glory. Of course, Judas wasn’t alone. The Pharisees, too, hated Jesus because of the things he said about money. Luke 16:14, “The Pharisees, who were lovers of money, heard [Jesus’ words], and they ridiculed him.”

Jesus hung on the cross because people took their cues from the slave-master called Money. But this was part of God’s plan. Jesus didn’t go to the cross as a mere victim of people’s greed. It was a path he chose before the foundation of the world. If anybody is rich, it’s the Son of God who reins above the sun. His wealth, his kingdom, his treasures are beyond what we can imagine. The New Jerusalem is a city made of “pure gold, like clear glass.” His treasures exist where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves don’t break in and steal. His riches are not affected by this world’s futility.

But this same Lord said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” Though he was in the form of God, he did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped. He emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant. Though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich. Above the sun, the highest of heaven can’t contain him; yet when he took on flesh, the Son of Man had no place to lay his head. He was content with the portion his Father gave him.

Even when everything was stripped from his back, he kept giving more. He didn’t love money, he loved us. He didn’t try to save his life in this world; he gave it up for us all. He died to forgive our greed. He died to free us from that slave-master called Money. He died to bring you into a relationship with God; and through that relationship with God everything changes, including our relationship with money and possessions.

God above the Sun Gives Joy in Our Portion under the Sun

That brings us now to the center: God above the sun gives joy in our portion under the sun. 5:18, “Behold, what I have seen to be good and fitting is to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of his life that God has given him, for this is his lot [portion, your share]. Everyone also to whom God has given wealth and possessions and power to enjoy them, and to accept his lot and rejoice in his toil—this is the gift of God. For he will not much remember the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart.”

From the very beginning of this series, we said that wisdom sees life’s futilities and navigates them by fearing God and enjoying his gifts. We now hear the fourth time the Preacher encourages us to enjoy God’s gifts. Eating, drinking, working, wealth, possessions—enjoy these good gifts from a generous God. You don’t have them simply because you earned them. Who gave you breath and life and all things? All that you have is a testimony to God’s generosity.

But notice what’s also a gift: power to enjoy them. Without God’s work of grace in your life, you will not find true enjoyment. The picture is that God has given you a specific portion—whether big or small. And rather than your appetite wandering off and greedily searching for more—or worrying about what “bad venture” might strip it all away tomorrow—God gives you a supernatural contentment in your portion today. The breath in your mouth, the kids who misplaced their shoes this morning, the people in this room, the lunch you’ll eat afterwards, the car that’ll get you home, the sun that will rise again on the just and the unjust, the job you’ll return to, the money you’ll earn, the bed you’ll lie down in—receive whatever you have today as a portion from God.

And notice, when God gives you the power to enjoy his gifts, you’re not worried about the days of your life. As one commentary put it, “this is addressed to people who already think too much of their lives and of their future, and hence, cannot accept the pleasures of the moment.”[vi] In place of that way of living, God “keeps him occupied with joy in his heart.” A friend of mine defined joy this way: “Joy is the deep and abiding satisfaction of soul that is granted to those who trust that God is good.”[vii]

Don’t you want to be occupied with such joy in your heart? I mean when all the other stuff is still happening under the sun. These words are sandwiched between a heap of problems caused by people’s insatiable appetites. Yet, such joy under the sun is still possible. Not with man. With man, this joy is impossible. But with God, all things are possible. He can keep your heart occupied with joy.

It’s the only cure for greed. It’s the only cure for affluenza, for that “dogged pursuit of more.” The cure for loving money is not a life of austerity, some kind of self-imposed poverty. The answer is not asceticism, the disciplined avoidance of pleasures. No, the cure is a joy in your heart that comes from God, the same God who gave us his Son, the same God who gives his Spirit to produces joy in us. Joy from above the sun is the only cure for greed under the sun.

So, if you find yourself loving money, or being discontent with what you have; if you find your eyes not satisfied with what’s before you but wandering elsewhere; if you find yourself getting sick and angry about losing money, or having lots but without joy, start by asking God (through Christ) to give you power to enjoy your portion. God is the Giver of both the gifts and the ability to enjoy them. Ask him to give you contentment in your portion. Ask him to open your eyes to his goodness. Ask him to increase your gratitude. The grace of God is the starting place for abiding joy.

Also, recognize the limits of money and possessions. What have we learned? Money can’t satisfy. It can’t buy fulfillment. Money is unpredictable. We can’t control what happens with it. It’s also a fleeting thing—we can’t take it with us when we die. If you don’t recognize the limits of money, you’ll be tempted to set your hopes on it.

At the same time, money and possessions are good gifts. We learned that too: God gives wealth and possessions. The dangers of wealth don’t negate the goodness of God’s gifts. So, enjoy them for what they are, as gifts from God. Richard Baxter once described them as “having God’s goodness imprinted on them. They kindle our love for him as love tokens from our dearest friend.”[viii] Paul brings it together like this in 1 Timothy 6:17, “As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty [like the ‘higher-ups’ we discussed earlier], nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches [they’re limited], but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy.”

Some of you might be thinking, “Now, wait a second. Won’t all this enjoyment lead once again to overconsumption? Wasn’t that the problem with the rich guy in Jesus’ parable? His land produced plentifully, and then he built bigger barns. Then he said to his soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God said, ‘Fool!’ Won’t all this enjoyment talk lead there?”

No. The problem with that rich man, Jesus says, was that he was not rich toward God. He believed that life consisted in the abundance of his possessions. Over-consumption is the result of not enjoying God’s gifts for what they are but trying to get from God’s gifts what they can never give. When you are rich toward God, then you will enjoy his gifts rightly; and you will learn how to steward them wisely. Why? Because now your starting place is God, everything you have is from God and for God.

That’s why Paul goes on to say to the wealthy people in 1 Timothy 6:19: “They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share.” That’s right on the heels of saying, “God who gives us everything to enjoy.” When God is at the center of your joy, you share. Joy in the Lord leads to generosity—which is the opposite of the oppressors and the hoarders earlier in our passage. A heart that’s content with their portion is going to be a heart that’s generous to others; and a heart that’s generous to others is a heart that points people to Christ. He was rich, yet he became poor for our sake. Joy from above the sun is the only cure for greed under the sun.

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[i] Tamara R. Piety, “Merchants of Discontent: An Exploration of the Psychology of Advertising, Addiction, and the Implications for Commercial Speech,” Seattle U. L. Rev. 377 (2001).

[ii] John de Graaf, Affluenza: The All-Consuming Epidemic (San Francisco: Barrett-Kohler, 2002), 2.

[iii] The Hebrew phrase rě’ût rûah occurs seven times (Eccl 1:14; 2:11, 17, 26; 4:4, 6; 6:9). If counting a similar phrase, ra’yôn rûah, one could add two further occurrences (Eccl 1:17; 4:16).

[iv] Eric Ortlund, Ecclesiastes (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 2024), 105.

[v] Philip Graham Ryken, Ecclesiastes: Why Everything Matters (Wheaton: Crossway, 2010), 129.

[vi] Choon-Leong Seow, Ecclesiastes, AB 18c (New York: Yale, 1997), 223.

[vii] Ryan Bishop, “The Gift of Joy,” RedeemerGraham.org (August 2, 2020), accessible at https://redeemergraham.org/listen/sermons.

[viii] Richard Baxter, The Practical Works of Richard Baxter, vol. 1: The Christian Directory (Morgan, PA: Soli Deo Gloria, 2000), 214-18.