Ecclesiastes Chapter One, Filled With Labor

Ecclesiastes 1:8 All things are full of labor; man cannot express it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.

Verse 8 is the culmination of the previous four verses. In fact, verse 3 actually begins a rhetorical question that is nonetheless explored in the following five verses, finishing with verse 8.

While the scientific accuracy of the statements or observations made in this book may be debated (and are debated), that is not the point of the preacher’s message. His message is one of futility, or in the NKJV, vanity. All is vanity, he tells the readership in verse 2. All things are filled with labor, he states in verse 8. Therefore by logical deduction this labor, of which all things are full of, is likewise considered vanity. Verse 3 asks what profit a man has for his labor. Verse 8 concludes that labor fills all things: the sun labors. The wind and water labor as they repeat what seems to be an endless cycle from a human perspective, as it is stated that the earth abides forever. The preacher seems to be suggesting that the earth upon which man finds himself is the singular constant amidst the grinding repetition man is forced into, with time and chance affecting all results, and the end of all labor being death, so another generation may arise, replace you, and start the folly again.

The term “labor,” is the Hebrew, “yagea,” a derivative of, “yaga,” which means, “to be exhausted, to tire, to toil.” In short it means, “tiresome.” Another Hebrew word is used for labor in this book as well, as seen in verse 3. That is the Hebrew term, “amal,” and translates, “wearying effort resulting in worry.” Specifically in this book it refers to the notion of troublesome work, emphasizing difficulty in a task as burdensome. Whereas “amal” (or its derivative) is used 22 times in Ecclesiastes, “yagea” is used but once, in the verse we are presently considering.

The preacher goes on from stating that all things—that is comprehensively all things—are full of labor; that is, they are tiresome and exhausting. One works to work, and said accomplishments are monuments to the purposelessness of effort, if everything under the sun is indeed vanity. That is why the preacher follows this tremendous statement with a succinct observation: “man cannot express it.” The NASB renders this portion, “All things are wearisome; man is not able to tell it.” The Tanakh says, “All such things are wearisome: no man can ever state them.”

Philosophers of both ancient and modern times have grappled with the purpose of humanity on earth. Religion likewise contends with human existence and meaning. But the preacher isn’t exactly tackling the existential reality of why we exist; rather, he’s taking a sobering and somber journey into what he perceives as the futility of how man lives in the light of purpose’s absence. You see, the preacher, being a wise man himself, already determined at the book’s onset that life has no ultimate or absolute meaning under the sun, Ecclesiastes 1:2. The issue of providing explanatory power has been dealt with. There is no explanation, apart from the futility of pointless labor and the cruelty of time and chance invading the frailty of artificial efforts to fabricate meaning. Now what is left is pretense, a clever trick we play on ourselves to teach someone that meaning exists in a world where it is clear that meaning is absent; but futility, wearisome labor and subsequent depression abound.

The preacher knows his audience well. Why? He is human too, of course. He need not reflect on cultures and nations far off or long removed chronologically from himself. The constant of human nature’s insatiable hope for grounded meaning drives each generation ever onward despite the absurdity of ever finding it, and so there is the vacuous lust of seeing and learning that never provides genuine satisfaction. We are all, without question, “always learning and never able to come to the knowledge [recognition] of the truth,” 2 Timothy 3:7, NASB. Yes, there is certainly objective truth to be had, but it is not found under the sun as it were, but from an external source apart from man’s effort and natural observation. For now, until the preacher submits his own evidences throughout the book, we will limit ourselves to remaining under the sun.

We read in Proverbs, “The eyes of man are never satisfied,” Proverbs 27:20. This is explored later in Ecclesiastes when we read, “Yet there is no end to all his labors, nor is his eye satisfied with riches,” Ecclesiastes 4:8. If one were satisfied with looking or hearing, one would stop. Like a man eating until he is filled, he need eat no more because his hunger is satisfied with what he consumed. This seeing and hearing the preacher describes, which is never satisfied, is not idle interest, but genuine searching for something different to arise that provides explanatory power, imbuing purpose into human labor and progress. In fact the idea of progress becomes as hollow and pointless as everything else under the sun, because progress intimates an intended goal and incremental improvement until said goal is achieved. If life is without purpose, and labor provides only exhaustion then there is nothing to progress toward, no upward call or goal. It is parallel at best, moving horizontally, not toward a goal but onward regardless since man is infused with the drive to find or create purpose, cursed to dwell in a world that lacks any type of metanarrative.

The frustration of the preacher may already be felt quite clearly. His reasoning faculties and formidable wisdom are brought to the fore as a very hard case is presented to him to render judgment on. This he endeavors with questionable success. “I set my heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all that is done under heaven,” Ecclesiastes 1:13. But time and chance, whose child is futility, run contrary to wisdom and retard its ability to actually conceptualize or scrutinize a world bereft of meaning. Wisdom prevails when order exists. True order can only exist where purpose is permitted, because purpose—that is, fundamental or objective purpose—defines what man perceives as orderly. 

Wisdom is a tool to help navigate an orderly world constructed by intention. It serves no purpose and actually would have no place or value in the vanity riddled world of repetitious chance. It’s akin to a wizened and learned scholar, filled with knowledge trying to have an educated discussion with a raving lunatic. With the individual divorced from the merits of cohesive thought and edifying communication, the wise man quickly learns that all of his vaunted learning is utterly useless. Yet as the preacher will explain that as every generation marches on in futility to do what the generation before has, he is no different and no better. He employs every talent and power under the sun to disclose what his pursuit of purpose yields.