Introduction
Are you making vows to God in worship, then quietly postponing obedience because you feel you need a little more security, a little more status, or a little more money first? The central lesson of Ecclesiastes 5 is that life “under the sun” becomes empty when I try to worship God with my mouth but live for gain with my heart; true wisdom fulfills my devotion to God and treats wealth as a tool, not a substitute savior. Ecclesiastes is written from the vantage point of life as we can observe it “under the sun”, the natural, earthly ecosystem of gains and losses, pleasures and pain. Week by week we keep asking, What really matters? And whether I admit it or not, I answer that question by how I spend my time, who I pursue, what I do with my free time, and where I send my money. In Ecclesiastes 5, the focus turns to worship: if my religion does not truly honor God, it is vanity, meaninglessness. We previously left off at the sharp warning of Ecclesiastes 5:6: don’t make excuses for why you won’t follow through with what you promised God, “lest God be angry at your words and destroy the work of your hands.” That “cliffhanger” now leads straight into one of the most common excuses I make after I’ve been humbled before God: the pull of gain and honor.
Main Points
Are you making vows to God in worship, then quietly postponing obedience because you feel you need a little more security, a little more status, or a little more money first? The central lesson of Ecclesiastes 5 is that life “under the sun” becomes empty when I try to worship God with my mouth but live for gain with my heart; true wisdom fulfills my devotion to God and treats wealth as a tool, not a substitute savior.
Ecclesiastes is written from the vantage point of life as we can observe it “under the sun”, the natural, earthly ecosystem of gains and losses, pleasures and pain. Week by week we keep asking, What really matters? And whether I admit it or not, I answer that question by how I spend my time, who I pursue, what I do with my free time, and where I send my money.
In Ecclesiastes 5, the focus turns to worship: if my religion does not truly honor God, it is vanity, meaninglessness. We previously left off at the sharp warning of Ecclesiastes 5:6: don’t make excuses for why you won’t follow through with what you promised God, “lest God be angry at your words and destroy the work of your hands.” That “cliffhanger” now leads straight into one of the most common excuses I make after I’ve been humbled before God: the pull of gain and honor.
Worship Vows Versus Wealth Excuses
It’s common to have a moment where God brings me to my knees, maybe through fear, loss, a brush with death, or a wake-up call that reorders my priorities. In that moment, I make a vow: “Lord, I want to live for You. New lease on life. New lease on my marriage. New purpose.”
Then the pressure eases, daily life returns, and my flesh starts negotiating: “Not right now. Let me rebuild first. Let me get stable first. Let me expand my portfolio first. Let me set up my little kingdom, then I’ll come back to that vow.”
Ecclesiastes 5 is loving but firm: delayed obedience often disguises itself as prudence. And very often, the excuse is attached to a dollar sign. Solomon is about to disciple us through that temptation, not as theory, but as someone who tasted wealth, honor, and gain and found what they can and cannot do.
The Ladder Of Oppression And Accountability
Solomon begins with an observation that reaches from the poor all the way up to the palace:
“If you see the oppression of the poor, and the violent perversion of justice and righteousness… do not marvel… for high official watches over high official… moreover the profit of the land is for all; even the king is served from the field.” (Eccles. 5:8–9)
Here’s what I want you to notice: under the sun there is always a “ladder.” Someone takes advantage of someone, and there’s someone above them, and someone above them. It can tempt me to say, “I’m not the problem; it’s the people above me.” Solomon refuses that escape hatch. This message is for everyone, because everyone benefits from the “field” in some way, and in our era especially, many of us live with extraordinary economic privilege compared to most of the world.
So I don’t get to dodge the warning by saying, “I’m not rich,” or “I’m not in charge,” or “I’ll obey God once I’m in a different season.” The question is simpler: Will I seek first God’s will, or will I chase gain under the sun and call it necessity?
Wealth Never Finishes The Thirst
Solomon states the principle plainly:
“He who loves silver will not be satisfied with silver; nor he who loves abundance, with increase. This also is vanity.” (Eccles. 5:10)
If I love money (or love what money can get me), then more money doesn’t cure the craving, it intensifies it. The appetite grows with the portion. This is true far beyond cash: clothes, shoes, cars, vacations, toys, collectibles, achievements, applause. Under the sun, the heart says, “Just one more,” and it never becomes “enough.”
This is exactly why Jesus spoke the way He did about living water, that what the world offers cannot finally satisfy (see John 4:13–14). The point isn’t that possessions are automatically sinful; it’s that they make a terrible god. If I drink from those wells to quiet my soul, I’ll stay thirsty.
So I ask you gently: what is your “silver”? What thing do you imagine will finally settle you? Solomon says it won’t.
Increased Goods Bring Increased Consumers
Then Solomon adds an observation that many people only learn the hard way:
“When goods increase, they increase who eat them; so what profit have the owners except to see them with their eyes?” (Eccles. 5:11)
As wealth grows, dependents grow too. Needs multiply. Expectations multiply. People, sometimes sincere, sometimes self-serving, circle the increase. More money often means more complexity, more pressure, more people needing something, more decisions, more vulnerability. It’s not the simple fantasy of “If I had more, life would be easy.”
This is part of God’s mercy in warning us. If I’m using “just a little more” as my excuse to delay obedience, I’m believing a myth: that gain will simplify my life. Often, it complicates it.
The Rich Lose Sleep, The Laborer Rests
Solomon continues:
“The sleep of a laboring man is sweet… but the abundance of the rich will not permit him to sleep.” (Eccles. 5:12)
The working man, whether he ate little or much, often sleeps because his body is spent and his life is simple. But the rich person may lie awake, not because he lacks comfort, but because his abundance brings restlessness. Sometimes it’s because the body is not disciplined by labor; sometimes it’s because new responsibilities and new anxieties show up with higher ownership and higher control.
Either way, Solomon is pressing the same point: wealth is not the guaranteed doorway to peace. I can possess “the good life” and still be haunted, tense, sleepless, or endlessly preoccupied. If I’m delaying wholehearted devotion to God in order to gain peace through control, Solomon says I’m walking toward disappointment.
Riches Can Become A Severe Evil
Now the warning intensifies:
“There is a severe evil which I have seen under the sun: riches kept for their owner to his hurt.” (Eccles. 5:13)
This is a sobering discipleship moment: it is possible to have blessings that turn into burdens that damage my soul. Solomon calls it a “severe evil”, a serious tragedy, when what I gathered begins to harm me.
He then describes two pains that expose the fragility of gain:
- Misfortune can erase it:
“Those riches perish through misfortune…” (Eccles. 5:14)
- Death will certainly strip it:
“As he came from his mother’s womb, naked shall he return… he shall take nothing from his labor which he may carry away in his hand.” (Eccles. 5:15) “This also is a severe evil…” (Eccles. 5:16)
Under the sun, misfortune is not “if” but “when.” Jesus echoes this reality when He warns that treasures on earth are threatened by moth, rust, and thieves (Matthew 6:19). The final “misfortune” for every earthly portfolio is death. I come in with nothing; I leave with nothing.
So I disciple you with this clarity: if you build your identity on what you can accumulate, you are building on something you cannot keep. You will meet your Maker with empty hands, unless you have something better than possessions to bring: faith, repentance, reconciliation with God through Christ, and a life stewarded for His glory.
Enjoy God’s Gifts Without Losing Your Soul
After tracing the emptiness and dangers of grasping, Solomon pauses to give a practical, humane instruction that applies to everyone living under the sun:
“Here is what I have seen: It is good and fitting for one to eat and drink, and to enjoy the good of all his labor… all the days of his life which God gives him…” (Eccles. 5:18) “Every man to whom God has given riches and wealth, and given him power to eat of it… and to rejoice in his labor, this is the gift of God.” (Eccles. 5:19)
Do you hear the balance? Solomon is not teaching that having resources is automatically wicked. He’s warning that loving gain and living for gain is vanity and can destroy you. Yet he also says it is a gift of God when I receive His provision with gratitude and actually enjoy the fruit of honest labor.
And this enjoyment is not selfish escapism; it’s a call to sanity. Don’t work so hard to build a life that you never live it. Don’t chase provision so obsessively that you miss the people the provision was for. Many of us can relate to the parenting example: we work to provide, and suddenly the years are gone. The discipleship wisdom is: receive each season from God, obey Him now, and don’t postpone love, worship, and presence.
Conclusion
Ecclesiastes 5 confronts me where I’m most tempted to rationalize delay: I can make sincere vows in God’s presence, then excuse my disobedience by chasing “just a little more” honor, security, or wealth. Solomon’s under-the-sun wisdom exposes the lie: money doesn’t satisfy, it attracts consumers, it disrupts rest, it can injure the owner, it can vanish through misfortune, and it will certainly be left behind at death.
So I’m calling you, gently but clearly, to settle this: fulfill your devotion to God without bargaining. Seek His kingdom first (Matthew 6:33). Receive what He provides with gratitude. Enjoy His gifts as gifts. But don’t trade your vow for vanity. Life under the sun only makes sense when it is lived before God.
Father, thank You for Your Word that tells the truth about our hearts and about the emptiness of living for gain under the sun. Forgive me for the ways I have made vows to You and then delayed obedience with excuses, especially excuses tied to money, comfort, or reputation. Teach me to worship You with reverence, to keep my word before You, and to trust Your provision without making wealth my refuge. Give me wisdom to enjoy the gifts You give without being mastered by them, and help me live ready to meet You with faith and integrity rather than empty hands. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Conclusion
Ecclesiastes 5 confronts me where I’m most tempted to rationalize delay: I can make sincere vows in God’s presence, then excuse my disobedience by chasing “just a little more” honor, security, or wealth. Solomon’s under-the-sun wisdom exposes the lie: money doesn’t satisfy, it attracts consumers, it disrupts rest, it can injure the owner, it can vanish through misfortune, and it will certainly be left behind at death.
So I’m calling you, gently but clearly, to settle this: fulfill your devotion to God without bargaining. Seek His kingdom first (Matthew 6:33). Receive what He provides with gratitude. Enjoy His gifts as gifts. But don’t trade your vow for vanity. Life under the sun only makes sense when it is lived before God.
Closing Prayer
Father, thank You for Your Word that tells the truth about our hearts and about the emptiness of living for gain under the sun. Forgive me for the ways I have made vows to You and then delayed obedience with excuses, especially excuses tied to money, comfort, or reputation. Teach me to worship You with reverence, to keep my word before You, and to trust Your provision without making wealth my refuge. Give me wisdom to enjoy the gifts You give without being mastered by them, and help me live ready to meet You with faith and integrity rather than empty hands. In Jesus’ name, amen.