As we Come, so we Leave

Ecclesiastes 5:13-17

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. 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? Moreover, all his days he eats in darkness in much vexation and sickness and anger.[1]

"You can’t take it with you.” Undoubtedly, you have heard this folksy caution against becoming enamoured of wealth. Perhaps you have even said those words. Chuck Swindoll comments in a devotional commentary on Ecclesiastes, “Those who grabbed and rose to the top will ultimately release and drop to the bottom.”[2] Statements such as these serve as reminders of the impermanence of wealth to thoughtful individuals. If we permit ourselves to actually think about life, we realise that we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain that we can take nothing from this world [see 1 Timothy 6:7].

Some years ago, I was approached to conduct a funeral service for a woman who had lost all her wealth as result of an investment scandal. Her son and daughter seethed at the unfairness of life, especially the way their mother had been treated. That woman had hoarded all her wealth—putting it all into one place; and because of bad judgement, she lost everything; and now her children felt cheated, losing both their mother and their inheritance. I have observed others who struggled, scratched and clawed their way to the top, investing in a niche market, only to see the bottom drop out of that market. How often have we read of, or even personally known, someone who engaged in a maddening pursuit of their financial goal, only to drop dead of a massive coronary. In each of these scenarios, the individuals “toiled for the wind.”

There is woefully neglected wisdom in Solomon’s dark musings on life. It would undoubtedly be advantageous for us to think carefully and solemnly about what the wise man has said. Solomon was certainly qualified to speak of wealth. He lived in luxury unimagined by the most of his fellow countrymen, and it is fair to say that none of us can even begin to comprehend his was luxurious life. Yet, he said that when a man departed this life, he would leave as he came—naked.

Two Men Destroyed By Wealth — 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. It is easy for us to forget how we arrived where we are. I live so much better than my father ever lived; I dare say that most of us are unacquainted with true destitution such as that experienced by those who survived the “dirty thirties.” Our problem is quite different. Compared to those who went before us, we have incredible wealth; and credit permits us to gain more things through mortgaging our future. Our problem is a glut of “things.”

When I first ventured beyond the hallowed walls of academia in an effort to gain a steady income, I was invited to invest my life in moulding the lives of young men and women by joining the faculty of a black college in Dallas. During an interview with the Academic Dean of the school, he confessed that the institution was not wealthy; consequently, they would not be able to offer me a salary commensurate to my academic standing. He concluded his interview with a confession that included a piece of wisdom that I have never forgotten. “If you don’t never got it, you don’t never miss it.” I found great wisdom in his cautionary words.

Paul asked the Corinthian Christians to reflect on their own situation. They were enriched in Christ in all speech and in all knowledge. They did not lack any spiritual gift. I suppose that other churches would have been justified in admiring them, if not envying them, for the rich gifts they had received. Their blessings only divided them, however. Paul was compelled to ask them, what do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it [1 Corinthians 4:7]? The blessings they enjoyed individually and collectively, the gifts that were operating among them and the stature they enjoyed were all given by the Father. They had nothing of which to boast.

What was true for the Corinthians in the realm of the spiritual holds equally true for each of us in the realm of the physical and in the realm of the fiscal. Ultimately, we have nothing that we did not receive. If we hold possessions, it is in no small measure because God has permitted us to live in a land of peace and plenty. If we are able to use our minds to gain financial increase, God is the One who has given us the ability to think, to plan and to reason. If the strength of our hands has provided what we hold, it is God who gave us that strength. We have nothing of which we can boast.

Whatever we have—whether in the realm of the spiritual or whether in the realm defined by wealth administered in this world—we hold everything as stewards. All that we have is because of God’s mercy; we have nothing of which we can boast.

This knowledge reminds me of a story I heard on one occasion. A newspaper reporter was sent to interview a successful entrepreneur. “How did you do it?” he asked. “How did you make all this money?”

“I’m glad you asked,” he replied. “Actually, it’s a rather wonderful story. You see, when my wife and I married, we started out with a roof over our heads, some food in our pantry, and five cents between us. I took that nickel, went down to the grocery store, bought an apple, and shined it up. Then, I sold it for ten cents.”

“What did you do then?” the reporter asked.

“Well,” he said, “then I bought two more apples, shined them up, and sold them for twenty cents.” The reporter was beginning to catch on and thought this would be a great human-interest story.

“Then what? Then what?” he asked excitedly.

“Then my father-in-law died and left us $20 million,” the businessman said.

That man had already forgotten that he had received wealth. He had not earned it. You have nothing that you did not receive.

In our text, the Preacher presents a picture that is disturbing if we live for what we can gain. Actually, he presents two scenarios of people destroyed through trusting in their wealth. Then, he reminds his readers that the same end comes to all alike. The first of these two men is a man who tried to have it all. He gathered wealth, making it the summum bonum of life. In the end, the thing he loved destroyed him.

Think about that! Wealth destroyed this man! This man, who toiled to become rich, was destroyed by what he had accumulated. In this disturbing scenario, riches proved to be a curse instead of a blessing. Solomon, reflecting on he had observed during his life, remembers that riches were the source of injury for that man. Wealth imposed an obligation on that man whom Solomon once knew, but that man failed the test and squandered what he had by consuming all that he had in a futile quest to obtain more.

Solomon calls the destructive power of wealth a grievous evil [5:13]. More accurately, wealth became for this man a depressing misfortune, or even a sickening tragedy. The word for grievous (hôlâh) is literally “sick.” The word for evil (rā‛âh) means “disaster” or “misfortune.”[3] Through hoarding his wealth, we are led to understand that this man suffered because he denied himself commodities necessary for daily life. The picture is of a man who failed to care for his own legitimate needs because he could not bear to part with money.

Dr. W. A. Criswell related the story of a Kentucky hog farmer driven by an endless quest for money. That man’s life could be summed up by hogs. He raised hogs so that he could sell them and use the money from the sale to buy more hogs, so he could sell them and get more money. That man’s wife lived a hard life, and in her hardscrabble existence, she never had new clothes, because all her husband’s money was tied up in hogs. He had to make more money, so he could buy more hogs and make more money, so he could buy more hogs. She was expected to be quiet and let him make money.

That wife asked her husband repeatedly to give her a little money so she could buy some gingham so she could make herself a dress. She wanted to look nice, and to feel good about herself, as would any woman. But that man refused his wife’s request. He had to make more money, so he could buy more hogs.

A day came in which that long-suffering woman became ill, and the illness took her life. She was buried in the church graveyard.

A few days after the funeral, that man was missing from his home. The hogs weren’t fed and the farm was being neglected. Of course, the neighbours were concerned, and they went looking for that man. Finally, they found him.

He was kneeling at his wife’s grave, and draped around that tombstone was bolt after bolt of bright gingham cloth. The man was weeping and saying, “I’ll give you what you want, honey. I’ll give you all the cloth you want.” But it was too late. He had his hogs, but he had sacrificed what he should have valued—his relationship with his wife. His wealth had robbed him of all that should have been enjoyable, the relationship of a wife and the companionship of one who would share life, enjoying one another.

When the accumulation of goods becomes the purpose of life, the individual is destroyed. Certainly, the miser cannot serve God as long as money rules. Jesus warned, No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money [Matthew 6:24].

When Solomon says of the second man that his wealth was lost in a bad venture, he is emphasising the fact that man has no control over the vicissitudes of life. Perhaps this man thought that he had planned for the future, but he failed to consider that God—not man—controls the future. One bad venture changed everything for this man.

Better never to have had wealth, than once having had it to lose it, for the loss of riches brings distress and disappointment which otherwise would never have been experienced. Loss of earthly wealth can come quickly, and from multiple avenues. Robbery, lawsuits, natural disasters, government seizure—all alike can leave one impoverished, destitute, penniless.

Identity theft and fraud are rampant in our world. In any given week, I receive at least one Email from “the widow” of some wealthy man in “Kuwait,” in “Nigeria,” in “Kenya,” or some other African country. She wants to move money out of her country, but because she is a “Christian,” and because she is “a woman,” she is not permitted to move that money. If I will only put up in good faith, $20,000, or $50,000, or $100,000, she will gladly share her millions with me. The tragedy is that there are people who do succumb to these fraudulent pleas; and those who are duped never again see their money.

We live in a litigious world, and a dismaying number of people are quick to use the courts to seize money from others they claim hurt them through slights, real or imagined. Preachers are vulnerable to such judgements because there are many people whose feelings are hurt through the preaching of the Word. Wounded because a preacher spoke plainly about some sin, such contentious people appeal to a “human rights tribunal” or to the courts to salve their wounded consciences with someone else’s money.

Natural disasters can leave a family rejoicing in the knowledge that they are alive, even though all worldly possessions have been utterly destroyed. Hurricanes, earthquakes, fires and tsunamis during the past months serve to remind us of the impermanence of earthly goods. Each of us have seen pictures of an individual surveying the rubble that was once a home—a woman holding a photo album, a man staring at a child’s book rescued from the mud, each contemplating starting over with nothing.

All those possibilities serve to remind us of the tenuous nature of wealth. Governments also seem to conspire to ensure that we have permanent claim on “things.” Recently, in the United States, the Supreme Court ruled that governments could employ the concept of eminent domain to transfer private property from one owner to another owner, so long as increased tax revenues were likely to increase from the transfer.[4]

Solomon pictures a man who lost everything that had defined his life. All that had defined him, at least in his own estimate, was removed. Then, Solomon informs us that he is father of a son, but he has nothing left for his son. He will leave life as he entered—naked. Thus, to add to his distress as he faces the ultimate indignity of death is the knowledge that he leaves his family in the same destitution he has “enjoyed.”

In the former case, the man sought wealth to the exclusion of relationships and to the exclusion even of providing for the necessities of life. He wound up bitter, angry, and isolated. Perhaps the quintessential example of such a person was Howard Hughes. This powerful billionaire finished his life with fingernails like claws, his beard untrimmed, stalking flies in a sterile room. There is no possibility that anyone would mistake his final days as being marked by joy. There is nothing “happy” in the way he ended life.

In the latter instance, Solomon described a man who came to depend upon his wealth, and when his wealth was lost, he was shattered. His identity was tied up with his riches, and when wealth dissipated, his worth was also gone. The misery that marked these two men is a misery that to this day characterises those who live for wealth.

You Can’t Take it With You — 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. “If you have a love affair with money, you will not have anything but money to leave your family—and you can be sure of one thing: it is as likely to hurt them as it is to help.”[5] The Preacher has presented two pictures of rich men—one who hoarded his wealth, only to discover that the very thing he most wanted destroyed him; one who lost everything he owned, and thus lost stature and standing, at least in his own eyes.

The account the Preacher gives begs us to recall a parable Jesus told of a rich fool. Perhaps you will recall that story Jesus told; it is found in Luke 12:16-21. The land of a rich man produced plentifully, and he thought to himself, ‘What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?’ And he said, ‘I will do this: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God.

Like people who throw away their money buying lottery tickets, this man thought that wealth would solve his problems. However, the sudden wealth that attended his massive harvest meant that he was forced to build bigger barns to hold all his wealth. What should have been a time for rejoicing was consumed with the need to plan how he would conserve what he had accumulated. Because of his plans, this man thought he had provided for the future. He was set for life and his future was secure. God’s assessment, however, was, Fool! That night, the rich farmer died.

Perhaps you will recall the incident that prompted Jesus to provide this parable. Someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.” But he said to him, “Man, who made me a judge or arbitrator over you?” And he said to them, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions” [Luke 12:13-15].

The problem was not wealth, nor even the accumulation of wealth. The problem Jesus exposed was the failure to remember that life consists of more than “things.” I love fishing, and I have a few fishing rods and all the tackle required for enjoying the sport. My fishing partners know that there are few items required for fishing that I do not possess. Similarly, I live in a delightful place for people who enjoy hunting, and I have the accoutrements to ensure that my ventures afield will be productive.

One day, however, I must set aside all that I have accumulated. As I lie on my deathbed, do you actually suppose that I will ask Lynda to bring me a fishing rod so that I may hold it in my hand? Do you suppose that I will ask her to one last time bring my reloading press into the bedroom so that I may crank out some final rounds?

No, never! A thousand times, “no!” When that day comes that I must face death in what will be a losing battle, let the love of my life who has shared her days with me be. Let my children, blessed by Christ and enriched in Him, surround my bed. Let me rejoice in the knowledge of dear friends who love me and who mourn my passing. Let some of those whom I led to the Faith stand nearby, singing one last time hymns of joy that I have loved. That is what comforts now, and that is what will comfort then.

The Psalmist provides perspective permitting a proper view of wealthy people. This is what he had to say about cultivating an appropriate opinion of wealthy people.

Be not afraid when a man becomes rich,

when the glory of his house increases.

For when he dies he will carry nothing away;

his glory will not go down after him.

For though, while he lives, he counts himself blessed,

—and though you get praise when you do well for yourself—

his soul will go to the generation of his fathers,

who will never again see light.

Man in his pomp yet without understanding is like the beasts that perish.

[Psalm 49:16-20]

David is pleading with us to maintain perspective. All mankind must die—even the powerful individual and the wealthy person. All alike at last enter into the democracy of the grave. All mankind must at last share the same conclusion to life—all alike must die, for all alike are contaminated by the virus of sin.

There is a theme here. When he dies, not if he dies, he will carry nothing away. Perhaps you will remember Job as you consider those words. Job suffered dreadfully without knowing the reason for his suffering. When he was notified of the loss of all his wealth, followed immediately by news of the death of his children, Job responded in commendable fashion, as should one who depends on God. That godly man simply said, Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord [Job 1:21].

In that same vein, the Apostle Paul reminded the young theologue, Timothy that we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world [1 Timothy 6:7]. The Apostle continued by reminding the young preacher that the necessities of life should serve to satisfy the Christian. The apostolic contention is akin to the words of Agur.

Two things I ask of you;

deny them not to me before I die:

Remove far from me falsehood and lying;

give me neither poverty nor riches;

feed me with the food that is needful for me,

lest I be full and deny you

and say, “Who is the Lord?”

or lest I be poor and steal

and profane the name of my God.

[Proverbs 30:7-9]

If I live for this dying world, I will have nothing to show at the last. If I live for eternity, I will have a rich reward. Nearing the finish of our race some will perhaps be tempted to think of what is left. I urge you to focus on what will be gained. The goods of this life are for time and they are destined for dust. Spiritual rewards are forever.

As he prepared for his final days, the Apostle Paul wrote Timothy a final letter in which he said, I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing [2 Timothy 4:6-8].

As a Christian, by the mercies of Christ I anticipate life when I am called to leave this world behind. If I have built on Christ, I anticipate a rich reward. If, however, I have lived out my days trying to acquire “things,” I must leave all those “things” behind. That is in part what the Apostle means when he writes, According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care how he builds upon it. For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw— each one’s work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire [1 Corinthians 3:10-15].

If the loss to a Christian who has lived for this world alone is so great, what must be the loss of the one who dies and is not rich toward God? The death of the unsaved is too horrible for most of us to contemplate. We shove such thoughts far from our mind, hoping that by ignoring the prospect of death without forgiveness of sin, we will not be required to deal with the issue. However, the death of the lost means that the surrender all hope and passing into judgement before the Judge of all the universe.

One tragic truth is certain. Each of us is now under sentence of death. What we do with what is entrusted to us here determines our reception in the world to come. Whether we live or whether we die depends upon whether we have received the grace God extends us now. Whether we who are accepted in the Beloved Son are commended or condemned depends upon what we do with what we have received. Yet, we must die.

Democracy in Death — 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? All his days he eats in darkness in much vexation and sickness and anger. Wealth does not spare us from sorrow. Even if we continually gain more wealth throughout the days of our lives, we must leave it all behind. Death is the final negation of misplaced human values, and death comes to each of us. Life is wasted when it is spent in a quest for more wealth. Worse than that, a life filled with the futile pursuit to gather riches leads to anger and gloom.[6] Darkness, I take to be metaphorical for isolation, as Solomon describes a joyless existence.

Two men were discussing the death of a wealthy man. One of the men asked, “How much did he leave?” The other man answered simply, “Everything.” We are easily blinded and therefore forget that riches can never be a permanent possession. In a sense, all rich men die poor, because they leave everything behind.

Man consumed by the love of money works for the wind. He must leave life as he came, and throughout the days of his life, he cannot enjoy what he has. Truly, this can only be described as a sickening tragedy.

When Solomon thought about the sobering fact that he faced death and would at last have nothing of his own to show for all his labour, he was distressed—as we also should be. Earlier in this book of Ecclesiastes, the Wise King wrote, I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind.

I hated all my toil in which I toil under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to the man who will come after me, and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool? Yet he will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity. So I turned about and gave my heart up to despair over all the toil of my labours under the sun, because sometimes a person who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave everything to be enjoyed by someone who did not toil for it. This also is vanity and a great evil. What has a man from all the toil and striving of heart with which he toils beneath the sun? For all his days are full of sorrow, and his work is a vexation. Even in the night his heart does not rest. This also is vanity [Ecclesiastes 2:17-23].

The 127th Psalm is a favourite for many people. The opening words of that Psalm, however, are often neglected, perhaps because we want to focus only on the positive.

Unless the Lord builds the house,

those who build it labour in vain.

Unless the Lord watches over the city,

the watchman stays awake in vain.

It is in vain that you rise up early

and go late to rest,

eating the bread of anxious toil;

for he gives to his beloved sleep.

[Psalm 127:1, 2]

It is that second verse that puts matters into perspective. Anxious toil brings sleepless nights; but the gift of God is rest. Rest implies a mind that is content with the goodness of God in the land of the living. Rest implies a heart that is at peace.

This is the peace that I desire for all who hear this message. That peace is offered in Christ the Lord. He promised rest to all who receive Him and the gift of life He offers. Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light [Matthew 11:28-30].

As He prepared His disciples for His departure from this world, the Master promised, Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you [John 14:27]. Peace, rest, contentment—this is the heritage of the people of God. They are not caught up in the rat race, because the race they are running is not for rats, but to glorify the One who has set them at liberty and given them eternal life. This life is the gift of God to all who receive the Saviour. For this reason, we declare, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved… For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” [Romans 10:9, 10, 13].

Receive His peace and the gift of life that He offers. Begin now to rejoice in the gift of God so that you can be set free from trying to live for what cannot be obtained. Receive His love and enjoy His life. Amen.

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[1] Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. Crossway Bibles, a division of Good News Publishers, 2001. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

[2] Charles R. Swindoll, Living on the Ragged Edge (Word, Waco, TX 1985) 167

[3] See John F. Walvoord and Roy B. Zuck, The Bible Knowledge Commentary: An Exposition of the Scriptures (Victor Books, Wheaton, IL 1983), Logos electronic edition

[4] See Kelo et al. v. City of New London et al., http://www.law.cornell.edu/supct/html/04-108.ZS.html, accessed 23 February 2006

[5] Ed Young, Been There. Done That. Now What? (Broadman & Holman, Nashville, TN 1994) 99

[6] cf. Duane A. Garrett, The New American Commentary: Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs, Vol. 14 (Broadman Press, Nashville, TN 1993) 314