The Loneliness of Life

April 12, 2026|The Loneliness of Life| Ecclesiastes 4

JD Cutler

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Good morning church family, this morning we are continuing our journey through the book of Ecclesiastes. A book of the Bible that puts its finger on the most painful, frustrating, and mysterious parts of life—and pushes relentlessly.

So far, we have pictured ourselves on a journey with the author, the Preacher, the title given to the speaker of this book. In chapters 1 and 2, we were introduced to the frustratingly enigmatic existence we call life. “Vanity of vanities,” says the Preacher.

He begins by declaring that life under the sun is frustratingly empty. Then he brings us along as he tests everything this world offers in the search for meaning—pleasure, achievement, success, laughter, possessions, wisdom, and accomplishment—all the things the world still tells us to chase. And yet, none of them deliver lasting satisfaction.

Even so, as he will do a couple of times through the book, he acknowledges that while these things are not the point of life, they are gifts from God that can be legitimately enjoyed.

Then in chapter 3, he reaches a turning point.

What creates this tension? Why is there no lasting satisfaction, and yet real enjoyment is still possible?

He shows us that this tension exists because God is sovereign and eternal. He governs time, and He has placed eternity in our hearts—but not in our heads. We long for meaning and purpose in life, but we lack the perspective to fully understand it. We know it has order, we also know we are not in control of it.

As we have walked through this from a post-resurrection perspective, we have both identified with the Preacher’s observations and looked beyond his limited understanding to the difference Christ makes. The frustration of life points us beyond the creation to the Creator. The unsatisfying nature of life is eased when we shift our focus from enjoying the gifts to enjoying the Giver. And the tension of life under the sun finds its answer in the reality that we were made for another life—one made possible because Christ entered our story, conquered death, and secured eternal life.

Across Ecclesiastes 1–3, the Preacher has led us from futility, to failed solutions, to divine perspective.

So the question becomes: What now?

At this point, the Preacher changes his approach. The problem is no longer just that life doesn’t work—it’s that we are not in a position to make sense of it.

From chapter 4 through the rest of the book, he begins to explore what life looks like inside that tension. He moves from “I tried this or that” to “this is what I observed.” What follows are case studies of life in a world where God is sovereign—but His purposes are not fully visible to those living within it.

In chapter 4, he begins with one of the clearest expressions of life in a fallen world: Life is marked by broken systems and broken relationships.

That’s an appropriate place to start, because from the very beginning—from Genesis 3—the first thing sin fractured was relationship.

First, between man and woman—they hid from one another by sewing leaves together to hide their shame. Then between man and God—they hid from Him trying to use his creation as cover.

Here is the weight of Ecclesiastes 4: Even in a world governed by a good and gracious God, life under the sun remains deeply broken—often showing itself in relational brokenness. That relational fracture first felt in the garden has echoed throughout human history countless times over.

The vanity of life is not just that it is hard or frustrating or mysterious —but that we are often alone in it.

In a fallen world, the deepest frustrations of life are often felt in the absence, distortion, or instability of relationships. I understand that in a room this size, every one of us carries some frustration or hurt here. Some of us carry wounds—hurt, disappointment, anxiety—that came from others. And just as true, there are people who could say the same about us.

So my prayer this morning is that as we look honestly at the Preacher’s observations in chapter 4, we would find: comfort for where we have been hurt, conviction where we have caused hurt, and caution in how we live moving forward in a broken world.

If you haven’t already, open your Bibles to Ecclesiastes 4. We will read the chapter together and then come back and work our way through it.

Ecclesiastes 4 ESV

1 Again I saw all the oppressions that are done under the sun. And behold, the tears of the oppressed, and they had no one to comfort them! On the side of their oppressors there was power, and there was no one to comfort them. 2 And I thought the dead who are already dead more fortunate than the living who are still alive. 3 But better than both is he who has not yet been and has not seen the evil deeds that are done under the sun. 4 Then I saw that all toil and all skill in work come from a man’s envy of his neighbor. This also is vanity and a striving after wind. 5 The fool folds his hands and eats his own flesh. 6 Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and a striving after wind. 7 Again, I saw vanity under the sun: 8 one person who has no other, either son or brother, yet there is no end to all his toil, and his eyes are never satisfied with riches, so that he never asks, “For whom am I toiling and depriving myself of pleasure?” This also is vanity and an unhappy business. 9 Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. 10 For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! 11 Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? 12 And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken. 13 Better was a poor and wise youth than an old and foolish king who no longer knew how to take advice. 14 For he went from prison to the throne, though in his own kingdom he had been born poor. 15 I saw all the living who move about under the sun, along with that youth who was to stand in the king’s place. 16 There was no end of all the people, all of whom he led. Yet those who come later will not rejoice in him. Surely this also is vanity and a striving after wind.

This morning I want to look with you at five brief observations from the preacher concerned with relational brokenness.The first is…

I. THE PAIN OF OPPRESSION

This chapter opens with the word again, reminding us that the Preacher is not introducing a new subject, but returning to flesh out the realities he has already observed. He has already said: 6 Moreover, I saw under the sun that in the place of justice, even there was wickedness, and in the place of righteousness, even there was wickedness.

Now he shows us what that looks like. “Again I saw all the oppressions that are done under the sun…”

Oppression, injustice, abuse—these are not rare exceptions. They are part of life in a fallen world. The powerful oppress the powerless. But the worst part, he says—the part he repeats—is this: “They had no one to comfort them.”

That’s the emphasis. Not just that suffering exists—but that it is often experienced alone.

Maybe you’ve seen this—on the news, in the world, or even in your own life. When you see that kind of oppression there is an instinct to step in, to help, to comfort. We wish we could reach through the screen and provide food, or water, or just a hug. And yet the Preacher says: there was no one.

His conclusion is intentionally shocking: “The dead… are more fortunate than the living… Better than both is the one who has not yet been and has not seen the evil deeds that are done under the sun. ”

This is not despair—it’s emphasis. It is hyperbole—he is showing us just how heavy life under the sun can be. He wants his hearers to feel the weight of it.

His point is this: Suffering is intensified when it is experienced alone.

And many of us know exactly what that feels like. There are seasons where the burden itself is heavy—but what makes it overwhelming is that we carry it by ourselves.

How different it is when someone is present. Not fixing it. Not removing it. But simply there. The value of presence in suffering is hard to overstate. Hopefully we have all felt the weight lessen when there is someone with us in the midst of difficulties, but too often we know that when life seems hardest, there is no one to comfort us.

This is the Preacher’s first observation: Life under the sun is not just marked by suffering—but by suffering without comfort. There are people all over the world experiencing suffering. Alone and uncomforted. This reality is the greatest reflection of the brokenness of life.

But the Preacher doesn’t stop with suffering. He turns next to something even more subtle—and maybe even more familiar. Not just how we suffer…but how we work.

Because even in our labor—something that should bring purpose and provision—we find that our relationships are not what they should be.

Instead of cooperation…there is competition. Instead of contentment…there is comparison. Which leads to his second observation:

II. THE DISTORTION OF WORK

Look at verse 4:

“Then I saw that all toil and all skill in work come from a man’s envy of his neighbor. This also is vanity and a striving after wind.”

This observation digs beneath what we can see and gets to the motives behind it.

And remember who is talking. This is not someone speculating—this is someone who has lived it. He has worked with the most skilled laborers and produced some of the most remarkable achievements. Listen again to his own description from chapter 2: “I made great works. I built houses and planted vineyards… I made gardens and parks… I gathered silver and gold… I became great and surpassed all who were before me…”

This is a man who has worked with craftsmen, architects, gardeners—people at the top of their field. And yet he has already told us what that pursuit produced: “All was vanity and a striving after wind.”

But now he says—I saw something deeper. It wasn’t just that people worked hard. They worked hard because they envied their neighbor.

We’ve had a phrase for this for years: Keeping up with the Joneses. We look at someone else—and they become the standard.

And if we don’t measure up, we feel behind. So the goal becomes: more, better, faster, ahead And slowly, without even realizing it: coworkers become competitors, neighbors become benchmarks, and life becomes a comparison

The very thing God gave us to enjoy—work—we distort into something that robs us of joy.

To use the language of our day: we grind… we hustle… we chase…Not because we need to—but because someone else has something we don’t.

And if you’re like me, you’re aware of this. You try not to compare. You tell yourself you’re not in that race anymore. I thought the same thing. I thought that I had dealt with that in my life, but let me tell you about something that exposed that in me almost immediately.

Recently, I got a new-to-me truck. It’s the nicest vehicle I’ve owned since I was 18. I picked it up, drove it home, and the next day I was leaving on a trip with a pastor friend. He had already volunteered to drive, but I thought—maybe I should offer to take mine. Air-conditioned seats, backup camera, big screen—I mean, I’m sure he’d appreciate it. But I didn’t say anything. The next morning, he pulls up in his truck. Nice white truck—like mine. I get in—nice interior. I’m thinking, okay, this is good. I’m glad I didn’t say anything. We start driving, and I’m noticing features…thinking, yeah, mine has that… mine has that…Then we get to our first stop. He pushes a button. And suddenly his screen shows a full overhead 360-degree view of the truck as he parks.

Do you know what my truck doesn’t have?

Do you know what I had never thought about before that moment?

And do you know what my immediate thought was? “Man… I wish my truck had that.”

In about two seconds, I went from gratitude…to envy.

I’m sure you don’t ever experience that, but that’s what the Preacher is talking about. When your neighbor gets something—a car, a boat, an exotic vacation—

There’s that subtle voice: “I need that.” “I should have that.” “I need to work harder to get that.”

And suddenly, work is no longer about provision…it’s about comparison. Life becomes an unending, joy-stealing competition. And the Preacher says: “This is vanity… and striving after wind.”

It looks like progress. But it slowly eats at you from the inside.

Which is why he says: “Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and a striving after wind.”

In other words: It is better to have less—and rest—than to have more—and never be satisfied.

And if we’re honest, we know where this leads. When life becomes a constant comparison, when work is driven by envy—we may gain more…but we often end up with less of what actually matters.

Less connection. Less relationship. And sometimes… no one at all. That’s what the Preacher observes next.

III. THE EMPTINESS OF LABOR

Look at verse 7:

Ecclesiastes 4 ESV

7 Again, I saw vanity under the sun: 8 one person who has no other, either son or brother, yet there is no end to all his toil, and his eyes are never satisfied with riches, so that he never asks, “For whom am I toiling and depriving myself of pleasure?” This also is vanity and an unhappy business.

And what does he see? “One person who has no other… yet there is no end to all his toil…”

This is striking. He is working. He is producing. He is accumulating. But: “He has no one.” No son. No brother. No one to share it with. No one to share the load with, no one to share the spoils with.

And the Preacher asks the question he never stops to ask himself: “For whom am I toiling and depriving myself of pleasure?”

This is relational emptiness at the center of unceasing productivity.

We often assume loneliness is accidental—bad circumstances, personality, misfortune. No one chooses isolation.

But the Preacher shows us something else: Sometimes isolation is the result of how we are choosing to live. We work. We pursue. We build. And in the process: we neglect relationships, we distance ourselves from people, we convince ourselves we don’t need anyone.

How many stories have we heard like this? Someone works endlessly—long hours, constant pressure—telling themselves: “I’m doing this for my family.”

And yet, over time: the dinners are missed, the conversations stop, the relationships fade. And eventually: they lose the very people they were working for.

And when they reach the end—no amount of success can recover what was lost. No one wants their tombstone to read: He never stopped to rest. He was a workaholic until the end.

We all know that’s true.

So why do we keep doing it? Why don’t we stop and ask: “For whom am I toiling?”

This is what the Preacher calls: “an unhappy business.” And if we’re honest, we see it all around us. We are living in one of the most productive times in human history—and yet: loneliness is increasing, isolation is increasing, and depression is increasing. As a people, there are more people in the workforce than ever before, there are more dual income families than ever before. Technology has increased our productivity and production rate astronomically. We should be more connected than ever, but we aren’t.

The Preacher would say: That’s not surprising. Because labor, when disconnected from relationship, becomes empty. It produces more—but it gives less.

And at this point, the Preacher has shown us something clearly: Life under the sun tends toward isolation.

We suffer alone. We compete with one another. And we even work ourselves into being alone.

But that raises an important question: Is that how life is meant to be lived?

And the answer is no.

Which is why the Preacher now turns—not just to what is broken—but to what is better.

IV. THE NECESSITY OF COMPANIONSHIP

Look at verse 9:

Ecclesiastes 4:9–12 “9 Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. 10 For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! 11 Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? 12 And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken.”

After eight verses of highlighting isolation, the Preacher now says what we’ve all been feeling: Life would be better with someone else in it.

But we need to be careful here. This passage is often read sentimentally—used at weddings, or to describe marriage. And while there may be application there, that is not the point of the text. Remember the context: oppression, toil, isolation. This is not romantic language. This is survival language. Notice what he says: “If they fall…”“If they lie down in the cold…”“If one is attacked…”

The assumption is not: life will be easy, the assumption is: life will be hard. You will fall. You will face hardship. You will be vulnerable.

But—you don’t have to face it alone.

If there are two: one lifts the other up, one keeps the other warm, one helps defend the other. And even more:“A threefold cord is not quickly broken.”

The point is simple: Companionship strengthens endurance.

This is not saying friendship is nice. This is saying: You cannot endure life in a broken world alone.

And we know this is true. We say it often here, we were not meant to do life alone—but do you know that it goes all the way back to the beginning.

The first thing God said was not good:“It is not good that the man should be alone.” That was before the fall. So if man needed help in a perfect world—how much more do we need one another in a broken one?

And yet, what do we do? We isolate ourselves, We pursue independence, We overwork, We neglect relationships. And then we are surprised when life feels overwhelming.

The Preacher is clear: You will still fall. You will still suffer. You will still face difficulty. But if you are alone—it will be infinitely harder.

Companionship does not remove the hardships of life—but it makes them bearable.

But even here, there’s a tension. Because while companionship is necessary… it is not always stable. Relationships help—but they don’t ultimately solve everything. Worse, we can often mistake approval for companionship. Just because someone is cheering us on, doesn’t mean they will always be there when we need help up.

Which is what the Preacher shows us next.

V. THE INSTABILITY OF LIFE

The Preacher now tells us a story. “Better was a poor and wise youth than an old and foolish king who no longer knew how to take advice…”

We are introduced to two people: a man who has become foolish old king and a man who rises from poverty—even imprisonment—a wise young man. The story goes that the king had everything. But over time, he stopped listening. He isolated himself in his own counsel. And because of that, he became foolish. Meanwhile, the young man is wise, he presumably, listens, connects with people And eventually, he rises up to replace the king. When he rises to power, the people follow him. 16 There was no end of all the people, all of whom he led.

But then comes the turn: “Yet those who come later will not rejoice in him.”

Why? Why would the people who come later not rejoice in this beloved young man turned king?

Because the cycle repeats. The young man becomes the old king. The one who was celebrated…becomes the one who is forgotten. There is something inherent in success that even there we find isolation.

What is the preacher trying to tell us? Even here—even where there is: wisdom, influence, relationships, success

It does not last.

Many people spend their lives chasing: influence, recognition, approval believing that if they can just reach the top…they will finally have something that lasts. If they could just get to the top, life will be made. But the Preacher says: even that… fades.

The crowd that cheers you today, will forget you tomorrow. The position you worked for, will eventually be filled by someone else. We see this all the time in the business world. The smart, young hardworking kid becomes the boss and before long he is old, outdated and left behind and some new young kid is ready to take his place. No one stays at the top forever.

I think the preacher tells this story just in case someone thought that the key to life was to get friends, be wise and heed advice, and climb the ladder. He reminds his readers, this is still vanity and striving after the wind.

Here is the tension in Ecclesiastes: There are real gifts in this life—friendship, counsel, companionship—and they are good.

But they are not ultimate.

They may make life more bearable—but they cannot give it lasting meaning or purpose.

And so the Preacher leaves us here:

In a world where: suffering is often alone, work often becomes rivalry, labor often leads to isolation, companionship is necessary, but even success and relationships are often unstable.

No silver lining, no neat little bow, just the harsh reality of life under the sun.

So the question becomes: Is there anything that actually lasts? Is there anything that alleviates the vanity of this life?

The answer is a resounding yes.

And if you are a believer, you may have felt that tension building throughout this entire sermon: “Doesn’t Christ change this?” Even as I was preparing, I had to be careful not to rush past the intentional tension and weight of Ecclesiastes chapter 4 to Christ because yes, he does in fact change this.

But not in the way many expect.

If you are not a believer this morning, I want you to hear this clearly: Coming to Jesus does not remove these realities.

There will still be suffering. There will still be frustration. Life under the sun will still be difficult.

But—Christ meets us in them. And in Him, these realities are not removed—they are redeemed.

Where Ecclesiastes says there is no comfort—in Christ, we are not alone.

God has given us His Spirit, the Comforter, who dwells within us.

Where work is driven by rivalry— in Christ, we no longer work for comparison, but for faithfulness. We labor not for approval, but unto the Lord.

Where life feels empty and isolated—in Christ, we are given a people. A family of brothers and sisters to walk with us.

Where everything in this life is left behind—in Christ, nothing done for Him is wasted.We lay up treasure in heaven that will never fade.

And where the world forgets—God does not.

Nothing done in faith is unseen. Nothing done for Him is forgotten.

So yes—life under the sun may feel empty and alone…But in Christ: we are not alone, our labor is not in vain, and our lives are not forgotten.

Ecclesiastes unashamedly points out the frustratingly mysterious, often troublesome, enigmatic existence we call life. But there is a reason that God not only allowed him to search for meaning and purpose under the sun, but to record it for us, and then God preserved it in his word for mankind. Why? Because it is not until we realize the depth of our brokenness and sinfulness that we are ready to cry out to the only one who can save us. It is not until we reach the end of ourselves that we discover we cannot do this in our own power and ability.

If today’s message has brought you to that end, here is the good news of the gospel. God hears the heartfelt cry of his children when they cry out for salvation in Christ through faith. If there is anyone here today that describes I want you to know that the invitation to come to Christ is this. Right in the midst of your situation. Right in the middle of your difficulty. Right in the middle of your messy life. You can come. He will meet you where you are.

Let us pray.