Together

Everywhere you look, people are asking the same question—sometimes out loud, sometimes only in their private thoughts: What about me? We may not admit it, but much of our daily thinking is wrapped up in that little two-letter word. How do I get ahead? How do I protect myself? How do I make sure I’m remembered? Solomon, the Preacher of Ecclesiastes, cuts right through this illusion. We are not the Creator—we are creatures. Life is not about gaining it all, knowing it all, and being remembered by all. Life is a gift, not a gain.

In Ecclesiastes 4, Solomon records his observations as though he were walking through four different “rooms” of life. First, he steps into the courtroom and sees oppression (vv. 1–3). Power is on the side of the oppressors, while the innocent victims weep with no comforter in sight. The king witnesses three tragedies: oppression and exploitation in the halls of justice, pain and sorrow in the lives of the helpless, and the indifference of those who could have brought comfort. It’s a sobering reminder that life under the sun is often unfair. But instead of despairing, Scripture points us to God as the One who sees, who judges, and who ultimately makes all things right (Ecclesiastes 3:17).

From the courtroom Solomon moves to the workplace (vv. 4–6), and there he notices four different types of men. First is the industrious man, who works tirelessly out of envy—trying to outdo his neighbor. His labor is not motivated by love for God or others, but by competition. Next is the idle man, who folds his hands and ruins himself through laziness. The industrious man has no rest, while the idle man has no bread. Both are empty in the end.

But then comes the integrated man in verse 6. “Better is one handful with rest than two handfuls with effort and a pursuit of the wind” (CSB). This man has learned balance. He works diligently, yet he values peace of mind and quietness of spirit. Unlike the industrious or the idle man, he enjoys both his labor and the fruit of it. The message is clear: better to have less with contentment than much with constant striving. The real question for us is: What are we trading away in pursuit of what will not last?

Finally, Solomon observes the independent man (vv. 7–8). He labors endlessly with no partner, no family, and no heir. He refuses to share the load, refuses to share the joy, and in the end has no one to inherit his profit. His life is consumed with work, but he dies alone. This picture is haunting because it’s all too common. Wealth without relationships leaves us poorer than we think.

Solomon then shifts from these observations to a truth we can build our lives on: “Two are better than one” (v. 9). Life is too hard, too broken, too filled with sin to walk alone. Companionship provides four blessings: working together brings greater reward; walking together brings restoration when we stumble; lying together brings warmth and comfort against life’s cold nights; and watching together brings protection when enemies attack (vv. 9–12).

It’s no accident that God designed His people for community. From the beginning, “it is not good for man to be alone” (Genesis 2:18). The New Testament echoes the same truth: “Carry one another’s burdens; in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). Community is not just a nice idea—it is God’s answer to the presence of sin and weakness in our lives.

But Solomon closes with a sobering reminder in verses 13–16. Even kings are forgotten. Fame, popularity, recognition—all of it fades. The people celebrate the young leader for a season, but those who come later forget him just as quickly. It is yet another form of “chasing the wind.” What matters is not the applause of people, but whether our names are written in the Lamb’s book of life (Revelation 20:12, 15).

So what do we take from Ecclesiastes 4? Life is unfair—yes. Sin corrupts our work, our motives, and our ambitions. But God gives us the gift of community. Two are better than one, and a cord of three strands is not easily broken. When we balance our work with rest, when we pursue companionship over isolation, and when we look to eternity instead of temporary applause, we discover that life under the sun, though often difficult, can still be lived with joy, purpose, and hope.

Friends, let’s not spend our days chasing the wind. Instead, let’s walk together in the wisdom of God, lifting one another up, and remembering that life is a gift from His hand.