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We spend an enormous amount of our lives thinking about work and worrying about money. How much should we save? How hard should we hustle? Will we ever have enough?
The book of Ecclesiastes meets those questions head-on—with refreshing honesty.
Written by “the Teacher” (Qoheleth), Ecclesiastes doesn’t offer clichés or easy answers. Instead, it introduces us to a key idea that shapes everything else: hevel—a Hebrew word meaning vapor, smoke, or breath. Something real, but fleeting. Visible, but impossible to grasp.
Think of smoke. You can see it. It looks solid. But the moment you try to grab it, it slips right through your fingers. That, the Teacher says, is what money is like. It’s real and useful—but if you try to build your life on it, you’ll eventually discover you’re standing on nothing.
The Big Idea: Money is a helpful tool, but a horrible god.
Below are five timeless insights from Ecclesiastes that help us hold work and wealth with wisdom and humility.
1. Work and Wealth Are Good Gifts from GodEcclesiastes is clear: work itself is not the problem. In fact, the Teacher calls it a gift.
Ecclesiastes 5:19 (NLT)
“And it is a good thing to receive wealth from God and the good health to enjoy it… this is indeed a gift from God.”
Notice where wealth comes from—from God. That means we are not the source of our wealth; we are stewards of it. The Bible never commands us to be poor, unemployed, or lazy. Instead, it consistently warns against idleness.
Work is good. Earning is good. Enjoying the fruit of your labor is good—when it’s received as a gift, not treated as a god.
2. Don’t Sacrifice Your Peace for a PaycheckWhile work is good, toil is not.
Ecclesiastes 4:6 (NLT)
“Better to have one handful with quietness than two handfuls with hard work and chasing the wind.”
There’s hevel again. Hustle culture promises fulfillment but often delivers exhaustion. When success steals your sleep, your joy, and your sanity, something is off.
The Teacher observes that those who work hard tend to sleep well—but the wealthy often lie awake at night, anxious and restless. More money doesn’t always mean more peace.
3. Money Can’t Buy True HappinessIf money could satisfy the human heart, then having more would finally be enough. But Ecclesiastes says otherwise.
Ecclesiastes 5:10 (NLT)
“Those who love money will never have enough.”
The problem isn’t having money—it’s loving it. Wealth constantly promises happiness just one step ahead: a little more, a little better, a little bigger. But that finish line never arrives.
The New Testament echoes this wisdom, warning that the love of money leads to sorrow, spiritual drift, and deep regret. Money makes a terrible savior.
4. Enjoy What You Have Right NowHere’s one of the most practical lessons in Ecclesiastes:
Ecclesiastes 6:9 (NLT)
“Enjoy what you have rather than desiring what you don’t have.”
Wealth can’t buy happiness—but what you already have can be enjoyed. Contentment isn’t getting everything you want; it’s learning to appreciate what God has already given.
Gratitude replaces coveting. Presence replaces comparison. Jesus reinforced this truth when he warned that life is not measured by how much we own.
5. You Can’t Take Any of It With YouEcclesiastes repeatedly reminds us of a simple reality: we arrive with nothing, and we leave with nothing.
Ecclesiastes 5:15 (NLT)
“We can’t take our riches with us.”
This truth isn’t meant to depress us—it’s meant to free us. There are no hearses pulling U-Hauls. One second after you die, your net worth is zero.
That’s why Jesus ends his parable in Luke 12 with a warning: a person is foolish to store up earthly wealth but not have a rich relationship with God.
The Solid Ground Beneath It AllMoney is hevel. Real, but fleeting. Useful, but unreliable.
God, on the other hand, is solid ground.
The gospel invites us to stop worshiping the gift and start trusting the Giver. True wealth isn’t found in what we accumulate—but in a relationship with God that can never be taken away.
Luke 12:21 (NLT)
“A person is a fool to store up earthly wealth but not have a rich relationship with God.”
That kind of wealth lasts forever.
Ecclesiastes has a way of cutting through our assumptions and exposing reality. Where Proverbs often presents life in clean cause-and-effect terms—do this and you’ll get that—Ecclesiastes responds with a sobering reminder: life isn’t that simple. This book gives us a clear-eyed look at life “under the sun,” meaning life as it exists in a fallen, broken world.
Last week, we were introduced to two key ideas that shape the entire book. The first is Qoheleth, the “Teacher,” whose reflections form Ecclesiastes. The second is hevel, a word translated “meaningless,” but more accurately understood as vapor or smoke—something fleeting, elusive, and impossible to grasp. The Teacher’s message is not that life has no value, but that life under the sun cannot bear the weight of our ultimate expectations. We were made for more than this world alone.
This week, the Teacher turns his attention to pleasure.
The Promise of PleasureIn the ancient world, pleasure was often elevated as the highest good. Today, we use words like hedonic to describe short-term, sensory enjoyment, and hedonism to describe the belief that pleasure should be the primary goal of life. The logic is simple: if it feels good, do it; if it hurts, avoid it.
That mindset feels especially familiar in modern culture. We chase experiences, comfort, entertainment, success, and romance with the hope that the next thing will finally satisfy us. Yet experience tells us something isn’t working. The more we pursue pleasure directly, the more restless we become.
Thousands of years before neuroscientists studied dopamine or psychologists described the “hedonic treadmill,” King Solomon ran a real-world experiment to see if pleasure could satisfy the human soul.
Solomon’s Great ExperimentIn Ecclesiastes 2:1–11 (NLT), Solomon describes his pursuit of pleasure in sweeping, exhaustive terms. He explored laughter and entertainment, concluding that constant amusement ultimately rang hollow. He turned to alcohol, attempting to numb the weight of life while still clinging to wisdom. He invested in massive building projects, vineyards, gardens, and infrastructure—accomplishments that would rival any modern empire.
He accumulated wealth, assets, and power beyond any king before him. He surrounded himself with music, beauty, and sexual pleasure, withholding nothing his heart desired. By every standard—ancient or modern—Solomon lived the dream. “Anything I wanted, I would take,” he writes. Ecclesiastes 2:10.
And yet, after surveying it all, his conclusion is devastating: “But as I looked at everything I had worked so hard to accomplish, it was all so meaningless—like chasing the wind. There was nothing really worthwhile anywhere.” Ecclesiastes 2:11.
Once again, the word hevel appears. Vapor. Smoke. Nothing solid enough to build a life on.
Why Pleasure Can’t DeliverSolomon’s conclusion mirrors what many experience today. Pleasure produces a genuine emotional spike, but it doesn’t last. Over time, what once felt exciting becomes ordinary. To feel the same rush again, we need more—more success, more stimulation, more affirmation. This cycle leaves us constantly chasing, but never arriving.
The problem isn’t pleasure itself. The problem is asking pleasure to do what it was never designed to do. Pleasure can enhance life, but it cannot anchor it. When we treat pleasure as ultimate, disappointment is inevitable.
The Other ExtremeWhen pleasure fails, some people swing in the opposite direction. Instead of indulgence, they choose denial. This mindset—often called asceticism—assumes that avoiding pleasure makes us more spiritual or more righteous. But Scripture rejects that extreme as well.
From the very beginning, God placed humanity in a garden filled with beauty and abundance. Genesis 2 describes trees that were not only good for food, but also pleasing to the eye. Pleasure was part of God’s original design. He is not anti-enjoyment; He is anti-idolatry.
A Better Way ForwardSolomon eventually arrives at a wiser conclusion. “So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can,” he writes, “and people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.” Ecclesiastes 3:12–13.
This is the balance Ecclesiastes calls us to embrace. Hedonism says, pleasure is my god. Asceticism says, pleasure is my enemy. The gospel says, pleasure is a gift. Gifts are meant to be received with gratitude, not clutched with desperation.
Solomon had everything and still felt empty. Jesus, on the other hand, lived with almost nothing—and was perfectly full. Jesus offers what pleasure never can: “My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.” John 10:10.
True satisfaction isn’t found in chasing pleasure, but in trusting the One who gives it.
Ecclesiastes: A Brutally Honest Take on Faith
We’re kicking off a new series in one of the most surprising books in the Bible: Ecclesiastes. When we first mentioned it during our Christmas Eve services, some of you probably wondered, “Ecclesiastes? To start the new year?” But that question actually proves the point. Ecclesiastes meets us right where many of us already are—tired, questioning, and wondering if the things we chased were ever meant to satisfy us in the first place.
We’ve titled this series A Brutally Honest Take on Faith because Ecclesiastes doesn’t sugarcoat reality. It names the frustrations, disappointments, and injustices of life head-on. If you’re not paying attention, you might miss the point and assume the book is bleak or hopeless. But if you lean in, you’ll find something far more helpful: clarity, perspective, and hope grounded in God rather than circumstances.
Humanity has always asked the same questions we’re asking today: What’s the point? Why does so much effort feel so empty? Ecclesiastes reminds us that “there is nothing new under the sun.” We’re not the first generation to wrestle with disillusionment, and we won’t be the last.
Think about it—have you ever worked hard to achieve something, only to find it didn’t really satisfy? A promotion that felt anticlimactic. A dream vacation that still left you restless. Even incredible accomplishments can fall flat. After winning his third Super Bowl in five years, Patrick Mahomes famously said in a postgame interview, “We’re not done.” Even at the pinnacle, he was already looking ahead. Success under the sun never seems to be enough.
Before digging into the text, it helps to understand what kind of book Ecclesiastes is. The Bible tells one unified story, but it does so through many literary genres—history, law, prophecy, poetry, and wisdom. Ecclesiastes belongs to the wisdom literature, alongside Proverbs and Job. Within the ancient Near East, there was even a subgenre called pessimism literature. Ecclesiastes is the Bible’s only example of it. But unlike other ancient pessimistic writings, Ecclesiastes is not hopeless. It acknowledges life’s frustrations while still pointing us toward joy and meaning rooted in God and eternity.
Ecclesiastes opens like this:
Ecclesiastes 1:1–11 (NLT) – “These are the words of the Teacher, King David’s son, who ruled in Jerusalem.”
The “Teacher” is widely understood to be Solomon. His achievements, wisdom, and wealth align perfectly with what we know from 1 Kings and 2 Chronicles. The Hebrew title for the Teacher is Qoheleth, meaning one who addresses or gathers an assembly. It carries the sense of a seasoned king standing before his people saying, “Listen—I’ve tried it all.”
Solomon likely wrote Proverbs earlier in life—practical wisdom that describes how life generally works. But Ecclesiastes reads like wisdom forged in disappointment. It’s a no-nonsense response to the simplicity of Proverbs. Proverbs says, “Do this, and you’ll get that.” Ecclesiastes replies, “Life isn’t that simple.” The wisest man on earth had lived long enough to see that even true principles don’t always play out the way we expect.
That’s why Ecclesiastes resonates so deeply with our culture. Many of us feel wounded by unfairness, disillusioned by unmet expectations, or hurt by institutions—even the church. Ecclesiastes doesn’t dismiss those experiences. It validates them while redirecting our hope.
That leads us to the central idea of chapter one: a life focused only on what is temporary will always feel empty.
“Everything is meaningless,” the Teacher says. The Hebrew word is hevel—used nearly forty times in the book. It literally means “breath” or “vapor.” Life under the sun is thin, fleeting, and impossible to grasp. Interestingly, hevel is also the name Abel—the first person to die in human history. His life was unjustly cut short, reinforcing the truth that even doing everything right doesn’t guarantee fair outcomes.
The Teacher contrasts life “under the sun” with God in heaven. What we chase here is unstable and unsatisfying. King David understood this too:
Psalm 39:5 (NLT) – “At best, each of us is but a breath.”
Yet David doesn’t end there. He asks the right question:
Psalm 39:7 (NLT) – “And so, Lord, where do I put my hope? My only hope is in you.”
That’s the heartbeat of Ecclesiastes. Life under the sun will disappoint—but we were made for more than life under the sun.
Believers live with an eternal perspective while remaining fully present. Jesus promises not just future life, but abundant life now:
John 10:10 (NLT) – “My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.”
That life begins today—through gratitude, faithfulness, and trust in God’s purposes, even in hardship.
The book closes its opening section by reminding us that history repeats itself and human achievements fade from memory. But the gospel gives us a greater hope:
Hebrews 12:24 (NLT) – “You have come to Jesus… whose blood speaks of forgiveness instead of crying out for vengeance like the blood of Abel.”
Life under the sun is fleeting. Life in Christ is forever. That’s the honest—and hopeful—message of Ecclesiastes.
Failure is rarely a single event; often, it is a slow leak that bursts when we are most comfortable. This episode explores the dramatic fall and restoration of King David, a man who transitioned from a shepherd-warrior to a king, only to collapse under the weight of his own success. Through the lens of 2 Samuel 11 and David’s raw response in Psalm 51, we examine the anatomy of a "godly sorrow" that leads to true transformation. We learn that while failure can feel like a dead end, in the hands of a merciful God, it becomes a doorway to a re-created heart and a redeployed purpose. This is a powerful reminder that we aren’t defined by our worst moments, but by the grace that finds us in them.
Key Takeaways1. Failure Can Become a Doorway, Not a Dead EndMany people allow their worst mistakes to become their permanent identity. David, however, chose to name his sin without excuses.
David didn't shift the blame to his circumstances or other people. He looked inward and invited God’s scrutiny.
True repentance is more than just stopping a bad habit; it is a request for a total spiritual overhaul.
God does not put forgiven people on a "spiritual bench." He uses their redeemed stories to reach others.
Failure is never final for the person who returns to God. We don't reach heaven because we are good; we reach it because we are forgiven.
In this episode, we dive into the life of David during one of his darkest hours—the burning of Ziklag. We often expect God to lead us along the most efficient path to our dreams, but David’s journey proves that God prioritizes formation over fast-tracking. When exhaustion leads to compromise and our "safety nets" go up in flames, it isn't a sign of God’s absence, but a setup for His deliverance. This conversation serves as a powerful reminder that you are often closest to the promise right when the pressure is at its peak.
The Big IdeaGod’s route to His promises is rarely efficient—it’s fruitful. When Ziklag burns and hope falters, don’t quit. Strengthen yourself in the Lord, inquire of Him, and obey—you’ll find the promise is closer than you think.
Key TakeawaysLife is full of moments where we are "done dirty"—betrayed, slandered, or deeply wounded by those we trust. In this episode, we explore the life of David, a man who transitioned from a national hero to a hunted fugitive following the brutal betrayal of Doeg the Edomite. Through an in-depth look at Psalm 52, we uncover David’s blueprint for maintaining a clean heart in the midst of extreme injustice. Instead of letting bitterness take root, David shows us how to pivot from pain to praise. Whether you are currently walking through a season of "biblical lament" or struggling to forgive a past hurt, this episode offers five practical, gospel-centered steps to ensure that you don't just go through the hurt, but grow through it.
Key Takeaways: 5 Steps to Guard Your HeartReference
Key Insight
Psalm 52
David’s response to betrayal and his commitment to trust God.
1 Samuel 21-22
The historical context of David’s flight from Saul and Doeg’s betrayal.
Psalm 62:8
"Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge."
Romans 12:19-21
The command to never take revenge and to overcome evil with good.
Proverbs 4:23
The importance of guarding your heart above all else.
Psalm 139:23-24
A prayer for God to search our hearts and point out offensive ways.
Genesis 50:20
"You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good."
Notable Quotes"If we don’t take our pain to God, our pain will take us.""Vengeance chains you to the very thing God wants to free you from.""Everyone will go through hurt, but not everyone will grow through hurt."The Power of ForgivenessWe conclude with the powerful story of Corrie ten Boom, a Holocaust survivor who faced one of her former prison guards years after the war. Her story reminds us that forgiveness isn't a feeling we manufacture, but a grace we access through Jesus. As Corrie famously demonstrated, extending the hand of forgiveness sets the prisoner free—only to realize the prisoner was you.
Comparison is the silent killer of joy. It steals your confidence, shifts your focus, and leaves you spiritually drained. In this episode, we dive into 1 Samuel 18 to look at the lives of Saul and David. David’s victory over Goliath should have been a moment of national unity, but instead, it exposed the dangerous power of comparison in King Saul’s heart.
Join us as we explore how to break free from the "sideways energy" of jealousy and find true confidence in your identity in Christ.
Key Takeaways:[00:00] The Celebration That Turned Into Jealousy David’s victory was celebrated by the nation, but Saul fixated on the lyrics: "Saul has killed his thousands, and David his ten thousands!" (1 Samuel 18:7). Saul heard a threat where he should have heard a victory for God.
[04:30] The Modern Comparison Trap Social media has made comparison effortless. We discuss how "scrolling" affects our spiritual health and why Psalm 34:10 is the antidote: "Those who seek the Lord will lack no good thing."
[09:15] Sideways Energy Saul spent more time watching David than ruling his kingdom. We look at Jesus’ words to Peter in John 21:22: "What is that to you? As for you, follow me."
[15:45] From Competition to Confidence The Gospel replaces insecurity with identity. Like the Apostle John, we can move from chasing status to resting in the love of the Father (1 John 3:1).
Scripture References:In this episode of the PursueGOD podcast, we dive into the life of David to discover a fundamental truth: God’s promises always come with a process. Long before David stood on the battlefield against Goliath, he was being shaped in the "darkroom" of the wilderness. Through faithful obedience in small things, private victories over hidden temptations, and the courage to lead with his unique giftings, David became a man after God's own heart.
Whether you feel hidden in an "inglorious" season or are facing your own "lions and bears," this conversation will help you recognize God's hand at work in your development. Learn why your private faithfulness is the prerequisite for your public calling and how God is already orchestrating the "good things" planned for your life.
Key Discussion Points1. Developed in the DarkroomThe making of a leader happens in hidden places. Like a photograph, if we are exposed to the "light" of fame or responsibility too soon, the image is ruined. David’s journey to the throne began with a "cheese run"—a simple act of obedience to his father (1 Samuel 17:17-20).
Before David faced the giant, he faced the lion and the bear in solitude (1 Samuel 17:34-37). Your private battles—with pride, envy, or lust—are the training ground for your future.
David refused Saul’s heavy armor because he hadn't "tested" it. He knew that a sling he was used to was better than a sword he couldn't carry (1 Samuel 17:38-40).
God isn’t improvising your story; He is orchestrating it. Just as the head of the idol Dagon fell before the Ark years prior, David’s victory over Goliath was a prophetic echo of God’s supremacy.
In this episode, we kick off a 6-week series exploring the life of David, one of the most significant figures in the Bible. But to understand the king David became, we first have to look at the man he replaced: Saul.
Saul looked like a king on the outside—tall, handsome, and commanding—but his heart drifted from God on the inside. Through the story of Israel’s first king, we discover that it’s possible to "look the part" while lacking spiritual power. We’ll contrast Saul’s heart with David’s and identify three dangerous spiritual drift patterns: fear, expedience, and pride.
Key Discussion Points1. From Fear to TrustWhen God doesn’t show up on our timeline, fear often takes the driver’s seat. Saul felt "compelled" to disobey God’s instructions because he was afraid of his dwindling army and a looming enemy.
Expedience is taking the convenient shortcut rather than doing what is right. Saul tried to mask his partial obedience as a "sacrifice" to God, but Samuel reminded him that "obedience is better than sacrifice."
Even when confronted with his sin, Saul’s primary concern was his public image. He asked Samuel to honor him before the elders rather than humbling himself before God.
God rejected Saul’s man-made efforts and chose David—a man after His own heart. While Saul represented human effort, David’s story points us toward grace. Centries later, Jesus (the "Source and Heir of David") offers us the same Spirit that empowered David. When we fail, Jesus provides the transformation we cannot achieve on our own.
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