Category: Devotional

Ecclesiastes As Invitation

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

The book of Ecclesiastes occupies a unique place in the Bible. It is the only book of philosophy, it is the book that speaks most relentlessly about death, and it is the only book supplying the lyrics to a #1 Billboard song in 1965.

Ecclesiastes is also brutally honest about life in a fallen world. It is so honest, in fact, that some Christians find its assertions and conclusions difficult to stomach.

But we will make no apologies. The Preacher of Ecclesiastes takes a clear-eyed look at the world around him and reports his often-devastating findings. If we listen closely, these observations ring in harmony with the frustrations we hear from our neighbors, our coworkers, and our own hearts.

All is Vanity

My neighbors don’t usually use language like “vanity” or “meaningless,” but I catch the sentiment in some of their complaints.

What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?
The sun rises, and the sun goes down, and hastens to the place where it rises.
All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full; to the place where the streams flow, there they flow again.
What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun. (Ecclesiastes 1:3, 5, 7, 9)

Perhaps you’ve heard (and thought) it too! I’m stuck, making no progress in my life. I hate doing all of these tasks over and over and over—it seems like I’m never done. I thought we were making progress as a society, but I see the same old things come up year after year.

Ecclesiastes opens with a discussion of the absurdity that gives the book its distinct flavor. Specifically, the first eleven verses of the first chapter provide the book’s most extensive explanation of the word translated “vanity” or “meaningless.” I’d wager that if you haven’t expressed some version of these thoughts, you probably haven’t been honest about your experience of life.

Return to the Dust

While we don’t often talk about death in casual conversation, everyone knows it’s coming.

I said in my heart with regard to the children of man that God is testing them that they may see that they themselves are but beasts. For what happens to the children of man and what happens to the beasts is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. They all have the same breath, and man has no advantage over the beasts, for all is vanity. All go to one place. All are from the dust, and to dust all return. (Ecclesiastes 3:18–20)

Given the right setting and a close degree of friendship, we don’t need to scratch too deeply to broach this topic. Almost everyone has had a relative, friend, or pet die. Our lives are inescapably finite, and the Preacher of Ecclesiastes points this out in ways we might resent.

How steep was the fall of humanity into sin? The Preacher says: it was THIS steep—man has no advantage over the beasts. The Fall was devastating, with infinitely many consequences, and the Preacher insists we not look away.

Injustice

Whether in national headlines or in booths at local diners, injustice is a hot topic.

There is a vanity that takes place on earth, that there are righteous people to whom it happens according to the deeds of the wicked, and there are wicked people to whom it happens according to the deeds of the righteous. I said that this also is vanity. (Ecclesiastes 8:14)

Why do the wicked prosper? Why aren’t good people rewarded? If we’re looking honestly at the world, we need to grapple with these questions and be ready to discuss them with our curious friends, because they surely are thinking (if not talking) about them.

An Invitation to the Bible

Our friends who have little familiarity with the Bible may be surprised to hear that these frustrations are voiced in the Bible. No, it’s not just “a list of rules” or “moral stories.”

Those same friends need to hear that the Scriptures also address those same frustrations. And, when possible, these friends need to hear it from us!

God knows the dissatisfaction and discouragement you feel. It’s in the Bible! Wouldn’t you like to hear the remedy the Bible prescribes?

Many people view Ecclesiastes as a confusing, downer of a book. But if we listen closely to both the Preacher and our neighbors, we might find instead that it is a great start to deeper, spiritually-significant conversations.

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How Loss Informs Life

Posted onAuthorMeghan Watt

“I work, I want to do something, and I’ve forgotten that everything will end, that there is—death.”

Between my sporadic Sunday School attendance this summer and my wrist falling numb under the weight of my nightly reading, I’m not sure which book I’m in lately: Anna Karenina or Ecclesiastes. If you’ve never had the pleasure of reading Leo Tolstoy’s works, I commend them to you. However, you need not go down the rabbit hole of Russian literature to understand the human experience expressed in the quote above.

Anna Karenina is not just a story about the societal expectations and scandals of 19th century Russia; it follows the results of the fall from Eden to now. The frustrations experienced are part socio-economic, part relational, part vocational. I’m through about two-thirds of the novel, where the frustrations are largely vocational—but not at the root. At the root the frustration is death.

Konstantin Levin is a protagonist in Tolstoy’s story, and the reader can find him relatable in his natural pragmatism and solution-oriented reasoning. His brother, Nikolai Dmitrich Levin, is quite the opposite: heavily philosophical and driven into a little bit of madness by speculation and addiction. Konstantin (Levin) owns a large estate and is in the farming business, while Nikolai has spent much of his time in the city as some loose version of the prodigal son. The two brothers spend a lot of their conversations missing one another like ships in the night. Where one is spinning his wheels seeking to understand the solution to inefficient farming and agricultural work, the other is burying himself in political movements and skepticism.

During one notable visit from his brother, Levin quickly realizes that Nikolai is dying. He shows up to Levin’s door quite sick, both understanding what neither one will admit. As he coughs deeply into the night in the other room, Levin has the soul-shaking epiphany that death will end it all. For everyone.

Death, the inevitable end of everything, presented itself to him for the first time with irresistible force. And this death, which here, in his beloved brother… was not at all as far off as it had once seemed to him before. It was in him, too—he felt it. If not now, then tomorrow, if not tomorrow, then in thirty years—did it make any difference? (pg. 348)

Ignorance is Bliss?

This painful reality should feel somewhat familiar to each of us. Whether it’s a sudden onset, or a slow realization, at some point we each turn a corner and see a glimpse of our fragility. Here Levin is trying, in vain, to circumvent the reality that faces him now, with raised eyebrows and a taunting grin.

You thought you might evade me, Death mocks.
To which Levin answers, I thought nothing of you at all.

I remember reading a verse in Ecclesiastes shortly after confessing Christ in college: “It is better to go to the house of mourning than the house of feasting…” It struck me so oddly as a twenty-something who loved a good gathering of laughter. I remember wondering if the author was being contrary for dramatic effect or had intended his proverb to be read with a hint of sarcasm. Choosing a funeral over a party? I had no category for that. Wasn’t death the enemy? I hadn’t yet watched suffering, I didn’t have friends who miscarried, and I wasn’t familiar with faces that had seen war. I, in Levin’s company, hadn’t given death much thought at all.

About seven years later, kneeling beside my father’s hospital bed, I finally realized that life was delicate, and I read Ecclesiastes in a new light. There was something validating and freeing in the Preacher’s words. Like Levin, I caught sight of something greater that would swallow me up without a Savior. And like Levin, I faced loss, and with loss, I faced life. What did it mean to live if this is what it was to die? Even the best memories fade like a lingering breath and we must face the fact that our hard work and legacies will one day buckle underneath the weight of an ending. Similarly to you, perhaps, I realized that every day begged the question, then what for?

The Only Ground is Gospel

The rest of Ecclesiastes 7:2 reads, “for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.” This is instructive for our smiles and for our sorrows, no matter our age. The end of all mankind is the house of mourning, and death is no respecter of persons. Neither the Preacher, nor Tolstoy, gives us anywhere else to land. And therein lies the great hope of Christ. There is another side and its name is Eternity. The low blows and deep pains of this life are overshadowed by the Son that never sets. Because of the gospel, we have an endless peace that doesn’t delude itself into thinking there is meaning to be found here outside of Christ. He saw the great vanity of mankind for what it truly was—the senseless suffering that it actually is—and instead of avoiding the gaze of death, he entered into it. He overthrew it. He conquered the absurdity of this meaningless mess.

And still, he calls it good that we might enter the house of mourning. The God of Scripture compels us to stare down our fragility without wincing. We must see the suffering to see the joy. We must look deeply into the eyes of hopeless toil if we’re ever to work for the glory of God. We must step over the threshold of the sick and dying if we’re ever to hold a newborn baby dearly. We must stand near the coffin if we’re ever to laugh well with our friends.

I’m fairly certain that Nikolai will die of the illness he carries. I’m not sure about the course of Levin’s life. I don’t know if the redeemable qualities of Tolstoy’s writings will trace the gospel call to the lost and dying. But one thing I know is that God has used, and will use, the frailty of our frame to remind us of his perfect strength. Deepening wrinkles, graying hairs, and weakening bones will all serve to remind us that this is not our true tent. Business lost, money made and spent, houses built and torn down all stand as a blare horn for our hardened and arrogant hearts. Come, be humbled at your humanness, and live. 

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10 Truths About the Holy Spirit from Romans 8

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

Romans 8 is a favorite chapter of the Bible among Christians, and for good reason. It is encouraging, memorable, and oh-so-quotable.

But because it is so beloved, it is easy to lose the main ideas of the chapter among the glorious promises. To be specific, what would you say Romans 8 is all about?

The Frequency of the Spirit

When we start to observe the text of Romans 8, one phrase jumps out. The Holy Spirit is all over this chapter!

A quick count reveals that the word “spirit” appears 22 times in Romans 8. This is the most that word appears in any chapter of the English Bible! (I made these counts and comparisons using the ESV.) This was unexpected for me, because I don’t often see people reach for this chapter to teach about the Holy Spirit.

Is the Holy Spirit the main subject of Romans 8? In my friend Peter’s post on Romans 8:28, he provided an outline of much of this chapter, so I won’t repeat it here. Even if the Spirit is not at the center of this chapter, he is indispensable to its main ideas.

What Can We Learn About the Spirit?

I thought it might be instructive to exercise our observation and interpretation muscles in a brief look at Romans 8. While focusing mostly on the occurrences of the word “Spirit” in this chapter, I’ll list some truths that are relatively straightforward from the text.

  1. The Spirit is the “Spirit of life.” In contrast to the “law of sin and death,” which condemns, the Spirit’s law sets us “free in Christ Jesus” (Rom 8:2).
  2. The Spirit is opposed to “the flesh.” Christians walk according to the Spirit, not the flesh. They live according to the Spirit and set their minds on the things of the Spirit instead of living according to or setting their minds on the things of the flesh. The flesh brings death, but the Spirit brings “life and peace” (Rom 8:4–6).
  3. Those with the Spirit belong to God. Those with the Spirit are “in the Spirit.” Without the Spirit of Christ you do not belong to God. Having the “Spirit of Christ” and having Christ in you appear to be the same thing (Rom 8:9–10).
  4. Those with the Spirit will rise from the dead. If you have the Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead, that same Spirit will give you the same result (Rom 8:11).
  5. We need the Spirit to “put to death the deeds of the body.” The parallel structure of Romans 8:13 also implies that putting deeds to death by the Spirit is what it means to live according to the Spirit.
  6. All who are led by God’s Spirit are God’s children (Rom 8:14). Part of what it means to have God’s Spirit (Rom 8:9) is to be led by God’s Spirit.
  7. The Spirit we have received is the “Spirit of adoption.” This Spirit is contrasted with a spirit of slavery which leads to fear; the Spirit of adoption produces affectionate cries (“Abba!”) to our Father (Rom 8:15).
  8. The Spirit testifies that we are God’s children. The Spirit “bears witness” along with our spirits that we are children of God. And as children, we are “heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ” (Rom 8:16–17).
  9. We have the first fruits of the Spirit. Having the Spirit in this way causes us to groan inwardly along with the creation, as we await our adoption as children of God (Rom 8:23).
  10. The Spirit intercedes for us. In our weakness, we don’t know how to pray as we should. But the Spirit helps us, praying with groans that are too deep for words. Because the Father knows the mind of the Spirit, he receives what is in our hearts (Rom 8:26–27).

Observation Leading to Understanding

Observation is necessary but not sufficient for understanding the Bible. It is a means, not an end. Observing the Bible is like gathering sticks for a fire: Without the wood, there’s nothing to burn; but the sticks themselves produce neither heat nor light.

But these observations and interpretations about the Holy Spirit help us toward the main point of Romans 8. We see how the Spirit marks and indwells God’s people, identifying them as his beloved children. This relationship with God produces suffering with our fellow heir (Jesus), but glory with him as well.

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The Grace of Thinking Soberly

Posted onAuthorClifford Lester

I recently attended the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in America, our church’s denomination. General Assembly—or GA for short—is the annual gathering of church leaders, elders, and representatives of the PCA, along with their families and guests. This year, there were over 2,400 Commissioners, the Teaching and Ruling Elders who handle the business of the PCA.

For the second year, I was privileged to attend GA as one of those Commissioners. There is a joy (some might call it a twisted joy!) in listening to the various reports, being a part of the discussions, hearing both sides of an argument, and operating within the polity and practice of the PCA. However, for a rookie like me, GA can feel overwhelming. The decorum that brings joy can also be challenging. The opinions in my head do not always come out in thoughtful, well-spoken ways. Simply put, it’s easy to feel like a small fish in a big sea.

Thinking Soberly

In Romans 12:3-8 Paul writes:

3 For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. 4 For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, 5 so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. 6 Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; 7 if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; 8 the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.

Paul’s primary concern is that everyone should not think of himself (or herself) more highly than he ought. This is for good reason, because we all struggle with pride in one way or another. We struggle with self-importance, self-sufficiency, self-promotion, and more. (I’ll note that all of those are about me and myself.)

Then Paul says that we need to “think with sober judgment” about ourselves. This includes the aforementioned caution of thinking too highly of ourselves. But, it also includes the opposite: thinking too lowly of ourselves. We may think we have nothing to offer God’s people or we struggle with anxiety about how our work within the church could fail. Maybe we compare ourselves to others, thinking we could never measure up to the standard they possess.

Paul reminds the Romans, and through Scripture he reminds us, that God has assigned us all a measure of faith and he has gifted us all in different ways and we should use those gifts! We are all part of the body and within that body, one man’s “eye” is as valuable as one woman’s “ear” and those are as valuable as my “big toe.” My gifting might seem insubstantial, but thinking soberly means understanding that, without my “big toe” the body would walk slower and be off-balance and unstable.

Back to GA

I enjoy GA and, at times, I feel like a sponge soaking everything up. But then I see some of the older, respected guys and feel inadequate. Perhaps the day will come, Lord willing, when I will know the Book of Church Order front to back and understand the church’s polity, but today is not that day!

But I’m on equal ground here, inexplicably. I was called and sent to serve and represent WPCA at General Assembly and I trust that I’m using my gifts for the building up of the body, both locally and denominationally. That provides motivation to serve well now and to strive to grow in order to better serve in the future. Because serving well means thinking soberly about who I am in Christ as I seek to serve the body for the glory of God.

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Efficiency is Not the Path to Blessing

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

The sales pitch of much new technology boils down to increased efficiency. If we buy their sprockets, we’ll be able to do things faster, with less friction.

For some new technologies, this is a wonderful development. I try to remember to thank God every time I use our washing machine.

And yet, efficiency is only one measurement. Tech companies aim to convince us it’s the only measurement that matters, but we need to be wiser than that.

So much of a Christian’s life is not efficient, likely by God’s design. If we swallow the lie that efficiency is the goal, we’ll abandon or minimize many good and necessary parts of following Jesus.

Worship

It would be hard to describe the weekly Christian gathering as efficient. There’s time before the service—getting a bulletin, finding a seat, chatting—which isn’t explicitly worship. There are donuts and coffee afterward. An organizational design expert would gladly charge Christians a large sum to redesign our buildings and programs to increase their efficiency.

Private worship bears the same marks. Is prayer efficient? Is reading and studying the Bible an economic use of our time? Probably not. But, as Tim Challies recently pointed out, sanctification has no shortcuts.

But once again, what if the struggle is key to the purpose? What if prayer isn’t meant to be easy, and what if its difficulty accomplishes something meaningful inside of us? What if the process of correctly interpreting the Bible and faithfully applying it is a means God uses to form his people?

When God calls us to worship, he calls for our attention. He calls us to slow down and interact with him. This cannot be sped up or optimized.

Relationships

Building friendships takes time. Some interactions (like service projects and trips together) seem to speed this up, but I think that’s mostly a mirage. Close relationships and tight-knit communities develop over years, not days or weeks.

Serving others rarely happens in a snap. Listening to a friend, offering them counsel, and praying with them can’t be accomplished quickly. If we prioritize efficiency when caring for and loving others, we’ve got everything mixed up. One of the most valuable things we give when we serve others is our time, and this cannot be outsourced or played at 1.5 speed.

Character Formation

We cannot take a pill to be more joyful, and no LLM will be able to make us more gentle or kind. The fruit of the Spirit are called “fruit” at least in part because they grow—like fruit! That is to say, not quickly! Patience is one of these virtues, after all (Gal 5:22-23).

When the Bible speaks of character growth, one bit of fertilizer that is often mentioned is suffering (Rom 5:3–5). And though suffering helps to refine and change us, we’re also not told to seek it out. And, as anyone who has suffered can tell you, suffering is not accomplished quickly.

What’s the Highest Good?

I’m not against efficiency, and I’m certainly not against technology. I am concerned to see some Christians use efficiency and only efficiency as the criteria for whether to adopt a technology or to engage in a practice.

Further, our choices of technology are not neutral. As David I. Smith has written (in the context of AI document summaries), technology disciples us. We are trained and conditioned by the tools we use both to learn and to forget information and skills. Evaluating options based only on speed or output seems like jumping into an ocean of foolishness.

We serve a God who we must admit has not always been efficient. The life of Jesus itself bears this out. And, as those redeemed by God, we are called to much more than economic and productive uses of our time.

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Time Outside of Our Hands

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

Final exams have been marked and course grades submitted. Graduation has come and gone, along with the mad rush of landscaping, picture taking, and moving out of dorm rooms.

For me, I have a few more end-of-year reports to write until I will be firmly in Summer Time.

This is a nice thing about being a college professor—our schedules and duties are usually obvious. We know when to prepare syllabi and course material; we know when common exams and paper deadlines fall during the semester; we know when the end-of-term chaos begins and ends.

Many jobs have predictable rhythms like this. But if we zoom out a bit, knowing the times and seasons of our lives is not always so obvious.

A Season For Everything

Ecclesiastes 3 opens with the most well-known portion of this little-read book. The Byrds made Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 popular with their 1965 hit Turn, Turn, Turn. This song has tremendous cultural staying power in spite of lyrics which are mostly just Scripture.

But while the Byrds turned this passage into a peace song, this biblical poem does much more. Yes, there really is a time for everything (Eccl 3:1). The opposites that pepper these verses indicate that there is a time for each of those extremes as well as the whole range of options in between.

By the end of this passage, we’re left with two questions. Who controls these seasons? How do we know when our seasons are changing?

The Limits of Time

As the Preacher transitions from poetry to prose, he writes about how man interacts with God regarding time. Though the worker has no gain from his toil (Eccl 3:9, compare with 2:22) and the business God has given man is unpleasant (Eccl 3:10, compare with 1:13), everything is beautiful in its time (Eccl 3:11).

God has put eternity into man’s heart, so that he would be curious and long for the infinite (Eccl 3:11). Man wants to know like God knows and to understand like God understands. But man is not God and does not have the capacity for the same knowledge. This explains our questioning hearts—in seasons of suffering, grief, and confusion we desperately want to know why. We often demand the understanding that comes from knowing the whole and how all the parts interact.

We want what is not ours to have. We want what is God’s alone.

Though man does not know God’s times, there is pleasure to be had in his own time. There is nothing better for man than to be joyful and do good as long as they live. (Note that man’s finiteness is once again in view when the Preacher describes this good.) God’s gift to man is that he should take pleasure in all his toil on earth.

Outside of Time

Man has the limitation of time and death, but God experiences no such limits. (This makes the incarnation of Jesus that much more glorious and breathtaking.)

What God does endures forever (Eccl 3:14). This is in stark contrast to the works of man which will pass away, be forgotten, or both. God has designed this permanence to point to himself, that we might fear him (Eccl 3:14).

Time For Judgment

Not only is man limited in what he can understand and in the longevity and importance of his works, but he makes a terrible judge. Currently, there is wickedness in the places of justice and righteousness (Eccl 3:16).

The Preacher then points to a category absent from the poem which opened this chapter: there is a time for judgment. Notably, for some this will occur outside of the “times” which we can comprehend as part of our lives. God will judge the righteous and the wicked (Eccl 3:17).

If you’re tempted to feel smug as one of the “righteous” when reading that last sentence, here’s a preview of things to come in Ecclesiastes: “Surely there is not a righteous man on earth who does good and never sins” (Eccl 7:20). Without a Savior, we would warrant the judgment of the wicked after death.

Man’s time will end—with regard to longevity, man is no different than a beast—we all die and return to the dust of our origins (Eccl 3:18–21). The Preacher stresses that man has no advantage over the beasts in this regard.

However, this limitation can bring joy. In an echo of verses 12-13, there is nothing better than for a man to rejoice in his work. After all, he cannot know what comes after him (Eccl 3:22).

Joy in Our Time

Time is one of the defining features of our lives. We are beholden to our clocks, the hours of daylight, and the fluctuations of the weather throughout the year. For something so essential to our existence, we have so little control.

By the end of chapter 3, the questions suggested by the poem (verses 1–8) have clear answers. God controls the times, he is the one in charge of our seasons.

One of the themes running through Ecclesiastes is that joy is found in living within (rather than fighting against) our human limitations. While there is no ultimate gain for us from our toil, there is a joy to be found when we recognize food, drink, and everything else as a gift from God.

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Work: For Legacy or Joy?

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

The Preacher of Ecclesiastes uses the word “toil” in ways that sound like more than “job” or “career” or “thing I do for income.” He seems to use this word more broadly to mean what we put our energy toward in this world.

On this topic, the end of Ecclesiastes 2 focuses on a pointed question: Why do we toil? In answering this question, he, unsurprisingly, identifies one reason that is “vanity” and one that is “from the hand of God.”

His Days Are Full of Sorrow

The Preacher hated his toil because he would eventually have to leave the fruit of it to others. Yes, the finiteness of life plays a major role in how the Preacher thinks about about work in addition to wisdom.

There are two main problems with leaving life’s work to another, according to the Preacher. First, we don’t know whether our successor will be wise or a fool (Eccl 2:19). This ambiguity can be maddening, since this person will be the “master” of all for which we toiled. Additionally, there is the sheer vanity of someone coming after us who will enjoy what they did not work for (Eccl 2:21). The Preacher labels this not only as “vanity” but “a great evil” (Eccl 2:21).

This meditation on work provokes harsh words from the Preacher! He “hated all his toil,” and he gave his “heart up to despair;” a man’s return for his toil is days which are “full of sorrow” with work “a vexation” such that “in the night his heart does not rest” (Eccl 2:18–23).

When the Preacher asks what a man has to gain from all his toil (Eccl 2:22), the clear answer is: nothing.

Enjoyment From the Hand of God

And yet, there is another, better perspective on work the Preacher has to offer.

There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment? (Ecclesiastes 2:24-25)

Ideally, we will find “enjoyment” in our toil. God gives this as a gift, as there is no enjoyment in toil apart from the Almighty.

In reading Ecclesiastes, I’ve found a helpful framing from David Gibson: gain or gift? This framing helps me understand what the Preacher is up to at the end of this chapter when he seems to talk about work in two different ways.

When we work for gain—that is, when we work to be remembered or with a fixation on what will become of our work—we are striving after wind. This is misguided and foolish, since we will be forgotten (Eccl 2:16) and our work will pass to others. However, when we see work as a gift from God, we can begin to enjoy it.

Like so many other aspects of life, the key to joy in Ecclesiastes is receiving each role or activity from God. We honor God best (and thus enjoy life most) when we treat each area of life in the way that God intended. We will not live forever, and our work will not live forever; accepting and embracing these truths opens up the path toward enjoying our work now.

Pleasing God

The Preacher ends this discourse on work with a caveat. God does not give everyone joy in their work.

For to the one who pleases him God has given wisdom and knowledge and joy, but to the sinner he has given the business of gathering and collecting, only to give to one who pleases God. This also is vanity and a striving after wind. (Ecclesiastes 2:26)

God only gives wisdom and knowledge and joy to those who please him. The sinner gets something quite different.

This raises a natural question: who is it that pleases God? For the original audience listening to Ecclesiastes, the answer would have been clear: those who love God and keep his law please him.

So, if you feel frustration in your work, if you would like to find more joy in what you give your energy to in this world, the Preacher would direct your attention to your obedience to God’s law. And if you find yourself not quite measuring up to the standard of God’s law, join the club.

Jesus became man and lived in perfect accord with all of God’s righteous rules. The good news of the gospel means that Jesus’s obedience is credited to all those who trust in him. God is pleased with those who put their faith in Jesus.

These frustrations that the Preacher unearths are universal. They point to a planet which is cursed and discordant. And yet, the Bible testifies that there is a Savior given to the world as well.

The humble posture of the believer is to confess our sins and receive the Savior. The Preacher’s teaching on receiving one’s work as a gift points those with ears to hear in this same direction.

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Wisdom Drained of Power

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

When was the last time you walked through a cemetery? Such a stroll may seem dismal, but it’s quite good for your soul. Modern humans, especially the young, can talk themselves into immortality if they’re not careful.

If you visit a cemetery, you’ll probably find the newer graves in one area and the older graves in another. Pay attention to that older area. Notice the headstones, the names and dates carved along with a few words carefully chosen as an everlasting benediction.

The thing is, headstones don’t last. From the perspective of decades, it doesn’t take long before the carved words wear down and the stone itself starts to sink and crumble. You probably don’t know the people in these old graves, and now you can’t even read their names.

You Will Die

In Ecclesiastes 2, the Preacher takes on several investigations, starting with pleasure and turning to wisdom (Eccl 2:12). He somewhat predictably finds that there is “more gain in wisdom than in folly,” but the conclusion he reaches may be surprising: “the wise dies just like the fool” (Eccl 2:13,16).

Since “the same event” (death) happens to everyone—both the foolish and the wise—the Preacher wonders why he has tried to live according to wisdom. It is absurd that the sage and the fool both die in the same way (Eccl 2:14-15).

The Preacher was grappling with a profound and difficult lesson: Wisdom cannot protect us from death.

Those familiar with the Bible will sense a dissonance here that I believe is intentional. After all, in the book of Proverbs, Solomon extols the value of wisdom (see Proverbs 2) and urges his son (and his readers) to pursue and not abandon wisdom (Proverbs 4:1–9).

Perhaps we can feel the frustration voiced by the Preacher. Wisdom has great value in this life. But this life is so short! Is wisdom that valuable if everyone ends up with the same washed-out gravestone?

You Will Be Forgotten

In his investigation of wisdom, the Preacher lands on a second truth as difficult as our own mortality. Both the wise and the foolish die alike, and neither one is remembered.

For of the wise as of the fool there is no enduring remembrance, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten. How the wise dies just like the fool! So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind. (Ecclesiastes 2:16-17)

Not many of us meditate on our mortality. But even those who do probably think the good they do in the world might outlast them. The businesses, organizations, causes, places, and people we pour our lives into—surely these will be remembered, right?

Sadly, and simply, no. They won’t, and you won’t. Not in the long run.

You might not need convincing of this, but here’s another illustration. I know the first names of all four of my grandparents, and if you pressed me on it I could probably come up with the grandparent-names my parents used for their grandparents (my great-grandparents). But I don’t know any of their first names, and I barely know anything about them. That’s just three generations! And because I know so little about my great-grandparents, my children know nothing about them. I’m tied at the top of the list of people in the world most likely to remember those eight people, and I don’t even know their names, much less their passions or accomplishments.

Exposing Misplaced Hopes

Ecclesiastes exposes our misplaced hopes in a methodical, direct way. Do you think you might find some lasting significance from pleasure? From wisdom? From work? No, no, and no.

Everyone dies. You might be remembered for a few years, but it won’t be that many. Your name will blow away from the mind of the world like a feather on the wind.

What do we do with this stiff, cold breeze from the Bible? Were you hoping for something more encouraging or slogan-friendly from the Holy Scriptures?

Ecclesiastes takes a little while to resolve this tension, but we eventually get there. The Preacher gives this counsel: fear God and keep his commandments (Eccl 12:13).

That conclusion may not sound as uplifting as we’d like, but when we arrive there I suspect we’ll see how joyful and full of hope that exhortation is.

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Why We Reread the Bible

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

The Bible is not like other books. When we finish a novel or biography, we put it down and pick up something new. But many Christians complete a Bible reading and start right in again. For those new to the faith, this may seem strange.

Because frequent rereading of the Bible is not an obvious activity, I thought it might be helpful to highlight some of the reasons Christians never really finish reading the Scriptures.

The Bible is a Singular Book

Christians believe that the Bible is God’s Word, that God himself inspired what we read on those pages. This gives the Bible an authority and status unequal to any other book.

While this by itself does not imply we should reread the Bible, it does mean it’s no surprise if we treat it differently than other volumes on our shelves.

We Need to Keep Learning

The Bible gives us instruction, correction, comfort, and hope. This is the infinite, eternal God’s primary revelation of himself, and we finite, fallen humans don’t understand everything about God the first or second or tenth time we read it. Given our limitations and our nature, we will never have perfect knowledge of God in these imperfect bodies.

Because the Holy Spirit illuminates the Bible for us and gives us understanding, rereading the Bible can sometimes feel like reading a completely different book. I’ve talked to many Christians who admit to reading a passage dozens of times—over decades of their lives—before grasping something profound that now seems obvious.

We Forget

The Bible is a long book, containing truths both profound and difficult. Our frail minds do not easily hold all of these truths for long periods of time, especially when only exposed to them once.

We forget who God is and what he has done because we are weak and limited. We also forget God’s word because in our corruption we do not hold tightly to stories that emphasize our dependence and guilt. This is especially true when our lives are comfortable. (See the relevant warning to Israel in Dt 8:11–20.)

Because we easily forget God, we reread his word to remember.

We Are Commanded

Keeping the holy teachings about God top of mind is not just a recommended Christian activity. God commands it!

We are to “let the word of Christ dwell in [us] richly” (Col 3:16). Because we are forgetful, it’s hard to imagine obedience to this command without rereading.

Jesus says that part of the way we abide in him is to let his words abide in us (John 15:7). The words of Christ take up residence with us when we revisit them frequently.

To Grow in Love

Reading (and rereading) the Bible is not an end in itself. There is no heavenly trophy for most times reading the Bible.

We are getting to know a person—God—not a textbook. And we must hold tight to the gospel truths that fuel our love of our neighbors.

We read because we are loved by God. And because God loves us, we read so that we might love him and love our neighbors.

And until we love perfectly, we reread.

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Good Stewards of God’s Grace

Posted onAuthorMeghan Watt

“As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies—in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.” 1 Peter 4:10-11

Scripture pulls no punches: not if each has received a gift, but as each has received a gift. The purpose is serving one another through God’s abundant generosity. God keeps things simple for us. So, why do we wonder what we’re supposed to do, how much we’re supposed to do, and often miss the point while we’re doing it? 

Most of us feel tired. We’re stretched with careers, growing children, ailing bodies, and demanding class schedules. What can tired people do when the needs are high all around them? There is discernment and direction for us in God’s word. We are to walk in the ways Jesus walked (1 Jo 2:6) and seek to understand his will for the time, resources, energy and capacity he’s given us (Eph 5:15-16). The good news is that we can do so without overwhelm, guilt, or burnout if we quietly listen to where he’s calling us to go. I’ve outlined just three basic responses below.

Look to Christ

High needs, right hand is a motto that has rung in my ears for the past several months. On a rainy Monday morning, I was busy doing laundry while muttering prayers. I had just realized there was a trail of paper scraps through the study, and I could faintly hear two brothers bickering from the upstairs hallway. My daughter had just come in to ask me a math question while the timer beeped (again) on an overdone egg-bake in the oven. Above all the small neediness of the household, I had my own internal needs that felt pressing. My soul needed comfort from God in a stressful situation, and my emotions felt raw. 

In that season, I was reading through Romans and had just paused in chapter 8. Verse 34 wafted back to me like a fresh spring breeze that lifted the fog

Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.

High needs, right hand. 

We can stagger when there are so many voices jockeying for our attention. But the first and most important thing we can do is look to Christ. He is at the right hand of the Father right now. Condescending to us and interceding for us right now. Who better, then, to ask for direction and insight? Who better to prioritize our to-do lists and alleviate our guilt? Who better to show us how to live, serve, and die? 

The gospel transforms our spiritual gift perspective by reminding us that it’s not about us and what we can do—it’s about Jesus and what he has done. We don’t answer the call to serve working toward approval but rather working from approval—our approval is secure and unshakable in Christ. There are high needs all around us, and each of them has a legitimate pull for our attention. When we look to Christ, we marvel at the way he walked, the life he calls us to live, the death he died, and the beauty of his presence with us all our days. The flustered feelings of not doing or being enough find their place in the dust among the rubble of our insecurity and pride. Only then are we free to speak with his wisdom, discern what pleases him, and receive the strength he supplies. We work our fingers to the bone out of gratitude and humble love for his people, for we are merely responders to his mercy.   

Involve Your Leadership

As you look to Christ, you can rest in the providential care of the leadership God has placed over you. If you have a husband, ask where he sees your gifts being best used. If you’re in a conversation with a deacon, ask how your natural talents and abilities can help with physical needs of the church. Seek counsel from your elders about where they see gaps in the local body that your spiritual gifts might fill. Open yourself up to wisdom from brothers and sisters in your church. Tune your ear for echoes from the church announcements or bulletin. Study the people God has put in front of you. In our American context, we prize individuality. However, when we look to Scripture, giftings are much more communal. Peter reminds us, it’s been given that you might give. Involving someone else in something we’ve made so personal can be unnerving. We may have convinced ourselves that we’re gifted in an area that we’re not. We might cringe at the actual need of the church compared to the exciting thing we thought we could offer. A chaotic season of life may mean we need to heed counsel to pull back for a time. In humility, we must listen to the wisdom of the leadership over us.

Do the Next Thing

Have you ever wondered why spiritual gift tests are such a draw for Christians? Like some kind of alternative to personality assessments, we flock to these formulas to tell us where we fit within the body and where we are weak. They can be helpful when the results are used correctly and held loosely. Worst case scenario: we note our frail areas and excuse our lack of serving while boasting about our strengths. Best case scenario: we take seriously 1 Peter 4 and get to work. 

A good amount of our fretting over which way to walk is cured by just taking the first step. One of my favorite authors, Elizabeth Elliot, quipped:

When you don’t know what to do, do the thing in front of you.

“There are a million things in front of me!”, you might protest. Great—pick one. The question is not, who am I and what do I have? The question is, what grace have I experienced, and how does that serve others well? We don’t need to spend our time lamenting the gifts we weren’t given, nor are we permitted to envy the gift another has. We are called to get busy doing what’s been laid in our path with what he’s given us. Sometimes, our over-analytical approach to how we should serve within our local church is nothing more than a glorified roadblock to obedience.

In the Strength God Supplies

God often calls us to spaces where we feel our weakness more than we feel our strength. Remember, he is in the business of making shaky things solid by his strong arm. When we only gravitate toward serving in an area in which we feel totally comfortable and refuse to meet any need outside that range, we miss out on the comfort God gives his people when they rely on him. I’m not advocating that you grab a mic if you’re tone deaf or help balance the church budget if you struggle with basic math. However, we are a gullible people who can easily cite reasons for not relying on the strength God supplies. 

Maybe serving one another isn’t as daunting as we’ve made it. The simplicity of the gospel should fuel our posture toward one another in a way that is natural, even if it’s hard. Let’s commit to asking ourselves how Christ might be exalted through our going low and serving in unseen places. How might it please God to do a mighty work, by the power of his Spirit, in ordinary and busy people like us? 

In order that in everything, God may be glorified through Jesus Christ.

Don’t be deceived: this little corner of Washington will echo into eternity. Christ is Lord, and all gifts, all talents, all time, all resources are his. 

To Him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.

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