Ecclesiastes 7 might be the hardest chapter in the book so far. For six chapters, the Teacher has been building trust with us, offering observations that, however cynical or dry, generally line up with the rest of Scripture. Then we hit chapter 7, and Qohelet seems to lose it. This chapter is part cynicism, part anger, part protest, part lament. It's the sound of a weary heart finally boiling over. Before we dig in, one reading principle matters more here than almost anywhere

Ecclesiastes 7 is full of the real thing, ironic observations about how life is supposed to work and how it actually works. The Teacher has just asked, at the end of chapter 6, "Who knows what is good for anyone in life?" Chapter 7 is his attempt at an answer, built from a lifetime of watching the wisdom he inherited from his elders collide with reality.

Everyone loves hearing a sermon about money, right? Hopefully this one will be different. This isn't a "you need to give more" message. If you're part of a generous church family like mine, that's not the problem. This is about something deeper: what money does to us, and how we find freedom from it. What Capuchin Monkeys Taught Us About Money Back in 2005, researchers at Yale taught seven capuchin monkeys to use money. They gave the monkeys small metal discs that could be tr

No, lectio divina is not a spell from Harry Potter. It's Latin for "divine (or sacred) reading". It's a way of reading a section of Scripture in order to truly listen. We often read our Bibles as part of a daily reading plan – which is great – or as part of a time of study. Lectio divina is not about learning information but inviting transformation. It's not just reading to check it off your to-do list; it's about checking in with your heart and soul. One commentator describe

There's a saying in our culture: "Not my circus, not my monkeys." It's a helpful reminder that we aren't the authority in every situation. If someone else's kids are acting up, it's not my job to discipline them. If store employees aren't doing their jobs, it's not up to me to manage them, since I'm not their boss. If there's small-town drama I'm not part of, I might grab the popcorn, but I won't interfere. Not my circus, not my monkeys. But what if it is my circus? What if t

The Teacher looks at two options and tells us which one wins. And by the end of the chapter, those four observations add up to something much bigger: a diagnosis of exactly how a society falls apart, and a map for how to walk it back.

There's an instinctual drive in all of us to reach for something beyond ourselves. Across history and every inhabited continent, people have searched for the eternal, the divine, the unseen force behind everything we experience. Everybody worships something. Greek Gods and Sack Lunches I've always had a fascination with religion. One of my all-time favorite Disney movies is Hercules. When my wife Katelyn and I studied abroad in Greece during college, we had to learn the Greek

I have a riddle for you, straight from Tolkien's "The Hobbit," the chapter called Riddles in the Dark. It's the last one Gollum poses to Bilbo: This thing all things devours: birds, beasts, trees, flowers. Gnaws iron, bites steel, grinds hard stones to meal. Slays kings, ruins towns, and beats high mountains down. You probably already shouted the answer: time. We're continuing our series in Ecclesiastes, and Ecclesiastes 3 is the great time poem of Scripture, the one that ins

If you visit my office, you'll notice something about me pretty quickly. I'm a bit nostalgic, and I'm a big nerd. Combine those two facts and it makes sense why I surround myself with toys and memorabilia from my favorite childhood fandoms: Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Chronicles of Narnia, The Legend of Zelda, and more. Many of us do something similar. For you it might not be sci-fi, fantasy, and video games. It might be reminders of the sports teams you grew

If you've ever felt like you're grinding your gears just to stay in place, you're in good company. The Teacher of Ecclesiastes, the one who calls himself Qohelet, "one who gathers," went looking for an answer to one big question: what does a person actually gain for all the work they do under the sun? In Ecclesiastes 1:12 through 2:26, he sets out to test that question for himself. Not in theory, but in practice. He goes on what I'd call an unfulfilling journey through three

Have you ever been handed a job, given all the right supplies, and still had no idea what you were doing? When I was in middle school and high school, I attended a private Christian school in Tennessee. Every summer, the school offered "work study" hours for students, matching them with various jobs around campus. Some worked in the preschool or elementary daycare. Others stayed inside to clean offices or file papers. My job was mostly outside. We ran weed eaters, cleared the

Tell someone you're preaching through Ecclesiastes, and you'll usually get the same response: "Oh, that's a downer." Fair enough. But it's also not that simple. Here's what I've come to see in this strange little book: where you stand determines what you see. Ecclesiastes is almost a mirror. If you're wired toward pessimism, the eternal Debbie Downer, you'll find plenty here to confirm it. If you're wired toward optimism, always looking for the silver lining, you'll find that