"Consider the work of God: who can make straight what he has made crooked?" so that man may not find out anything that will come after him (a paraphrase of Ecclesiastes 7:13–14).

This is a hard passage, for it asserts that God is the author of both prosperity and adversity. Both are the work of God, which a person cannot know beforehand or alter.

Joy in prosperity is natural, but what about despair in adversity? Should a person praise God for the one and curse God for the other? Job answered this question: "Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?" (Job 2:10). When Job faced adversity, he declared, "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be his name" (Job 1:21).

Friends, let us acknowledge that God is sovereign. He does as He pleases. He appoints both prosperity and adversity. Yet this is no reason for despair when we consider that He works everything together for our ultimate good (Romans 8:28). Is it not better that God rules over adversity as well as good? If only the latter, how could we have a sure hope? Because He rules over both, and because He is good, we can have confidence in hope, for He has made everlasting promises to us and nothing in any universe can alter or nullify them. Praise God!

So I rejoice today in both prosperity and adversity, in ease and hardship, in gain and in loss. For I know whom I have believed, and He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him until that day (2 Timothy 1:12).

AI-Expanded Reflection

Ecclesiastes 7:14 contains a purpose clause that is easy to miss: God has made both the day of prosperity and the day of adversity "so that man may not find out anything that will be after him." Part of God's design in mixing our days is to keep us from predicting or controlling the future — and therefore to keep us dependent. The Preacher's counsel is not resignation but appropriate response: be joyful in good days, and consider in hard ones.

Christians have understood God's relationship to adversity carefully. Scripture affirms that nothing falls outside God's rule (Isaiah 45:7; Lamentations 3:37–38; Amos 3:6) while also insisting that God is not the author of evil and tempts no one (James 1:13; 1 John 1:5). Theologians describe this as God ordaining or permitting what He then overrules for good, as with Joseph's brothers (Genesis 50:20) and the cross (Acts 2:23). The comment's practical conclusion is the one Scripture draws: because God rules over both good days and hard ones, our hope has a foundation that circumstances cannot shake.

If you see oppression of the poor and the violation of justice and righteousness in a province, do not be amazed at the matter, for the high official is watched by a higher, and there are yet higher ones over them; but this is an advantage to a land: a king committed to cultivated fields (a paraphrase of Ecclesiastes 5:8–9).

Most versions give a somewhat confusing translation of these verses, and commentators who follow them give even more confusing explanations. The version that seems to me to make the best sense in the context of the passage and the book is the New Living Translation, which says, in essence, that we should not be surprised to see the poor oppressed and justice miscarried, because every official is under orders from higher up and matters get lost in bureaucracy — and even the king milks the land for his own profit.

As he does throughout Ecclesiastes, Solomon is not being politically correct. He is neither partisan nor bipartisan, but explaining the nature of human beings and of power. The passage is somewhat captured by Lord Acton's dictum, "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." Selfish envy is human nature, and oppression and injustice simply reflect the stronger seeking gain from the weaker. Over those who oppress, there are always others waiting to take the advantage from them, and even the king seeks his own advantage.

To state Solomon's observation in the negative, he might say that while it should not surprise us to see people taking advantage of one another for personal gain, it would be very surprising to see anyone truly seeking the benefit of others. Selfishness is to be expected; selflessness is not. The latter takes real effort and runs against human nature. The former is consistent with fallen human nature.

Friends, when I look at our present government, I am dismayed by the corruption I see. If there is some redeeming good in a few, I don't know who they might be, for thick rhetoric, like an overabundance of molasses, drowns out discernment. Yet this passage in Ecclesiastes reminds me not to be surprised by the envy, political posturing, greed, and anything-goes approach to self-preservation among our politicians. It is human nature. It is also in mine, so that if I held a similar position of power, I might not be much different.

Therefore I find it right for us always to be humble. It is also right to point out wrongdoing and error, but let us acknowledge our own guilt and need for God's grace. Let us not be too shocked by our political leaders, who often reflect both our moral strengths and our weaknesses. They are only human, and in positions of authority their natural weaknesses are magnified by the power and influence they wield.

Do they cut corners to advance themselves or gain a greater benefit for family and friends? Are we innocent of this ourselves? Do they try to milk the system and work the network of relationships in government to preserve or increase their advantage? Wouldn't we be called astute if we could do the same? Do officials need to take costly vacations at public expense? No, but they can, and they do. Should lawmakers be paid several times what the average American earns while many Americans see their incomes cut? Perhaps not, but they can arrange it, and they do. And if we could, we might find ourselves doing the same.

Do I trust anyone in government? No, but to the extent that they make laws, I will follow them as long as they do not conflict with God's Word. That does not mean I will follow their example in leadership. For example, I will not put myself into great and irresponsible debt just because the government does. But I also will not cheat on my taxes, even though I know the money is going to politicians I consider corrupt and irresponsible. In other words, I will keep doing what is right before God. I will obey the laws and pray for our country's leaders (cf. 1 Timothy 2:1–2). But rather than using them as models for myself or my child, I will look to Jesus and, by God's grace, try to be the best model I can be for others.

People simply cannot be trusted to model true righteousness. That is why Solomon writes that, after all his searching, this alone he found: "God made man upright, but they have sought out many schemes" (Ecclesiastes 7:29).

Therefore I would rather be a pointer than a model. I would say, as Paul did, "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (1 Corinthians 11:1).

Likewise, after the great chapter on the Old Testament heroes of faith, the writer of Hebrews says that since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, we are to lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely and run with endurance the race set before us, "looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith" (a paraphrase of Hebrews 12:1–2).

While he points to a great cloud of witnesses from chapter 11, he nevertheless commands believers to fix their eyes on Jesus. All the witnesses of the previous chapter were flawed, but they all pointed to Jesus, because He alone is "the founder and perfecter of our faith."

So, friends, let us look to Jesus and point to Jesus. He is our true north, by which the compass of our lives will be rightly calibrated to God's will.

AI-Expanded Reflection

Ecclesiastes 5:8–9 is genuinely difficult in Hebrew, as the comment says, and translations differ mainly on verse 9. Some read it as a positive note — a king who cares for the cultivated land is an advantage to a country, which would make the verse a hopeful counterweight to the bureaucratic oppression of verse 8. Others read it cynically, as the NLT does, with the king himself profiting from the land. Both are possible; the book's refusal to resolve such tensions neatly is part of its character.

The comment's refusal to exempt itself — "if I held a similar position of power, I might not be much different" — echoes the book's own conclusion in 7:20: "Surely there is not a righteous man on earth who does good and never sins." It is also what keeps the comment's political frustration from becoming mere contempt. Paul, writing under Nero, told believers to pray for kings and all in authority, "that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life" (1 Timothy 2:1–2). Christians across the political spectrum can share the comment's resolve to obey just laws, pray for leaders, and look to Christ rather than to any politician as the model of righteousness.

Everything has already been decided. It was known long ago what each person would be. So there’s no use arguing with God about your destiny. (Ecclesiastes 6:10 NLT)

But I did find this: God created people to be virtuous, but they have each turned to follow their own downward path.” (Ecclesiastes 7:29 NLT)

These two verses paint the right perspective for us all. God has ordained WHAT we will be but not WHO we will be. Consider what Solomon writes in the Proverbs:

We can make our own plans, but the LORD gives the right answer. We can make our plans, but the LORD determines our steps. We may throw the dice, but the LORD determines how they fall. (Proverbs 16:1, 9, 33 NLT)

In other words, God has already ordained whether you will be rich or poor, whether you will be a king or a pauper, whether you will have one child or ten. But He has not ordered your heart. You can plan and plot and pursue this or that, for God has given this measure of "free will" to you. But you cannot control the outcome.

You cannot guarantee any success. You cannot ensure wealth. And you cannot ascertain your own salvation. God makes plans succeed. God makes work fruitful. God makes faith salvific.

It is the realm of wisdom to apply the best information based on what is known. Therefore, within the microcosm of human experience, it is better to use a sharpened axe rather than a dull one to chop down a tree. It is better not to put all your money in just one investment. It is better not to overreact when your boss treats you unfairly. Solomon discovered all such things in his search for wisdom in Ecclesiastes.

However, outside of this limited microcosm of human experience, since outcomes, whether they are in keeping with our plans and efforts or not, are the province of God, there is no surer footing or more secure endeavor than to fear God and keep His commandments, as we understand that ultimately everything will be judged by God.

This is Solomon's counsel to us. Enjoy, or at least accept, whatever lot you are given. In this fleeting life, you know that your end is the same as anyone else. You did not choose your lot. It was chosen for you. And you cannot ultimately change it. And even if you do, that too has been ordained. While you may not know what God has ordained your life to be, you at least know this: You, along with everyone else, are destined to die. And another thing you should know is this: God will judge your life, not the outcomes, whether you were rich or poor, but how you have feared Him and kept His commandments.

Therefore, if we are to take this to heart, we will not be so concerned about finding financial stability for ourselves and our families, growing our empires in this world, or trying to enjoy every pleasure this life has to offer. We will take our life situation in stride. We will eat when we are hungry, drink when we are thirsty. We will enjoy the income from our work, the profits from our investments. We will relish in family vacations and laugh with our friends.

But we will do all this with this perspective. Everything in this world is passing away. Every worldly outcome is meaningless because of it. Therefore, while we enjoy all these things as a gift from God, we will set our hearts to fear Him and obey His commandments in everything, knowing that in the final analysis, we will all be judged.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The original reflection identifies a tension running through Ecclesiastes: wisdom matters, yet wisdom does not give human beings control over life. A sharpened tool can improve work, prudent distribution can reduce exposure to loss, and a calm response can prevent escalation. Nevertheless, skill cannot secure every outcome or cancel mortality. The book challenges the desire to turn sound practice into a contract guaranteeing the future.

Ecclesiastes 6:10 emphasizes humanity's inability to contend successfully with one stronger than itself. Its language about what has already been named places human limitation within an order that precedes our decisions. The NET discussion of Ecclesiastes 6 helps show why this is a difficult verse whose translation involves interpretation. It should not carry an entire doctrine of providence by itself. Ecclesiastes 7:29, meanwhile, locates human crookedness in the schemes people pursue despite God's upright creation. Together the verses support humility and responsibility.

The distinction between what a person becomes and who a person chooses to be is a helpful pastoral attempt to preserve responsibility, but it should not be treated as Scripture's comprehensive boundary for divine action. Proverbs 21:1 speaks of a king's heart under the Lord's direction, while Proverbs 16:9 holds human planning and divine establishment together. Christian traditions differ over how these realities relate. The practical conclusion shared by the passages is stronger than a speculative division of jurisdiction: neither God's rule nor human limitation excuses deceit, indifference, or refusal to act wisely.

Ecclesiastes itself resists fatalism. In 11:6 the reader is urged to sow at different times precisely because the successful outcome is unknown. Uncertainty can call forth diligent action instead of paralysis. Likewise, acknowledging a present situation as one's lot need not mean refusing every effort to improve it. Seeking employment, relieving poverty, resisting exploitation, and caring for a family can all express faithfulness within providence rather than rebellion against it.

The statement about being unable to ascertain salvation also needs a distinction. No person can manufacture salvation through competence or make God a debtor through good performance. That does not mean believers must regard assurance as impossible. First John 5:13 explicitly states a purpose of helping believers know that they have eternal life. Assurance rests on God's testimony and promise, rather than mastery over life's outcomes.

Finally, transience does not make every earthly good morally worthless. Ecclesiastes repeatedly calls enjoyment a gift, even while denying its permanence. The faithful response is to work without imagining omnipotence, receive pleasure without demanding permanence, and obey without measuring obedience solely by visible success. God's judgment gives weight to conduct that the world's measures of income, status, and control can overlook.

Ecclesiastes 8:16–17 captures one of Solomon's central arguments: even applying his heart to understand wisdom and observe the labor done on earth, seeing no sleep day or night, he still couldn't grasp the full work of God under the sun — no matter how hard a person labors to discover it, or how wise they are, they won't be able to find it out (a paraphrase of Ecclesiastes 8:16–17). Solomon sought the meaning of life under the sun and couldn't find it — not even the wisest of men could. His foregone conclusion: everything under the sun is meaningless. His application for readers is that we shouldn't work so hard trying to find meaning in earthly life alone. The contrast is what's above the sun — namely, God. There's only real meaning in Him and His purposes; even where earthly things appear meaningful, Ecclesiastes proves that appearance isn't reality. When Asaph, the Temple's praise director, was troubled by the earthly prosperity of the wicked, he found consolation in God's house once he perceived their coming disastrous end (see Psalm 73). In the New Testament, Jesus taught that it was foolish to store up treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and thieves break in and steal, and counseled storing treasure in heaven instead, where it's truly safe (a paraphrase of Matthew 6:19–20). John argued that the things of this world are passing away, but whoever does God's will lives forever (a paraphrase of 1 John 2:17). Jesus also taught that people shouldn't be anxious about this life, but should seek what pertains to God's kingdom and righteousness instead (a reference to Matthew 6:33). Paul could have written a one-line summary of Ecclesiastes with his words in 1 Timothy 6:6: "godliness with contentment is great gain." So Solomon concludes the whole book: now that everything has been heard, here's the conclusion of the matter — fear God and keep His commandments, since this is the whole duty of every human being, for God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether good or evil (a paraphrase of Ecclesiastes 12:13–14). The prophet Micah says nearly the same thing: God has shown all of us what's good — to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God (a paraphrase of Micah 6:8). The instruction is simple: always do the right thing; when there's a choice, prefer mercy over judgment; and always stay in fellowship with God through humble obedience. Solomon would likely give that his hearty "Amen."

AI-Expanded Reflection

The parallel this comment draws between Ecclesiastes' conclusion and Micah's summary of what God requires is worth extending, since both texts arrive at remarkably compact answers after very different journeys — Ecclesiastes gets there after an exhausting search through pleasure, wealth, achievement, and wisdom itself, while Micah's audience gets there through a courtroom-style indictment for empty religious ritual (Micah 6:6–8). That two such different starting points converge on the same basic answer — fear God, act justly, walk humbly — suggests this isn't merely one wisdom teacher's personal conclusion, but something Scripture treats as a genuinely stable, load-bearing truth: however a person arrives at the question of what ultimately matters, the honest answer keeps turning out to be the same.

Yujin, can you go over Ecclesiastes 5:2? I've heard that I can, and should, go to God about everything — but this passage seems to say to bring Him as little as possible.

Yujin responds... Great question, Fernando! Looking at the immediate context, Solomon also addresses the fool who makes rash vows to God (cf. Ecclesiastes 5:4–6). God takes seriously what people pray to Him, so foolish vows made but not kept will be judged. Jesus taught it's better not to make the vow at all in the first place (cf. Matthew 5:34–37).

While we can, and should, bring everything to God (cf. Philippians 4:6–8; 1 Thessalonians 5:17), we also need to understand we'll be held accountable for everything we say. Jesus taught that people will give an account on the day of judgment for every careless word spoken, since our words will either acquit or condemn us (a paraphrase of Matthew 12:36–37). The instruction to go to God ready to listen more than to speak (cf. Ecclesiastes 5:1) is echoed by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount (cf. Matthew 6:7–8), and it applies to how we treat one another too (cf. James 1:19).

The Psalms model bringing nearly everything to God and being completely honest about our feelings — but notice the psalmist always circles back to give God glory and trust, even when he doesn't feel like it (e.g., Psalm 42:5). Ecclesiastes 5 doesn't stop us from bringing everything to God — it's a reminder to do so in the fear of God (cf. Ecclesiastes 5:7).

AI-Expanded Reflection

The specific danger Ecclesiastes 5 names isn't quantity of speech, but carelessness in it — the passage warns against a fool's many words (Ecclesiastes 5:3, 7), not against approaching God often. That distinction matters, since it means the corrective isn't "bring God less," but "bring God words you actually mean and intend to follow through on." James makes essentially the same point about vows generally, urging simple, reliable speech — a plain "yes" or "no" — precisely so a person's word can be trusted without needing an oath attached to prop it up (a paraphrase of James 5:12). Both passages are less concerned with limiting access to God than with the integrity of what's actually said once that access is used.