Finding Hope in a Broken World: Ecclesiastes and the Call to Evangelism/Discipleship
When most people think of encouraging verses for sharing the Good News of Christ’s redeeming work, Ecclesiastes probably isn’t the first book that comes to mind. Yet, this deeply reflective book reveals a reality that I believe presents a perfect opportunity for gospel conversations.
Now, when I say opportunity, I don’t mean we should approach every situation with a formulaic checklist. Every encounter is different, and we must lean on the Lord’s guidance when speaking with others. Evangelism isn’t about hacking our way through a jungle of objections to reach the heart of the matter; it’s about genuine care for real people—souls who may or may not know the God we cling to. We must remember that our own journey to Christ was carefully led by His hand, and every situation requires a Spirit-led trust that He will give us the words to speak.
As Paul reminds us in Colossians, “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person” (Colossians 4:6). Every opportunity is a gift—an act of obedience by faith that allows us to truly minister to those in front of us. This is where Ecclesiastes resonates so deeply. Often, it is suffering, turmoil, and brokenness that soften the heart and expose the fragility of life. We see this clearly in the words of King Solomon, a man who had everything—wealth, wisdom, power—yet found only emptiness apart from God.

Regardless of who we are, the reality remains: the world is broken. The curse of sin, stretching all the way back to the Garden of Eden, has rippled through time, leaving devastation in its wake. Solomon knew this. No amount of wealth, toil, or honor can change the truth that everything in this life is fleeting—a mere vapor when weighed against eternity.
People long for something more, something greater, something real. Yet, they often settle for temporary pleasures, distractions, and counterfeits. We all feel that nagging dissatisfaction—the unshakable sense that there must be something more. And still, we substitute what is best for what is merely tangible.
But all of that comes to a halt when death confronts us. Suddenly, the illusions shatter. No amount of distraction can make the pain disappear. Ecclesiastes 7:2 tells us, “It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.” In grief, people face the reality they’ve tried so hard to ignore. And for those of us in Christ, this is an opportunity—not to recite clichés about a “better place” but to extend true hope.
If only the Church fully recognized this! We have real hope—a living hope—that is more than a comforting phrase. We understand that sometimes a hug speaks louder than words. And when people ask, as they inevitably will, we can lead them to the only One who gives rest to the weary.
Ecclesiastes paints a brutally honest picture: the world is broken. And when someone finally sees it, we don’t have to pretend otherwise. Instead, we can acknowledge the truth while pointing to the One who overcame death itself. As Andrew Peterson sings in His Heart Beats, Jesus “brought death to death”—redeeming and transforming us, reminding us that this world is not our home. This is not living our best life. Instead, we long for the day we will see our Lord face to face and finally declare, “O death, where is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55).
I cannot count how many times I have quoted Ecclesiastes 7 to coworkers and family members who would never set foot in a church. Yet, when the party ends and pain takes over, suddenly, they are willing to listen. And that is a good thing.
In His perfect wisdom and timing, God taught Solomon this lesson. Ecclesiastes 12:1 reminds us that “the days of trouble” bring no lasting pleasure. We all chase after the things of this world, but deep down, we know they don’t satisfy. If they did, the world wouldn’t constantly be selling us the next big thing. As Ecclesiastes 3:11 says, “He has set eternity in the human heart.” We are wired to long for something beyond this life, and God has made everything beautiful in its time. Our job is to recognize the season, point to Christ, and pray for those who have not yet found true freedom in the Son.
So as we work through this book, Church, my encouragement is this: start praying for those in your life. Remember that they are made in the image of God, that He loves them enough to die for them, and that He has called you to serve them with patience and fervency. In every conversation, give them heaven.
“He who observes the wind will not sow, and he who regards the clouds will not reap. As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything. In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good” (Ecclesiastes 11:4-6).
Keep planting the seeds. You never know which ones will take root.
