WELCOME
Good morning First Baptist. We welcome you to worship this morning. Be sure to remember your brothers and sisters in Christ throughout the week as you pray for them, and as the Holy Spirit brings their faces to your mind. Be sure to also connect with them in the ways that are possible. And if you have any questions or would like to talk to someone, please don’t hesitate to contact the church through the church telephone and leave a message. (519-733-4144)
Songs
Call to Worship
Good morning, everyone and welcome. We’re really glad you’re here this morning. Today we’re beginning a new teaching series called “Don’t settle: Finding a meaningful life.” And over the next few weeks we’re going to be walking through the book of Ecclesiastes, one of the most honest books in the Bible about what it means to look for meaning, to feel restless, and to discover that what we’re really longing for is God Himself.
Wherever you’re coming from this morning, whether life feels full, empty, busy, calm, or somewhere in between, we believe God has something to meet you with today. We’re glad you’re here.
We’ve just been thinking about our schedules, our calendars, our plans for the week. Now we’re being invited to turn our attention toward God. To slow down. To be present. To listen. To remember that before we do anything for God today, He is already here with us.
Call to Worship, Psalm 16
Hear these words from Psalm 16:
“Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely, I have a delightful inheritance. I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.” (Psalm 16:5–8)
This psalm reminds us that meaning is not something we have to chase. It’s something we receive. God Himself is our portion. God Himself is our presence and our joy. So, as we begin to worship, let’s do that together. Not performing or pretending. But simply turning our hearts toward the God who is already here.
Songs
Prayer
CONFESSION:
God of truth and mercy, we come to You with open hands and honest hearts. We confess that we often look for meaning in things that were never meant to carry the weight of our lives. We chase success, approval, comfort, and control, hoping they will quiet the restlessness inside us.
We confess that we grow weary from striving, yet still resist slowing down long enough to listen to You. We fill our lives with noise instead of prayer, achievement instead of trust, and busyness instead of presence.
Forgive us for settling for what fades while overlooking the life You freely offer. Gently loosen our grip on what we cling to, and reorient our hearts toward You. Meet us in our restlessness. Teach us to receive our lives as gifts, and to find our meaning not under the sun, but in Your faithful presence.
Amen.
WORDS OF ASSURANCE:
Hear the good news: God does not meet our restlessness with condemnation, but with compassion. God does not shame us for our striving but invites us closer. Scripture tells us that God sent His Son not to condemn the world, but to save it. In Jesus, we are met with love, grace, and invitation, an invitation to release what cannot save us and receive what truly gives life. So, know this: You are forgiven. You are seen. You are not failing you are being awakened.
Don’t Settle: Finding a Meaningful Life
Why Everything Under the Sun isn’t Enough
Today's Message: Pastor Dave Page
Today we’re starting a new series we’ve called “Don’t settle: Finding a meaningful life.” And we’re walking through one of the most honest and maybe surprising, books in the Bible: Ecclesiastes.
And if you’ve ever opened Ecclesiastes and thought, “Wow, this feels heavy,” or “This doesn’t sound very churchy,” you’re not wrong. But that’s actually why it’s such a gift.
Let’s start by reading Ecclesiastes 1:1-2
Scripture Reading: Ecclesiastes 1:1-18
The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem.
2 “Vanity of vanities,” says the Preacher;
“Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.”3 What profit has a man from all his labor
In which he toils under the sun?
4 One generation passes away, and another generation comes;
But the earth abides forever.
5 The sun also rises, and the sun goes down,
And hastens to the place where it arose.
6 The wind goes toward the south,
And turns around to the north;
The wind whirls about continually,
And comes again on its circuit.
7 All the rivers run into the sea,
Yet the sea is not full;
To the place from which the rivers come,
There they return again.
8 All things are full of labor;
Man cannot express it.
The eye is not satisfied with seeing,
Nor the ear filled with hearing.9 That which has been is what will be,
That which is done is what will be done,
And there is nothing new under the sun.
10 Is there anything of which it may be said,
“See, this is new”?
It has already been in ancient times before us.
11 There is no remembrance of former things,
Nor will there be any remembrance of things that are to come
By those who will come after.The Grief of Wisdom
12 I, the Preacher, was king over Israel in Jerusalem. 13 And I set my heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all that is done under heaven; this burdensome task God has given to the sons of man, by which they may be exercised. 14 I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and indeed, all is vanity and grasping for the wind.
15 What is crooked cannot be made straight,
And what is lacking cannot be numbered.16 I communed with my heart, saying, “Look, I have attained greatness, and have gained more wisdom than all who were before me in Jerusalem. My heart has understood great wisdom and knowledge.” 17 And I set my heart to know wisdom and to know madness and folly. I perceived that this also is grasping for the wind.
18 For in much wisdom is much grief,
And he who increases knowledge increases sorrow.
Because Ecclesiastes is the book that gives you permission to be honest about how life actually feels sometimes. Not how we wish it felt. But how it really feels. And the Teacher, that’s the voice of Ecclesiastes, looks out at the world and says, “I’ve tried all of this. I’ve chased all of this. And I want to tell you the truth about what it’s really like.”
Now, before we jump all the way in, let me give you just a little bit of context about this book and about the person most closely connected to it, King Solomon. Solomon was the son of King David. He became king over Israel during one of the most peaceful and prosperous seasons in the nation’s history. And when Solomon became king, God appeared to him and said, “Ask for whatever you want me to give you.” And Solomon asked for wisdom. Not for power or wealth. Not for long life. He asked for wisdom to govern God’s people well.
And God was so pleased with that request that He gave Solomon not only wisdom, but also extraordinary wealth, honour, influence, and success.
The Bible tells us that Solomon became the wisest person of his generation. Kings and queens traveled from all over the world just to listen to him speak. The Queen of Sheba came with gifts because she had heard about his wisdom and his kingdom.
The Bible is very clear about Solomon’s wealth.
It says his palace took years to build and was filled with gold, gardens, pools, servants, musicians, and imported treasures. He had more of everything than anyone else around him. In fact in todays Canadian dollars he would have a personal worth of around $3 Trillion – TRILLION, WITH A T!!!
In other words, Solomon had access to everything most of us spend our lives chasing. Success. Comfort. Security. Pleasure. Achievement. Recognition. If anyone could say, “I tried it all,” it was him. And that’s why Ecclesiastes matters.
Because this book is not written by someone who is bitter because life didn’t work. It’s written by someone who climbed to the top of the ladder and realized it was leaning against the wrong wall.
When Solomon says, “Everything under the sun is vapour,” this isn’t a philosopher speculating. This is a king reflecting. This is someone who had everything people think will satisfy them and still discovered that it wasn’t enough. And that’s what makes this book so relevant. And especially relevant right now.
Think about this, we’ve just come through Christmas. We’ve opened the gifts. We’ve enjoyed the meals. We’ve had the moments. And some of those things were wonderful, truly. But if we’re honest, none of them were meant to carry the weight of our lives.
And now we’re standing at the start of a new year. Thinking about goals. Thinking about change. Thinking about what we want to be different. Thinking about what actually matters.
And in that moment, when the wrapping paper is gone, and the calendar is fresh, and the questions are a little closer to the surface, Ecclesiastes meets us and says: “Let’s talk honestly about what you’re living for.” “Let’s talk about what you’re chasing.” “Let’s talk about what you don’t want to settle for anymore.” And then it gently invites us to discover what it really means to live a meaningful life before God.
The Exhaustion of the Chase
Read Ecclesiastes 1:1-11
When Solomon describes life under the sun, constantly moving, chasing, striving, this isn’t just an ancient feeling.
Ecclesiastes 1:8 (NIV)
“All things are wearisome, more than one can say. The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing.”
Today, researchers are documenting this same kind of exhaustion and burnout in modern life.
In a major 2024 global study, nearly half of workers around the world said they’re struggling with burnout and exhaustion right now, nearly 48% reporting it as a top challenge they face in their work and daily lives. Here in Canada, the pattern is the same. Recent research shows that around 42% of workers are experiencing burnout, and that’s up significantly from previous years.
That means almost half of working adults are living in a constant state of stress, tiredness, being overwhelmed, living as if they’re always one step away from finally catching up. So if you’re feeling tired, not just physically tired, but soul-tired, Ecclesiastes says, “You’re not broken. You’re paying attention.” That weariness isn’t a failure of faith .and it’s certainly not a sign that something is wrong with you. It might actually be a sign that something is waking up in you. That tiredness is not just psychological. It’s spiritual. It’s the soul longing for what only God’s presence can supply.
Right here in the first chapter is Solomon coming to grips with the chase and he’s finally stopping long enough to ask better questions. Questions that apply to you and I today .
Questions like: Why am I running this hard? What am I hoping this will give me? What do I really want my life to be about? It’s here where Ecclesiastes gently shifts, it treats our exhaustion as a doorway to something. A doorway into honesty and freedom. A doorway into something better. A doorway into more.
Here’s our first encouragement for you in this, let’s not rush past what we’re feeling, let’s listen to it, because what feels like restlessness might actually be the Holy Spirit gently stirring us awake. It might actually be God’s invitation. And that’s where Ecclesiastes takes us next.
Why God Lets Us Feel This
Here’s a question that I expect many of us have wrestled with: Why does God allow us to feel restless? What we’re hearing here so far is Solomon restless .
Why does God allow us to feel dissatisfied, even when our lives are, by many measures, are really good? Why does He allow that quiet sense that something is still missing?
Is it to punish us or to frustrate us? Is it to point out our failures?
I don’t think so. In fact, more and more in my life I am convinced that it’s to gently loosen our grip on what was never meant to hold us. You see, as long as we are tightly holding on to something, success, security, approval, comfort, we don’t have much room left to receive anything else. Sometimes God’s first act of grace is not giving us something new it’s helping us release what we’re clinging to.
There’s a moment in the Gospels where we see this very thing happen. Jesus meets someone who looks like he has his life together, the rich young ruler. He’s moral. He’s disciplined. He’s respected. He’s successful. From the outside, he looks like someone who should be deeply at peace. And yet he comes to Jesus with a question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Which is really another way of asking, “What am I missing?”
Because even with everything he has, something still feels unfinished. And what’s so beautiful about that moment is how Jesus responds. He doesn’t shame him or embarrass him. The Gospel says, “Jesus looked at him and loved him.” Jesus sees his effort and his sincerity. Jesus sees his longing. And then Jesus gently names the one place where his heart is still holding tightly. “One thing you lack.” Not as condemnation, but as invitation. “Let go of what you’re clinging to, and come follow me.” And the man walks away sad. Not because Jesus was harsh but because he couldn’t yet imagine that what Jesus was offering was actually better than what he was holding.
That sadness, that moment of tension, is holy ground, it’s the place of awakening. It’s the space where our illusions begin to crack. It’s the moment when what once felt solid starts to feel thin. When our hands are full, but our hearts are not. And notice, God does not rush to rescue us from that moment. Because that moment is often what finally opens us up. It’s what wakes us up to the reality that maybe we’ve been asking the wrong things to carry the weight of our lives.
You see this pattern all through Scripture. Abraham feels restless before he ever leaves his home. The Israelites grow uncomfortable in Egypt before they can imagine freedom. All through Scripture, God’s Spirit stirs holy unrest before transformation. The disciples feel dissatisfied with their nets before they drop them and follow Jesus.
Transformation rarely begins with comfort. It usually begins with a holy disturbance, holy discontent. Not to harm us, but to reorient us. To make room for something better.
So, if you’re in a season where life looks fine on the outside, but something feels off on the inside That may not be a problem to fix. It may be an invitation to listen. An invitation to loosen your grip and open your hands. An invitation to stop settling.
An Invitation, not a Condemnation
If God is using our restlessness not to shame us but to wake us up, then we need to hear what kind of voice is actually speaking to us here because there’s a huge difference between a voice that condemns and a voice that invites.
Condemnation says, “You should be better by now.”
Invitation says, “Come closer.”
Condemnation says, “You’ve failed.”
Invitation says, “There’s more for you.”
Condemnation pushes us away.
Invitation draws us in.
And Ecclesiastes, surprisingly, is written in the language of invitation. It’s not angry. It’s not cynical. It’s not bitter. It’s honest. It’s the voice of someone who has walked the long road of striving and is now turning around to say, “You don’t have to do this the hard way.”
John 3:17-17 For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him.
That’s such an important shift for us because many of us have learned to hear God primarily as disappointed. Disappointed that we still struggle. Disappointed that we still get distracted. Disappointed that we don’t get it right! But that’s not the posture of God in Ecclesiastes or anywhere. God is not standing at the end of the road with crossed arms saying, “I told you so.” He’s walking alongside us saying, “I know. It’s okay. I’ve been there. Let me show you something better.”
That’s why the repeated invitation in Ecclesiastes is not, “Do more.” It’s, “Receive.” Receive your life as a gift. Receive your work as meaningful, but not ultimate. Receive your limits as part of your humanity. Receive God’s presence in the middle of ordinary days. Ecclesiastes is inviting us to stop trying to make life meaningful on our own and to start living meaningfully before God.
Which means the goal is not to escape the world. The goal is not to reject joy. Or to withdraw from life. The goal is to reorient. To stop asking finite things to give us infinite meaning. To stop asking success to save us. And instead, to live with God at the centre, not as a concept, not as a weekend add-on, but as the grounding reality of our everyday lives.
Read Ecclesiastes 1:12-18
Sounds kind of hopeless, doesn’t it? Now remember what we said earlier about waking up, this is Solomon telling us, I’m waking up! And when you start to truly wake up, when you stop settling for what fades and start orienting your life around what lasts, something begins to change. You stop asking your life to justify itself. And instead, you begin to notice that meaning is already there, waiting to be received. And that brings us to where Ecclesiastes wants to leave us today with an open-handed invitation.
A Call to Action
So, as we begin this series, here’s what we’re inviting you to actually do this week. Pay attention to your restlessness. It might be the Spirit’s whisper. Not to judge it. Not to fix it right away. Not to numb it or drown it out. But to notice it because in the last few weeks we’ve been learning how to live in God’s presence and one of the surprising ways God makes us aware of His presence is sometimes, by unsettling us.
When something feels off. When something feels thin. When something doesn’t satisfy the way it used to. That restlessness may not mean God is far. It may mean God is near. It may be the gentle pressure of His presence inviting you to stop settling.
So, when you feel it this week, pause. Instead of scrolling past it, or filling it, or running from it, bring it to God. Let it become prayer. “God, what are You stirring in me?” “God, what are You inviting me into?” “God, what am I holding onto that You’re asking me to release?”
So don’t settle because God is not inviting you into a different life someday. He’s inviting you into a different way of living right now, a life lived with Him at the centre.
Prayer
Gracious God, we thank You for meeting us here; not in our pretending, but in our honesty. You see the places where we are tired, where the chase has worn us thin, where we’ve asked good things to carry more than they were ever meant to hold. And instead of condemning us, You invite us closer.
As we leave this place, help us to pay attention to what You are stirring in us. When restlessness rises, teach us not to numb it or run from it, but to bring it to You. When our hands are full, give us the courage to loosen our grip. When our hearts feel unsettled, remind us that You may be nearer than we realize.
Reorient our lives, O God, not away from joy, but toward deeper joy; not away from the world, but toward life lived with You at the centre.
Teach us to receive our work, our relationships, and our days as gifts, and to trust that meaning is not something we must manufacture, but something You are already offering. Send us out with open hands and attentive hearts, listening for Your Spirit, walking in Your grace, and refusing to settle for anything less than life with You. We pray all of this in the name of Jesus, who invites us, loves us, and leads us into what truly lasts.
Amen.
Song
Benediction
Go in peace, paying attention to what God is stirring in you. May you release what cannot satisfy and receive the life God is offering. And may the grace of God go with you, now and always.