How Do We Find Joy in our Work in a World Like This?

Sunday, January 11, 2026

The Rev. Dan Clark (he/him)

Allied Person of Faith

Quote

“Completely illusory!” says Qoheleth. “Completely illusory! Everything is just an illusion!”

I, Qoheleth, was ruler of Israel in Jerusalem. I saw it as my duty—aided by Wisdom—to determine all that is accomplished under the sun. What a heavy task God has laid upon us! So now I’ve seen all the works that have been done under the sun and let me tell you: Everything is but a mist of air, like chasing the wind.

I have come to abhor all my labor under the sun, the fruits of which I now must pass on to my successor. Will this person be wise or foolish? Regardless, my successor will be in charge of all mighty things I created under the sun. This too is illusory. So, I gave over my heart to utter despair over everything for which I had labored under the sun. For I, a person who has worked wisely, skillfully, and successfully, must leave it to someone who has not so much as lifted a finger—another mist of air, another miscarriage of justice. What do I gain for all my sweat and struggle under the sun? What about the daily struggles, the strain of official duties, the anxiety in the dead of night? This too is illusory. In the end, there is nothing better for us than to eat and drink and try to find solace in our work. This, I realized, is from the hand of God, for who can eat and have enjoyment without God? God gives wisdom, knowledge, and joy to those who are pleasing to the Most High; but the sinner gets to sweat at harvesting and storing and then giving it to the one pleasing to God. This too is an illusion, like chasing the wind.

~Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14; 2:18-26 (The Inclusive Bible, The First Egalitarian Translation)

Devotion

The book of Ecclesiastes, its title drawn from the Hebrew word for “Assembly,” is a wild, wonderful, and at times unsettling ride. The author is called Qoheleth, which means “Teacher.” It’s an ancient TED Talk. We’re the assembly. The teacher stands to speak.

And what does this teacher tell us? That they tried everything to find satisfaction in life… and came up empty.

Qoheleth starts with wisdom, learning, and understanding. They seek truth and knowledge. But the result? “With much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief.”

Then they try laughter, pleasure, and escapism. Still empty.

Then come houses, vineyards, gardens, parks, and state-of-the-art infrastructure and utilities — huge construction projects. But the joy doesn’t last.

They amass wealth — silver, gold, livestock, employees, entertainers, enslaved persons, and sex workers. Still, meaningless.

They pursue status, reputation, and achievements. But all it brings is anxiety. They lay awake at night thinking about their problems.

Qoheleth, the Teacher, is the ancient equivalent of a billionaire. And you know what? Billionaires rarely, if ever, start from nothing. Their power is often built on stolen land and stolen labor. And yet, even they can’t get no satisfaction.

But it’s not just kings and corporate executives who have existential crises such as these. It’s not just people in the corner offices and the C-suite wondering what it’s all for. Working people ask those questions, too. (I’m obviously stating the obvious.) We all ask these questions. Unemployed and underemployed people. Folks experiencing poverty, food insecurity, housing instability. Parents, students, retirees. First shift, second shift, third shift. Cisgender straight folks. LGBTQIA+ folx. Everyone. The questions echo: “How can I be satisfied? What am I doing with my life?”

The rich are like the Rolling Stones — they can’t get no satisfaction. And the poor? They’re like Tennessee Ernie Ford: “You load sixteen tons, what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt. St. Peter don’t you call me, ‘cause I can’t go—I owe my soul to the company store.”

Comedian and author Nick Offerman (you might know him as Ron Swanson on Parks and Rec) says in one of his stand-up bits: Why do we even say, “Thank God It’s… Friday”? Is it because we dread 5/7ths of the week and live for 2/7ths?

Maybe Qoheleth felt like Peter in the movie Office Space when he says, “I don’t like my job, and, uh, I don’t think I’m gonna go anymore.”

But what is it we really hate? Is it the job itself — the hours, the clocking in and out, the proposals and protocols, the pitches and presentations, the cubicles and conferences, the TPS reports and consultants and jammed printers?

Let’s go back to the text.

In the original Hebrew language that Ecclesiastes was written in, the Teacher says all of this striving is “hevel” — smoke, vapor. It looks solid, but you can’t hold it. It slips through your fingers. It’s also described as “re-ooth ruaḥ” — a chasing after the wind.

But here’s what strikes me: I don’t get the impression that the Teacher hates the work itself. The problem is going to work for meaning. Looking to the job for identity. Trying to fill the void with productivity. That’s when it all becomes smoke, vanity, futility.

Qoheleth concludes, “There is nothing better than to eat, drink, and find enjoyment in our work.”

But how do we do that when wages are stagnant and costs are rising? When student debt burdens us, and higher education is under attack? When DOGE, AI, tariffs, and political instability threaten jobs? When racism, sexism, ageism, homophobia, Transphobia, and xenophobia still determine who gets hired, fired, promoted, or protected?

How do we find joy in our work in a world like this?

If we are trying to fill the void, fill the emptiness with productivity, we will only end up empty. If we are trying to find our identity and worth in our jobs, we will find that we are reducing ourselves to human DOings rather than human BEings.

The answer is not to look for identity in productivity. If we try to fill the emptiness with output, we will stay empty. If we define our worth by our title or salary, we become human DOings instead of human BEings.

Tricia Hersey is a poet, artist, theologian, and community organizer. (You should follow her on Instagram at @TheNapMinistry.) In her book “Rest is Resistance: A Manifesto,” she says, “Fear and scarcity are a big part of how the culture keeps us bound up in the hamster wheel. Our own personal experiences and the continued reinforcement we receive from those around us paralyze us with disbelief. I was told repeatedly by employers, friends, teachers, politicians, and church leaders that life was for doing, hustling, and following a path to wealth and accomplishment. I have heard, “The early bird gets the worm,” “I will sleep when I am dead,” “If you don’t get up and get it every day, nothing will ever work for you,” “While y’all sleep, I grind,” “Burn the midnight oil to get things done,” “Team No Sleep,” “Rise and grind,” and “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps.” All these toxic sayings and more are a part of the language of a culture determined to increase production and profit. I keep hearing about the ways we exhaust ourselves to be seen as valuable and I am wondering when we will shift to see our inherent worth. When this happens, we will be closer to liberation.”

90% of my colleagues and I were laid off in July 2025 from a faith-based non-profit advocacy organization. My spouse and kids got me a card and one of them wrote in the card, “I know this is a tough moment for you and it feels really heavy. Just know it doesn’t take away from your worth.”

That one sentence is a devotion in and of itself.

Your worth does not evaporate with your employment. Your dignity doesn’t disappear because a budget did. You are not disposable. You are not defined by the outcome. You are loved.

You are loved.

And I can’t help but believe that if the Teacher were speaking to our Assembly, they might say something like this too:

“You are beloved children of God.Your worth does not come from what you do.Your value does not depend on your resume, your paycheck, your job title, your LinkedIn profile, or your investment portfolio.You are loved.And that is enough.”

So may we stop chasing the wind.

May we stop measuring ourselves by what we produce.

May we find joy — not in status or striving — but in the sacred presence of God in our everyday lives.

May our work, whatever it is, be rooted in love.

And may we remember: We are not human DOings, we are human BEings, fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God.

And we are loved!

Amen.

Reflection

1. Where in your own life have you felt like you were “chasing the wind” — striving for meaning or worth in work, productivity, or achievement, only to feel empty?

2. What practices, relationships, or reminders help you remember that your worth is not tied to your job, income, or output?

3. Qoheleth concludes that joy can be found in simple things — “to eat, drink, and find enjoyment in our work.” What does genuine enjoyment in your daily work or life look like for you right now?

4. If you truly believed — deep down — that you are loved by God apart from what you do or produce, how might that shift the way you approach work, rest, or your sense of self?

Action

This week, take one intentional step to live as a human BEing rather than a human DOing. That might mean pausing for a walk without your phone, setting aside a few minutes of rest or prayer, or simply writing “I am loved. That is enough.” where you will see it each day. Let that practice be a reminder that your worth does not depend on what you produce — it flows from being beloved by God.