What’s the Point? When Work Doesn’t Work

WALDEN – Every morning, many of us wake up, check our phones and feel that familiar pit in our stomachs. Another crisis. Another tragedy. Another reminder that the world feels heavy, chaotic and uncertain.

And yet, we pour our coffee and get on with the day. Because what else can we do? The bills are due. People are depending on us. And somewhere in that quiet space between sighing and scrambling, we ask ourselves, “What’s the point of all this?”

If you’ve ever felt that way, you’re not alone.

The ancient writer of the biblical book of Ecclesiastes, traditionally thought to be King Solomon, wrestled with that very question. He lived thousands of years ago, but his voice could easily belong to someone burned out in 2025, caught between hustle culture and hopeless headlines.

The words of Ecclesiastes dare to convey what many of us feel but are too polite or too proud to admit: life doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes hard work doesn’t pay off. Sometimes effort doesn’t equal reward. And sometimes, the best you can do still isn’t enough.

The writer of Ecclesiastes looks down the road of work and labor, and instead of offering easy answers, asks three hard questions.

First: “Who am I kidding? I can’t take It with me.”

After reflecting on all the wealth and achievements he’s accumulated, the writer comes to a painful realization: none of it will last. And worse yet, he has no control over what happens to it after he’s gone.

He writes: “So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. I must leave [all I’ve built] to the one who comes after me.”

We’ve all seen this play out. Consider Dennis Barnhart, the founder of Eagle Computers, a Silicon Valley success story in the early 1980s. On the day his company went public, it raised $37 million. Barnhart personally gained $9 million in a single day. But that same afternoon, while driving home, he died in a car accident.

A fortune gained. A life lost.

The book of Ecclesiastes reminds us: No matter how much we achieve, we don’t control the end, or what happens after it.

Work is not the enemy, but when it becomes everything, it disappoints us.

Second: “Is the trade-off worth it?”

The writer in Ecclesiastes asks, “What do people get for all their anxious striving? Even at night their minds do not rest.”

Sound familiar? How many of us lie awake, mentally juggling to-do lists, deadlines, and worries? How many have brought work home, not in our briefcases, but in our bones?

We live in a world that glorifies busyness and burnout. The phrase “I’m so busy” is almost a badge of honor. But what’s the cost?

Journalist David Brooks once wrote, “Work without meaning creates a vacuum where the soul should be.” When our work becomes our identity, our soul pays the price.

Third: “Is there always a payoff?”

We grow up being told hard work leads to success. But the verses in Ecclesiastes remind us that life doesn’t always play by those rules.

“The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong . . . but time and chance happen to them all.”

Sometimes promotions go to the connected, not the qualified.

Sometimes jobs are lost not because of performance, but because of economic shifts. Sometimes success feels more like a lottery than a reward.

And the writer of Ecclesiastes does not sugarcoat it. He tells us, with blunt honesty, that life isn’t fair. Effort doesn’t guarantee outcome. And striving doesn’t always lead to satisfaction.

After all this sobering honesty, the writer turns a corner. “God has set eternity in the human heart.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11) There is a hunger in us that work can’t fill. A longing that toil cannot satisfy. Because we were made for something more, something deeper, something eternal.

When we anchor our meaning in the transcendental, not our job, everything shifts. Work becomes worship. Sabbath becomes sacred. Success is redefined.

So maybe the better question isn’t just, “What’s the point?”

Maybe it’s, “Where is my soul rooted?”

Jeffrey Pierpont is Interim Minister of the Greensboro United Church of Christ.