Why Does the Bible Have a Whole Book About Meaninglessness?
What We Didn’t Say on Sunday

Westside Gainesville •
July 23, 2026

10 Minute Read

David opened his chapter 3 sermon by telling the congregation that God is really a problem. Pause. Long, awkward pause. Then: “because if God exists and he’s your Creator, you have somebody to answer to.”

It’s a pretty good way to open a sermon on Ecclesiastes. The whole book is built on that kind of tension — honest, uncomfortable, nowhere to hide. This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday picks back up after the youth camp break with Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin covering what they preached through chapters 2 and 3 of the most honest book in the Bible.

What Richie Preached: Work, Identity, and What You’re Actually Leaving Behind

Richie’s recap of Ecclesiastes 2 moved in three directions. First: leave an enduring legacy. Solomon’s whole anxiety in chapter 2 is that everything he’s built is going to get handed to whoever comes after him — and he already knows that’s going to be Rehoboam, who would proceed to split the kingdom in half. The charge Richie drew from that: don’t let your work define what you leave. Let Christ define it. Whatever job you’re in, do it as a disciple-maker.

He also made an intentional blooper at the start of his sermon, telling the congregation to quit their jobs. He meant it exactly the way he said it: stay where you work, but change why you’re there. Your job is the context. Discipleship is the mission.

Second: be liberated from work as your identity. Solomon’s striving — all the “I, me, I, me” pronouns stacking up through chapter 2 — brought him sorrow and vexation even at night. When your identity is in what you produce, you’re on a roller coaster. And all kinds of things in the world can knock you off it, including just losing your job on Friday before Richie preaches about it on Sunday — which actually happened.

Third: live in the grace of God. Work itself isn’t the curse. It was in the garden before the fall — God put Adam there to work it and keep it. The curse is the thorns that came with it. So the goal isn’t less work; it’s work aimed at something that outlasts it.

Colossians 3:23

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What David Preached: Seasons, Scores, and Dust

David preached chapter 3 on his birthday, with his first granddaughter a few weeks old. He opened with Kansas’s “Dust in the Wind” — probably the most Ecclesiastes-adjacent song in the classic rock canon — and titled the sermon “We’re More Than Dust in the Wind.” The song gets the hopelessness right. The sermon is about where it goes wrong.

Three movements. First: God is sovereign over my seasons. Looking back over the chapter’s list — birth and death, planting and uprooting, weeping and laughing, war and peace — David’s read is that Solomon’s point isn’t that life is random. It’s that no single season tells the whole story. You can get stuck in a good season (thinking it’ll last) or a bad one (thinking it won’t end). Ecclesiastes says: recognize the season you’re in, be faithful in it, and trust God with the rest. Second: when your labor connects to God’s kingdom, it gets eternalized. Whatever David does at Westside for however many years — it may seem like it disappears. But kingdom work, he said, creates ripples beyond the sun. It’s work that God’s sustaining hand is on.

Third: God will settle every score. Ecclesiastes 3 ends with something uncomfortable — the recognition that there’s injustice where there should be justice, and Solomon says God’s going to have to sort that out. David walked that straight into the gospel: if God settles every score, he’s got one to settle with each of us. It gets settled either at the great white throne or at the cross. That’s not a threat. That’s an invitation.

Knowing what time it is

One of the threads that ran through both sermons and most of their conversation: knowing what season you’re in and doing the right thing with it. David mentioned a podcast and a book he wants to read on how to “die well” — not in a hospice sense, but how to spend the last 10 or 20 years giving away what you’ve accumulated in wisdom, relationship, and faith rather than holding onto it.

He told the story of doing a funeral for a 92-year-old man. Afterward, the widow, who was 96, asked David if he’d do hers too when the time came. Then she said, almost offhandedly: “I just cannot believe how fast 96 years went.”

The practical application, especially from Richie: know what time it is for you right now. A young mother with two kids under three has a different most-impactful use of herself than someone who’s built an organization for 30 years and has wisdom to pour out. The season determines the assignment.

“I’ve come to understand God’s going to have to judge this. And the problem with God settling every score is that he’s got a score to settle with me.” — Pastor David Chauncey
The wisdom books and where they all go

Richie placed Ecclesiastes inside a framework of the five wisdom books — Psalms, Job, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Solomon — that’s worth knowing when you read any of them. Proverbs is normative: if everything is equal and you follow these principles, you’ll probably have a pretty good life. Ecclesiastes is the other book: most likely, things aren’t going to go exactly right, so how do you navigate that? Job is the third book: when nothing goes right, when you’ve done everything correctly and you’re still suffering, where do you bring that? Psalms are 150 prayers covering that same range of human experience. Song of Solomon is the one about love.

The point: you can’t read one in isolation. And you can’t read Ecclesiastes in isolation either — it’s intended to be read front to back. Pull one verse out of the middle and you can walk away with a genuinely sad day.

Philip Ryken’s commentary on Ecclesiastes is titled “When Everything Matters” — which is deliberately the opposite of what the book sounds like on the surface. His read: Ecclesiastes isn’t saying nothing matters. It’s showing you that everything matters in God.

Wisdom pondering, and wisdom personified

David nearly outlined his sermon as “wisdom pondering” — which is what most of Ecclesiastes is. He stepped back from it because it sounded too academic, but the category is exactly right. Solomon is wisdom pondering — asking hard questions, noticing the things nobody wants to name, sitting with uncertainty. It leaves you floating.

It’s not until wisdom gets personified that the pondering lands somewhere. In John 1:1, John comes in with what Richie called a right hook: “In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God, and the Logos was God.” The Greek philosophers had been asking what the Logos was — the meaning behind it all — for centuries. Solomon was asking the same question in Hebrew. John just says: it became flesh. You can see it. Touch it. Watch it die and come back.

And then Jesus shows up in the gospels presenting himself as everything Ecclesiastes says is missing. I am the bread of life — you’ll never hunger. I am the water of life — you’ll never thirst. I am the resurrection and the life — you’ll never really die. He is, as David put it, the personification of what God has always been trying to give us.

“All of this is wisdom pondering. And it’s not until wisdom is personified in the person of Christ that it makes all of this Old Testament pondering make sense.” — Pastor David Chauncey


Watch the Full Episode
Take Your Next Step
Also in this episode
  • The pebble in the shoe: Ecclesiastes 3:11 says God has put eternity in man’s heart — that restlessness is the pebble you can’t ignore
  • The case for liking the hard questions in Scripture vs. wanting black-and-white answers — David’s honest confession
  • John Piper’s Don’t Waste Your Life and the two retired nurses who died in Cameroon doing exactly what they were made to do
  • Jesus’s Messiah clock — he knew when it was time to build, time to heal, time to wait (Lazarus), and time to stop and start dying
  • Preview: two more chapters of Ecclesiastes to go before fall begins
Why Does the Bible Have a Whole Book About Meaninglessness?

Ecclesiastes doesn’t actually say everything is meaningless — or at least, that’s not the point. The Hebrew word translated as “vanity” or “meaninglessness” (hebel) literally means “breath” or “mist” — something ephemeral, here and then gone. Solomon is observing that the things people build their lives around under the sun don’t last. They have a kind of unreality to them. But God endures, and therefore work aimed at God endures. Ecclesiastes is less an argument for meaninglessness and more an extended demonstration that meaning can’t be found where most people are looking for it.

What Does Ecclesiastes Say About Work?

Ecclesiastes 2 wrestles with whether work itself has value, given that everything we build will eventually pass to someone else who may squander it. Solomon’s conclusion isn’t that work is bad — it’s that work as an identity and an ultimate source of meaning will always disappoint. Work that flows from faithfulness to God carries significance beyond what you can see. Colossians 3:23 frames the New Testament version: work heartily as for the Lord, not for men. What matters isn’t the work itself but what it’s aimed at.

What Does ‘For Everything There Is a Season’ Mean in Ecclesiastes 3?

Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 presents a list of contrasting seasons — birth and death, planting and uprooting, weeping and laughing, war and peace. The point isn’t fatalism or randomness. Solomon is observing that every human experience has its appointed time, and God is sovereign over all of them. The corresponding call is faithfulness in whatever season you’re in, rather than clinging to good seasons or despairing in difficult ones. Ecclesiastes 3:11 adds the key theological note: God has put eternity into the human heart, which explains why no earthly season ever fully satisfies.

How Does Ecclesiastes Point to Jesus?

Ecclesiastes documents the failure of everything under the sun to provide lasting meaning — pleasure, work, wisdom, achievement, accumulation. It’s a long setup to a question the book never fully answers by itself. Jesus, in the New Testament, presents himself as the direct answer to each of Ecclesiastes’s unresolved questions: the bread of life (you’ll never hunger), the water of life (you’ll never thirst), the resurrection and the life (you’ll never ultimately die). Where Solomon could only ponder the Logos, John 1:1 says the Logos became flesh. Ecclesiastes is wisdom pondering; Jesus is wisdom personified.

Scripture Referenced: Ecclesiastes 2 • Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 • Ecclesiastes 3:11 • Ecclesiastes 3:12 • Philippians 3:4–8 • Colossians 3:23 • Matthew 5:16 • Revelation 7 • John 1:1 • Philippians 1:21–23


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July 23, 2026 • 10 Minute Read
Why Does the Bible Have a Whole Book About Meaninglessness?
David opened his chapter 3 sermon by telling the congregation that God is really a problem. Pause. Long, awkward pause. Then: “because if God exists and he’s your Creator, you have somebody to answer to.” It’s a pretty good way to open a sermon on Ecclesiastes. The whole book is built on that kind of tension — honest, uncomfortable, nowhere to hide. This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday picks back up after the youth camp break with Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin covering what they preached through chapters 2 and 3 of the most honest book in the Bible. What Richie Preached: Work, Identity, and What You’re Actually Leaving Behind Richie’s recap of Ecclesiastes 2 moved in three directions. First: leave an enduring legacy. Solomon’s whole anxiety in chapter 2 is that everything he’s built is going to get handed to whoever comes after him — and he already knows that’s going to be Rehoboam, who would proceed to split the kingdom in half. The charge Richie drew from that: don’t let your work define what you leave. Let Christ define it. Whatever job you’re in, do it as a disciple-maker. He also made an intentional blooper at the start of his sermon, telling the congregation to quit their jobs. He meant it exactly the way he said it: stay where you work, but change why you’re there. Your job is the context. Discipleship is the mission. Second: be liberated from work as your identity. Solomon’s striving — all the “I, me, I, me” pronouns stacking up through chapter 2 — brought him sorrow and vexation even at night. When your identity is in what you produce, you’re on a roller coaster. And all kinds of things in the world can knock you off it, including just losing your job on Friday before Richie preaches about it on Sunday — which actually happened. Third: live in the grace of God. Work itself isn’t the curse. It was in the garden before the fall — God put Adam there to work it and keep it. The curse is the thorns that came with it. So the goal isn’t less work; it’s work aimed at something that outlasts it. Colossians 3:23Find a Community of Believers What David Preached: Seasons, Scores, and Dust David preached chapter 3 on his birthday, with his first granddaughter a few weeks old. He opened with Kansas’s “Dust in the Wind” — probably the most Ecclesiastes-adjacent song in the classic rock canon — and titled the sermon “We’re More Than Dust in the Wind.” The song gets the hopelessness right. The sermon is about where it goes wrong. Three movements. First: God is sovereign over my seasons. Looking back over the chapter’s list — birth and death, planting and uprooting, weeping and laughing, war and peace — David’s read is that Solomon’s point isn’t that life is random. It’s that no single season tells the whole story. You can get stuck in a good season (thinking it’ll last) or a bad one (thinking it won’t end). Ecclesiastes says: recognize the season you’re in, be faithful in it, and trust God with the rest. Second: when your labor connects to God’s kingdom, it gets eternalized. Whatever David does at Westside for however many years — it may seem like it disappears. But kingdom work, he said, creates ripples beyond the sun. It’s work that God’s sustaining hand is on. Third: God will settle every score. Ecclesiastes 3 ends with something uncomfortable — the recognition that there’s injustice where there should be justice, and Solomon says God’s going to have to sort that out. David walked that straight into the gospel: if God settles every score, he’s got one to settle with each of us. It gets settled either at the great white throne or at the cross. That’s not a threat. That’s an invitation. Knowing what time it is One of the threads that ran through both sermons and most of their conversation: knowing what season you’re in and doing the right thing with it. David mentioned a podcast and a book he wants to read on how to “die well” — not in a hospice sense, but how to spend the last 10 or 20 years giving away what you’ve accumulated in wisdom, relationship, and faith rather than holding onto it. He told the story of doing a funeral for a 92-year-old man. Afterward, the widow, who was 96, asked David if he’d do hers too when the time came. Then she said, almost offhandedly: “I just cannot believe how fast 96 years went.” The practical application, especially from Richie: know what time it is for you right now. A young mother with two kids under three has a different most-impactful use of herself than someone who’s built an organization for 30 years and has wisdom to pour out. The season determines the assignment. “I’ve come to understand God’s going to have to judge this. And the problem with God settling every score is that he’s got a score to settle with me.” — Pastor David Chauncey The wisdom books and where they all go Richie placed Ecclesiastes inside a framework of the five wisdom books — Psalms, Job, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Solomon — that’s worth knowing when you read any of them. Proverbs is normative: if everything is equal and you follow these principles, you’ll probably have a pretty good life. Ecclesiastes is the other book: most likely, things aren’t going to go exactly right, so how do you navigate that? Job is the third book: when nothing goes right, when you’ve done everything correctly and you’re still suffering, where do you bring that? Psalms are 150 prayers covering that same range of human experience. Song of Solomon is the one about love. The point: you can’t read one in isolation. And you can’t read Ecclesiastes in isolation either — it’s intended to be read front to back. Pull one verse out of the middle and you can walk away with a genuinely sad day. Philip Ryken’s commentary on Ecclesiastes is titled “When Everything Matters” — which is deliberately the opposite of what the book sounds like on the surface. His read: Ecclesiastes isn’t saying nothing matters. It’s showing you that everything matters in God. Wisdom pondering, and wisdom personified David nearly outlined his sermon as “wisdom pondering” — which is what most of Ecclesiastes is. He stepped back from it because it sounded too academic, but the category is exactly right. Solomon is wisdom pondering — asking hard questions, noticing the things nobody wants to name, sitting with uncertainty. It leaves you floating. It’s not until wisdom gets personified that the pondering lands somewhere. In John 1:1, John comes in with what Richie called a right hook: “In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God, and the Logos was God.” The Greek philosophers had been asking what the Logos was — the meaning behind it all — for centuries. Solomon was asking the same question in Hebrew. John just says: it became flesh. You can see it. Touch it. Watch it die and come back. And then Jesus shows up in the gospels presenting himself as everything Ecclesiastes says is missing. I am the bread of life — you’ll never hunger. I am the water of life — you’ll never thirst. I am the resurrection and the life — you’ll never really die. He is, as David put it, the personification of what God has always been trying to give us. “All of this is wisdom pondering. And it’s not until wisdom is personified in the person of Christ that it makes all of this Old Testament pondering make sense.” — Pastor David ChaunceyWatch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step Also in this episode The pebble in the shoe: Ecclesiastes 3:11 says God has put eternity in man’s heart — that restlessness is the pebble you can’t ignore The case for liking the hard questions in Scripture vs. wanting black-and-white answers — David’s honest confession John Piper’s Don’t Waste Your Life and the two retired nurses who died in Cameroon doing exactly what they were made to do Jesus’s Messiah clock — he knew when it was time to build, time to heal, time to wait (Lazarus), and time to stop and start dying Preview: two more chapters of Ecclesiastes to go before fall begins Why Does the Bible Have a Whole Book About Meaninglessness? Ecclesiastes doesn’t actually say everything is meaningless — or at least, that’s not the point. The Hebrew word translated as “vanity” or “meaninglessness” (hebel) literally means “breath” or “mist” — something ephemeral, here and then gone. Solomon is observing that the things people build their lives around under the sun don’t last. They have a kind of unreality to them. But God endures, and therefore work aimed at God endures. Ecclesiastes is less an argument for meaninglessness and more an extended demonstration that meaning can’t be found where most people are looking for it. What Does Ecclesiastes Say About Work? Ecclesiastes 2 wrestles with whether work itself has value, given that everything we build will eventually pass to someone else who may squander it. Solomon’s conclusion isn’t that work is bad — it’s that work as an identity and an ultimate source of meaning will always disappoint. Work that flows from faithfulness to God carries significance beyond what you can see. Colossians 3:23 frames the New Testament version: work heartily as for the Lord, not for men. What matters isn’t the work itself but what it’s aimed at. What Does ‘For Everything There Is a Season’ Mean in Ecclesiastes 3? Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 presents a list of contrasting seasons — birth and death, planting and uprooting, weeping and laughing, war and peace. The point isn’t fatalism or randomness. Solomon is observing that every human experience has its appointed time, and God is sovereign over all of them. The corresponding call is faithfulness in whatever season you’re in, rather than clinging to good seasons or despairing in difficult ones. Ecclesiastes 3:11 adds the key theological note: God has put eternity into the human heart, which explains why no earthly season ever fully satisfies. How Does Ecclesiastes Point to Jesus? Ecclesiastes documents the failure of everything under the sun to provide lasting meaning — pleasure, work, wisdom, achievement, accumulation. It’s a long setup to a question the book never fully answers by itself. Jesus, in the New Testament, presents himself as the direct answer to each of Ecclesiastes’s unresolved questions: the bread of life (you’ll never hunger), the water of life (you’ll never thirst), the resurrection and the life (you’ll never ultimately die). Where Solomon could only ponder the Logos, John 1:1 says the Logos became flesh. Ecclesiastes is wisdom pondering; Jesus is wisdom personified. Scripture Referenced: Ecclesiastes 2 • Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 • Ecclesiastes 3:11 • Ecclesiastes 3:12 • Philippians 3:4–8 • Colossians 3:23 • Matthew 5:16 • Revelation 7 • John 1:1 • Philippians 1:21–23

Westside Gainesville

July 2, 2026 • 8 Minute Read
The Vine, the Branches, and a Newborn Grandbaby
Pastor David’s first grandchild was born on a Thursday. He preached this sermon three days later, and — by his own admission — there was no way it wasn’t going to end up in there somewhere. This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday closes out the Values series with John 15 — the vine and the branches — and the fourth value: growth over status quo. Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin talk through what it actually means to abide in Christ, and why “staying where you are” was never really on the table. A Peach on the table David brought a peach into the sanctuary Sunday. Left on the table a few weeks, he said, it doesn’t hold steady — it decays. That’s just how things work when they stop growing. A newborn is the same way, just faster and higher stakes: there’s no such thing as a baby standing still. Maintain isn’t an option. You’re either growing, or you’re going backward. He tied that straight to Jesus’s concern for his disciples in John 15 and 16 — faithfulness, fruitfulness, obedience, joy. Four things Jesus wanted for the people he was about to leave behind, the same way a new grandfather wants them for a baby three days old. Simon, Before he was peter Richie built his sermon around something easy to miss. Jesus’s first words to Simon weren’t “come, follow me” — that came later, maybe a year later, by the Sea of Galilee. The actual first words, back in John 1, were a name: “You are Simon, son of John. You will be called Cephas” — Peter. The rock. And then you watch Peter spend the next three years trying to earn a name he was given before he’d done anything to deserve it. Work, work, work — and Jesus gently correcting him the whole way through, back toward something simpler. Abide. Pruning hurts John 15:1-2 (ESV)“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” Richie pointed out something worth sitting with: the vine image isn’t random. In the Old Testament, the vine was Israel’s national symbol. When Jesus says “I am the true vine,” he’s saying something pointed — I’m what Israel was supposed to be and couldn’t. The Father is the one doing the pruning, and pruning isn’t gentle. It cuts. Richie pulled in C.S. Lewis’s Voyage of the Dawn Treader — the boy who turns into a dragon, and how painful it is when Aslan finally tears the dragon-skin off him. Worth it. Still genuinely painful. That’s pruning. Not punishment — removal of what’s actually hurting you, and it doesn’t feel good while it’s happening. What “Bearing Fruit” Actually Means Richie defined it plainly: bearing fruit is becoming more like Jesus. Not doing more church stuff — character. He went to Galatians 5, where Paul lists it out against the law: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Whatever you’re doing — missions, VBS, winning souls, whatever — none of it means much without the sap actually running through the vine. Christ has to be working in you, or it’s just activity. The lactation consultant David leaned hard into the newborn picture, and it’s a good one even if it got a little PG-13 for a Sunday morning. He can hold his grandbaby. Change a diaper — he’s done ten thousand of those. Protect him, provide for him. What he can’t do is nurse him. There’s exactly one person that baby can draw life from, and he has to latch on to get it. Then he said the quiet part: “I’m sort of your lactation consultant here.” His job on a Sunday is just to help people latch onto God’s word and actually draw from Christ — not produce the life themselves. He can’t give people something he doesn’t have. Whatever shows up on a Sunday morning is just the overflow of however he’s been abiding Monday through Saturday. Is Abiding passive, or is it work? Is abiding something you do, or something that happens to you? The answer? Both, and that’s not a contradiction. Mary, sitting at Jesus’s feet while Martha works herself ragged in the kitchen, isn’t doing nothing. She’s actively listening. Receiving and pursuing aren’t opposites. David tied it to 2 Peter 1 — Peter saying God’s divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness, and then turning around two verses later to say “for this reason, make every effort.” You’ve been given everything. Now go supplement it. Like a nursing baby who eventually needs more than just milk.Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step Closing the series: Four Values, ONe thread Richie pulled the whole series together at the end. Prayer over might — don’t just think about it, actually do it. Truth over trend — soak in the word, don’t just nod along. We over me — you can’t abide alone in your house; the church is part of it. Growth over status quo — the same abiding that saves you passively is the abiding you have to actively pursue for the rest of your life. All four values, same root. Jesus saves actively — his life, his death, his resurrection, nothing you contributed. What you do is abide in what he’s already done. What’s Next? The American experiment David gave a heads-up on the next series: Ecclesiastes, five weeks, timed to land around America’s 250th anniversary. He’s calling it “The American Experiment” — Solomon had every form of wealth, wisdom, and power available to a human being, ran the experiment, and reported back that none of it satisfies on its own. David’s read: that’s the same experiment a nation tries, generation after generation. Also in this episode Why Peter’s vision of the unclean animals in Acts 10 was its own kind of pruning — this time of his theology, not just his pride Micah 6:8 and the question “with what shall I come before the Lord” — the move from sacrifice to simply walking humbly Why 24 of the New Testament’s 27 books mention fruitfulness in the believer’s life Luke 22: Jesus telling Simon — not yet Peter — “I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail” What Does It Mean to Abide in Christ? In John 15:4, Jesus says, “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.” To abide means to remain, to stay connected — not a one-time decision but an ongoing relationship sustained through the Spirit, through Scripture, and through the church. It’s less a task to complete and more a connection to maintain, the way a branch stays attached to a vine simply by not detaching. What Does the Vine and Branches Passage in John 15 Mean? Jesus identifies himself as “the true vine” (John 15:1), a title loaded with Old Testament meaning since the vine was a national symbol for Israel. Jesus is saying he accomplishes what Israel as a nation couldn’t. The Father is the vinedresser who prunes branches so they bear more fruit, and removes branches that bear none. The image teaches that spiritual fruitfulness isn’t self-generated — it flows from staying connected to Christ, the way a branch’s life comes from the vine, not from the branch itself. What Does It Mean to Bear Fruit Spiritually? Bearing spiritual fruit means becoming more like Jesus in character, not simply doing more religious activity. Galatians 5:22-23 lists it directly: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Paul contrasts this with law-keeping — fruit isn’t earned through rule-following, it’s produced naturally by abiding in Christ, the same way grapes grow naturally on a healthy, connected branch. Why Did Jesus Rename Simon to Peter? In John 1:42, Jesus tells Simon, “You will be called Cephas” (Aramaic for Peter, meaning “rock”) — before Simon had done anything to earn that identity. Many interpreters see this as Jesus speaking a future reality into being rather than describing a present one: Peter spends the gospels working to live up to a name given in advance. The pattern shifts in Luke 22:31-32, where Jesus tells Simon his faith won’t fail — not because of effort, but because Jesus himself prayed for him. Is Abiding in Christ Passive or Active? Both, and Scripture holds the tension rather than resolving it. Salvation itself is passive — a gift received, not earned (Ephesians 2:8-9). But abiding, once saved, requires active pursuit: reading Scripture, praying, gathering with other believers, and according to 2 Peter 1:5-7, deliberately supplementing faith with virtue, knowledge, self-control, and the rest. The Mary and Martha story (Luke 10) is often used to illustrate this: Mary’s stillness at Jesus’s feet isn’t passivity — it’s active attention, just aimed at receiving rather than producing. Scripture referenced: John 15:1–17 • John 1:42 • Galatians 5:22–23 • Micah 6:8 • 2 Peter 1:3–7 • Luke 22:31–32 • Luke 10:38–42

Westside Gainesville

June 25, 2026 • 5 Minute Read
What Does the Bible Say About Christian Unity?
James and John once asked Jesus for the two best seats in the kingdom. A few decades later, John sits down to write his gospel and includes a prayer where Jesus asks the Father for something else entirely on behalf of people James and John would never meet. Us, two thousand years later, in Gainesville. This episode was recorded on Father’s Day, and it shows. Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin spend most of it on John 17:20–26 — the part of the prayer where Jesus shifts from praying for the eleven disciples in the room to praying for everyone who’d believe because of them. A PRAYER FOR GRANDCHILDREN Pastor David frames the shift simply: in verses 6–19, Jesus prays for his children — the eleven disciples. In verses 20–26, his attention turns to the grandchildren — everyone who would believe through the disciples’ testimony. That includes every believer who has ever lived since. What does Jesus pray for this future family? Not health, happiness, or a good job — the things most fathers instinctively pray for their kids. He prays for unity (“that they may be one”, repeated several times) and proximity (“that they also may be with me where I am” — John 17:24). One in unity here on earth. One with him in eternity forever. How can we pray for you? Let us know by clicking the button below.I need prayer THREE REASONS WE OVER ME MATTERS Pastor David draws three threads out of the passage. First, unity reflects the divine — when believers surrender their own desires for the good of others, they put God’s relational, self-giving nature on display. Second, unity reaches the world: “Make them one, Father, so that the world will know that you love me and that you sent me” (John 17:21,23). Disunity actively undercuts the testimony believers are trying to give. Third, unity recognizes our future — because we are guaranteed an eternal home with the Father, it becomes easier to sacrifice now, knowing the outcome is already secure. He illustrates the power of unified testimony with the World Cup: stadiums full of fans from Mexico, Scotland, and beyond singing their national anthems with total, unembarrassed unity — a single voice, completely given over to one allegiance. That, he says, is the kind of undivided allegiance God wants from the people he has called out for himself. TRANSFORMATIONAL DISCIPLESHIP IS RELATIONAL, NOT DIGITAL Richie’s sermon at Southwest leaned into discipleship as the practical outworking of we over me. His foundation: Romans 12:2 — don’t be conformed to the world, but transformed. Conformity is easy. Transformation is impossible apart from the power of God working through discipleship — and discipleship, he insists, has to be relational. You can’t get it from YouTube. He quotes Robert Coleman’s The Master Plan of Evangelism: God’s plan A was for the gospel to spread through ordinary people. There is no plan B. Jesus modeled this by narrowing his focus — from thousands, to twelve, to three, to one beloved disciple. Real discipleship happens life-on-life, shoulder-to-shoulder, one-on-one. Richie cites Brett McCracken’s Scrolling Ourselves to Death: the suicide rate among kids ages 10–24 has risen 62% since 2007 — the same year the iPhone debuted. His point isn’t that phones are evil, but that the digital age is actively pulling people away from the relational discipleship Jesus modeled and commanded.Connect in a Life Group A MISSION STATEMENT FOR FATHERS David highlights John 17:26 as a mission statement for dads: “I have made known your name to them, and will make it known, so that the love with which you loved me may be in them.” His hope for his own kids: to make God known to them through Christ so that the love he has experienced with God becomes the love they experience too. It is not a task to complete. It is a desire to be lived. Think of David, Solomon, and Rehoboam — a father trusting an imperfect son with everything, generation after generation. In John 17, God the Father entrusts everything to God the Son, who entrusts it to us. The trust runs all the way down to Gainesville, Florida, today. Theological Triage | What We Have to Agree On If unity matters so much, why are there so many denominations? Richie introduces Albert Mohler’s concept of theological triage — like a medical triage, doctrines are sorted by urgency. Primary doctrines are life-or-death: salvation by grace through faith in Christ alone, the deity of Christ, the resurrection. Pull out those pillars and the faith collapses entirely — it isn’t Christianity anymore. Secondary doctrines — like the mode of baptism — shape which church you join and disciple within, but don’t determine whether someone is a Christian. Tertiary doctrines, like views on the millennium, are things believers can disagree on while still worshipping together on a Sunday morning. Pastor David notes that in decades of ministry, he has rarely counseled anyone who struggled to become a Christian because of denominational differences — but he has met many who struggle because Christians don’t look different from the world.Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step

Westside Gainesville

May 14, 2026 • 4 Minute Read
What Does It Mean to Have the Mind of Christ?
Paul doesn’t just tell the Philippians to serve. He tells them to think differently first. Because if you get the mind right, the service follows. That’s the spine of Philippians 2 — and it’s the spine of this episode. This week, Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin go deep into Philippians 1:27–2:11 — Paul’s call to live as citizens of heaven, the Christ hymn and the kenosis doctrine, and what George Washington crossing the Delaware River has to do with the incarnation. Citizens of heaven | The Foundation The sermon’s launch point is Philippians 1:27 — “Let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ.” Paul is writing to a predominantly Roman church. These were Roman citizens. Suffering and humility were not virtues in their world — they were signs of weakness. Paul’s reframe is radical: you have a different citizenship now. And that citizenship comes with a different code. Richie connects it directly to service: the vertical relationship with Christ enables horizontal service to people. If you know the encouragement of Christ, the comfort of His love, the fellowship of the Spirit, then you can have the same mind as Jesus toward others. The vertical affects the horizontal. The Mandate, the Method, and the Models Pastor David structures Philippians 2 around three movements. The mandate: “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Phil. 2:4). Most problems, he says, are a counting problem — we’re counting abuses to ourselves instead of the needs of others. The method is a transformation of the mind. Paul doesn’t say try harder — he says change what you count. Count others. Die to self. The models are Christ himself, then Timothy (“there is no one like him who will be genuinely concerned for your welfare”), and Epaphroditus, who traveled to Philippi simply because he heard they were worried about his health. The key insight: we don’t want people to fill a slot of service. We want people to develop a mind. If you have the mind of Christ, the slots fill themselves. The CHRISt hymn and the kenosis Philippians 2:5–11 is believed by many scholars to be one of the earliest hymns of the Christian church, an oral tradition encapsulated in poetic form before the Gospels were written. It is among the most theologically significant passages in the New Testament. The passage describes three stages of humiliation: Jesus existed in the form (morphē) of God in full equality with the Father. He did not grasp at that equality but voluntarily emptied himself — the Greek word is kenōsis. He took on human form. And then he went further: obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Pastor David notes something critical: the Greek says he emptied himself — not that the Father emptied him. This was a voluntary act of submission between equals. You cannot be coerced into the mind of Christ. It has to come from within. The hymn doesn’t end with the cross. It ends with exaltation: God gives Jesus the name above every name, and at that name every knee will bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. Suffering unto death — then glory. That’s the pattern. And Paul says, "Have this same mind." What does it mean to have the mind of christ? In Philippians 2:5–11, Paul commands believers to “have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.” Having the mind of Christ means adopting his posture of voluntary, selfless humility — counting the needs and interests of others above your own. The passage describes how Jesus, though equal with God in every way, did not grasp at that equality but emptied himself (Greek: kenōsis), took on human form, and became obedient to death on a cross. This was not compelled submission but a voluntary act of love. To have the mind of Christ is to make the same voluntary choice — to lay down status, comfort, and self-interest in service to others — motivated not by obligation but by the same love that sent Jesus from heaven to earth.Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step

Westside Gainesville

May 7, 2026 • 4 Minute Read
How Do I Find My Spiritual Gift?
A lot of people are waiting for a sign. A burning bush. Some unmistakable confirmation from God before they commit to serving. Pastor David Chauncey has a direct word for that: it doesn’t work that way. This week on What We Didn’t Say on Sunday, Pastor David, freshly back from leading a group through the seven churches of Revelation in Turkey, joins Pastor Richie Baldwin to unpack 1 Corinthians 12 and the question every churchgoer eventually faces: where do I fit, and how do I find out? Why Interdependence Is the Design, Not the Backup Plan Pastor David’s first point from 1 Corinthians 12 goes all the way back to Genesis 2:18 — the first time in the creation narrative that God says something is not good. Not the darkness. Not the chaos. The first “not good” is that man should be alone. Interdependence isn’t a theological footnote. It’s written into the original design. Paul builds on that in 1 Corinthians 12 with the body analogy, using it almost comically. The hand can’t say to the foot, “I don’t need you.” The head can’t tell the feet to leave. Every part is necessary. And no one has been given all the spiritual gifts by design. Because if they had, the body wouldn’t need to be a body. The Danger of the 30% Church In most average Southern Baptist churches, only about 30% of members actively serve. Pastor David puts it plainly: imagine if only 30% of your body worked. You could train and develop that 30% all you want — you’d still exhaust them, and the body still wouldn’t function. This is what the Nicolaitans were pushing in the early church — a heresy called sacerdotalism: the idea that a special class of clergy does the real ministry while everyone else stays passive. Two of the seven churches in Revelation were warned about it. The same dynamic quietly kills the life of churches today. Pastor David’s response after decades in ministry: “You set me apart and financially support me to work this ministry full-time. You didn’t set me apart to give me your job.” How You Actually Find Your Spiritual Gift Pastor David has given spiritual gift tests for 30 years. His honest assessment: they’re barely scientific, much less spiritually authoritative. They’re a starting point, not a destination. God is not going to burn a bush for you in your backyard and announce your spiritual gift. It bubbles up as you obey Scripture — as you love one another, make disciples, and serve. On the team is where it manifests. You try things. You make mistakes. Others in your Life Group see gifts in you before you do. That’s not a bug in the system. That’s the system. The story of John Mark is the clearest biblical example. He failed completely on the first missionary journey with Paul and Barnabas. Paul refused to take him back. But John Mark eventually found his gifting became a close friend of Peter, wrote the first gospel, and later Paul himself says in Colossians: “send John Mark to me, he is of use to me.” You don’t find your gift and then serve. You serve, and the gift finds you. How do I find my spiritual gift? According to 1 Corinthians 12, spiritual gifts are given by the Holy Spirit for the building up of the body of Christ. The Bible does not teach that believers should wait for a supernatural sign before serving. Instead, spiritual gifts are discovered through active participation in the church community — they manifest as believers obey Scripture by loving one another, making disciples, and serving on a team. Others in the community often identify gifts in a person before that person recognizes them in themselves. Spiritual gift inventories and tests can be a helpful starting point but are not spiritually authoritative. The story of John Mark in Acts and Colossians 4:10 illustrates the biblical pattern: he failed on the mission field, found his true gifting through accountability and community, and ultimately became useful to both Paul and Peter.Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step

Westside Gainesville

April 30, 2026 • 4 Minute Read
The Wrong Way to Be Great (and What Jesus Said Instead)
James and John pulled Jesus aside and made their request privately: they wanted the two seats of honor in His kingdom. One on the right, one on the left. It’s one of the most awkward moments in the Gospels and one of the most revealing. In this episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday, Pastor Richie Baldwin is joined by Westside’s Ministries and Administration Pastor Zach Allen to dig deep into Mark 10:32–45: the disciples’ wrong view of greatness, the historical context that explains their confusion, and the verse that Jesus lands the entire conversation on. Why james and john got greatness wrong The disciples were measuring greatness by the wrong standard, the same one the world still uses. Championships. Status. Position. Who’s in the cabinet when the new king takes over? But their confusion wasn’t random. It was historically grounded. Richie and Zach walk through the story of Judas Maccabeus — the Jewish military hero who, around 165 BC, led a revolt against Antiochus Epiphanes, retook the temple, and became the greatest figure in recent Jewish memory. Maccabeus means “hammer.” He was the closest thing the Jewish people had seen to a conquering deliverer. And so when Jesus began talking about the Kingdom of God, the disciples layered that Maccabean framework over everything He said. They were waiting for Jesus to do what Maccabeus did, only bigger. Jesus had already told them three times that He was going to be handed over, crucified, and rise on the third day. They weren’t ignoring Him. They just couldn’t make it fit the framework they had. A kingdom doesn’t start with the king’s execution. The Cup, the Baptism, and the Cost They Didn’t Understand When Jesus asks James and John if they can drink the cup He’s about to drink and be baptized with the baptism He’s about to undergo, they answer immediately: “We are able.” They had no idea what they were agreeing to. Zach unpacks the depth of that exchange: suffering is built into the call. Not always martyrdom, sometimes it’s getting up early, clearing your calendar, showing up when it’s inconvenient. But kingdom service was never designed to be comfortable. It is always connected to the cross. And then there’s the haunting detail in Mark 10:40, “to sit at my right or my left is not mine to grant.” The commentaries are divided: Is Jesus submitting to the Father’s authority in the roles of the Trinity? Or is this foreshadowing? Because when the crucifixion comes, Mark records that Jesus hung on the cross with criminals at His right and His left. John was standing there. The same John who had asked for that seat. WHAT KINGDOM GREATNESS ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE Jesus lands the entire passage on one verse: “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). The Greek word for ransom is lytron, a price paid to purchase someone out of slavery. Jesus wasn’t just modeling servant leadership. He was purchasing people out of sin and death. Kingdom greatness is never demanded. It’s never self-declared. It’s not measured by followers, titles, or platforms. It’s measured by how willing you are to take the lowest seat and serve the person in front of you from a motivation rooted entirely in the gospel. Not self-bragging power, but self-sacrificial empowerment. What does the bible say about greatness? According to Jesus in Mark 10:42–45, the world measures greatness through power, authority, and status — but kingdom greatness works in reverse. Jesus told His disciples that whoever wants to be great must be a servant, and whoever wants to be first must be a slave of all. He grounded this in His own example: “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). Biblical greatness is never self-declared or demanded. It is expressed through servant leadership, motivated by the gospel, and measured by willingness to take the lowest seat.Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step

Westside Gainesville

April 23, 2026 • 4 Minute Read
What Jesus Did at the Last Supper That Nobody Was Expecting | John 13
It was the night of the Passover meal. Jerusalem was packed. The disciples had found a room and gathered with Jesus for what would become one of the most significant evenings in human history. And then Jesus did something nobody in that room saw coming. He got up from the table, took off his outer robe, wrapped a towel around his waist, and started washing his disciples’ feet. In this episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday, Beau Martin and Southwest Campus Pastor Richie Baldwin go deep into John 13 — unpacking what that moment meant in its cultural context, what Peter’s refusal reveals about how we misunderstand serving, and why the answer Jesus gave that night changes everything about why we serve today. Why FOOT WASHING WAS SO SHOCKING To understand what Jesus did, you have to understand what foot washing meant in first-century Jewish culture. It was reserved for the lowest servant in a household — almost always a Gentile, never a Jew, and absolutely never a rabbi. Guests would bathe before a Passover meal but their feet would get dirty walking to the house. A servant would be waiting to wash them at the door. Richie also walks through the physical setting most people get wrong. The disciples weren’t sitting at a long table like the Leonardo da Vinci painting. They were reclining on their sides around a Roman triclinium — a low U-shaped table — which is why John 13:23 describes John lying against Jesus. It’s an intimate, close setting. And in the middle of it, the Son of God gets on the floor with a basin of water. John frames the entire moment with one sentence: “Having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.” This wasn’t a duty. It was love, all the way down. WHAT PETER GOT WRONG AND WHAT IT REVEALS ABOUT US When Jesus came to Peter, Peter refused. Loudly. In the Greek, his refusal is far stronger than most English translations capture — he says Jesus will never wash his feet “into the eon,” into eternity. It’s a sweeping, absolute rejection. Jesus’ answer is equally direct: “If I don’t wash you, you have no share with me.” Richie unpacks what that exchange reveals: Peter wanted to do something for Jesus. He thought serving Jesus was the point. But Jesus was showing him that everything starts with receiving what Jesus came to do — not the other way around. We don’t serve Christ. Christ serves us. And because He serves us, we obey. That order matters enormously. Are you serving god or serving for god? Beau asks the question that every person in ministry eventually faces: how do you know if your motivation is right? How do you cross from working for God to truly serving for God? Richie’s answer goes straight to 1 John 5:3: “His commandments are not burdensome.” When serving comes from love — from a genuine response to what Christ has already done — it isn’t a burden. The nursery worker holding a crying baby for two hours who says “I love this” isn’t performing. She’s got the motivation right. The practical test: before you serve with your hands and feet, check your heart. If your heart isn’t in it, pray. Ask God to change your motivation. A God who tells you to serve is also generous enough to help you want to. What DID jesus do at the last supper that nobody was expecting? At the Last Supper, Jesus rose from the meal, removed his outer garments, wrapped a towel around his waist, and washed his disciples’ feet — an act so counter-cultural it would have shocked everyone present. In first-century Jewish culture, foot washing was reserved for the lowest servant in a household, never a peer and never a rabbi. Jesus did it anyway, including washing the feet of Judas, who he knew would betray him within hours. John 13:1 frames the entire moment: “Having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.” Jesus then commanded his followers to do the same, teaching that greatness in the Kingdom of God is measured by willingness to serve, not by status (John 13:14–17).Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step

Westside Gainesville