The Book That Broke Nothing—It Confirmed Everything Part 2 – The Architecture of the Infinite

If Ecclesiastes were just about life “under the sun,” it would be a quaint piece of wisdom literature, filed away and forgotten. But Solomon doesn’t stop at what we see — he keeps pulling the camera back until you’re looking at the machinery that keeps the whole thing running. And that is just in the first few pages...

He talks about the rain cycle, the wind, rivers running endlessly into the sea without ever filling it. Not as new discoveries, but as constants he already understood. 2,700 years ago. It doesn’t read like trial-and-error science. It reads like someone who knew the schematics.

That’s when it hit me — this isn’t just poetry. It’s mechanical precision. And it’s pointing at something deeper: the systems themselves have a layer under them. A layer that holds them.

Call it the sustaining hand of God, the Word that spoke and still speaks, the binding force that never relaxes. Creation isn’t a clock wound up and left to tick — it’s a song that never stops playing because the Singer never stops singing.

Physics tells you how the notes move.

Ecclesiastes tells you why they’re still in tune.

And here’s what most miss: that same layered architecture is in us. Systems → organs → cells → molecules → atoms → particles → something smaller still, something we can’t yet name. Each layer exists because something above and below it keeps it in place. Yet logic would dictate that ultimately something has to hold all of that together too. But if it has to be the stopgap on something that never ends- it breaks all the rules we just looked at. That has to be God.

This means you’re already infinite in design — not eternal in time, but infinite in structure. You are a living echo of the same mechanics Solomon described in nature, and God demonstrates in existence.

And here’s where that leads: death isn’t the end of that layering. Our humanity lives on in our children. Our bodies return to the soil that feeds the same cycles we were once made from. And the energy that animated us — all those infinite smaller parts — reenters the great framework, becoming part of the very glue that holds it all. Maybe it even rides the edge of the universe, in that frontier where new creation is still unfolding. Perhaps that is being one with God- perhaps finally being part of new is Heaven.

There’s “nothing new under the sun” because we’re not at that edge. But when we step beyond the sun, who’s to say our pieces won’t be woven into what is new?

Part 3 is where we stop looking at the machine from the outside and start asking: How do we live differently knowing we’re already part of an infinite system that doesn’t stop when we do?