What Business Are You In?

"I'm in the empire business."

That's Walter White, the chemistry teacher turned drug kingpin from Breaking Bad. He's offered $5 million to walk away from his criminal enterprise. Enough money to accomplish everything he originally claimed he was working toward. But he refuses. Turns out, providing for his family was no longer the point. He wanted an empire.

I think we're all a little more like Walter White than we'd care to admit. We call it financial security, public service, community leadership, or even advancing God's kingdom. But how often are we really just building something for ourselves?

Everybody Wants a Throne

I've been working through the Bible with my kids, front to back, and we recently finished 1st and 2nd Samuel and 1st and 2nd Kings.

If you haven't read these books lately, you're missing quite the political drama. Corruption, murder, adultery, betrayal, and enough dysfunctional families to make reality television look wholesome.

The Israelites demand a king because they want to be like everyone else. God warns them that earthly kings will take their wealth, property, and even their children to serve their own ambitions.

They insist anyway.

Saul disobeys God. David abuses his authority. Solomon accumulates extraordinary wealth and influence before turning toward false gods. Eventually, the kingdom fractures and both Israel and Judah fall.

But one episode really stuck with me.

After David commits adultery with Bathsheba and arranges her husband's death, the prophet Nathan tells him a story about a wealthy man stealing a poor man's only lamb.

David’s furious. He demands justice.

Nathan responds, "You are the man!" (2 Samuel 12:7).

David could recognize wickedness perfectly well, provided somebody else was committing it.

And isn't that something we're still pretty good at?

Business Is Booming

The midterms are behind us, but the appetite for power certainly isn't.

By late October, more than $11 billion in political advertising had aired or been reserved. An incredible amount of money spent convincing Americans who deserves the privilege of serving them.

I wonder how much of that was actually about service.

We demand integrity from politicians we oppose while making excuses for the ones we support. We insist on accountability right up until someone on our side is held accountable.

Apparently our principles have party affiliations.

But Washington doesn't have a monopoly on hypocrisy. We've got plenty of little empires right here in Watertown.

The businessman who claims he's sacrificing everything for his family ought to ask why his family only gets the leftovers.

The community leader who claims to serve the public ought to explain why disagreement feels like a personal attack.

And the father building generational wealth ought to consider whether he's passing down opportunity or teaching his children to worship money.

I'm not above any of this. But I've been asking myself whether my ambitions are serving my responsibilities, or slowly replacing them.

Because sometimes we're serving others. Other times we're serving ourselves and sending everyone else the bill.

Even the Pulpit Has a Throne

And since we're making everyone uncomfortable, let's talk about the church.

Televangelist Jim Bakker died in October. His legacy included building a multimillion-dollar Christian television empire, complete with a theme park, before scandals and fraud convictions brought it crashing down.

It's easy to dismiss Bakker as an extreme example.

But you don't need a private jet or a megachurch to build yourself a kingdom. A congregation of 100 people and an oversized ego will do just fine.

A pastor starts measuring success by attendance rather than faithfulness. A church board worries more about protecting reputations than confronting wrongdoing. Congregational giving becomes an institutional scoreboard.

And before long, questioning the pastor's decisions is treated like questioning God's authority.

Now, I have enormous respect for faithful pastors. Their work is difficult, often thankless, and incredibly important.

But the pulpit isn't a personal platform. The congregation isn't a customer base. And the Gospel certainly isn't a product for building somebody's brand.

Yet we've somehow confused bigger buildings, larger congregations, and charismatic personalities with spiritual success.

When did we start measuring God's kingdom with the same scoreboard as corporate America?

Jesus Christ offered a different picture of kingship. He didn't demand that others die to protect his kingdom. He died to save his people.

That's the Gospel. Our salvation doesn't come from our accomplishments, influence, or good works. It's God's gift through Christ, received by grace through faith.

And that ought to change what we're building, why we're building it, and who gets the glory.

The Bottom Line

God's kingdom already has a King. He doesn't need another one competing for his throne, whether in Washington, the boardroom, the pulpit, or my own household.

So, what business are you really in?

Invitation to Connect: Did this column spark a thought, question, or critique? I want to hear it! Send your inquiry to thekobatcorner@gmail.com