We're obsessed with the "next best thing." It's just how we're wired; we want to maximize, optimize, and improve until we've squeezed every bit of efficiency out of a system. As a business student, I see this everywhere. We're taught that stagnation is the enemy. If we aren't implementing a new method or "disrupting" an industry, we're falling behind. But have you noticed how often our innovations just lead us back to where we started? It's a bit of a cycle, isn't it?
Take streaming services, for example. We were told they were the "cable killers." No more ads; no more bloated packages; just pure freedom for a low monthly fee. It felt like progress. Fast forward to today, and the terrain looks suspiciously familiar. Prices are hiking; ads are returning to the "budget" tiers; and account sharing is becoming a relic of the past. To get the same variety we used to have, we now need five different subscriptions. Are we actually better off, or did we just trade one gatekeeper for another? At what point do we finally draw a line?
We do the same thing with our personal lives and our communities. The local church was once about the personal. The goal was to know and establish a relationship with its members; it was about holding each other accountable so that God could do what He needs to do. Then, human nature gets in the way. Judgment creeps in; people get hurt; and suddenly, the smallness feels suffocating.
So, we pivot. We head toward the "mega" versions of these institutions, hoping for a more professional or polished experience. But there’s a trade-off there, too. Sometimes, in the quest to scale up, the heart of the thing gets lost. The ministry becomes a business model; the connection becomes a transaction. We’re constantly trying to optimize our way into a better version of reality, but we often end up further away from the "Ground Zero" that actually mattered.
We should acknowledge that our nature will always pull us toward "more." However, maybe the real growth happens when we’re willing to look past the subscriptions and the noise to find what is actually true.
I'm not writing this to be religious. On the contrary, I want to make you think about what really matters to you. I truly believe Jesus Christ has the answers to the greatest questions we have in our minds. In the end, nothing else does.
What are you actually chasing? Is it better, or is it just more?