Gods R Us

Opening Narrative — The Empty Shelf

I was in a bookstore not long ago—one of those big ones where the scent of coffee hits you before you even step through the doors. I’d stopped in to find a Bible commentary. Something quiet. Something theological. The kind of book you expect to find tucked away in the back corner where few people wander anymore.

But on my way toward the religious section, I noticed a crowd gathered around a brightly lit display in the very center of the store. A whole group of teenagers—maybe twenty of them—huddled together, pointing things out, trading books, flipping pages with excited energy.

I thought to myself, What are they all so excited about?

So I walked closer.

Crystals.

Spell books.

Beginner witchcraft kits.

Tarot cards.

Moon-phase journals.

Energy guides.

Manifestation workbooks.

And it wasn’t fringe or obscure.

It was the featured display.

Front and center.

Eye level.

Promoted like it was the next big thing—which, in our culture, it is.

I stood there watching these kids load their arms with books that promised power, clarity, confidence—books that taught them how to summon energy, connect with ancestors, align their vibrations, and visualize their destiny.

But I didn’t feel judgment.

I didn’t shake my head.

I didn’t sigh.

I felt sadness.

Not because they were rebellious.

Not because they were dabbling.

But because they were hungry.

Deeply hungry. Hungry in their souls.

They weren’t seeking darkness.

They were seeking direction.

They were looking for comfort, identity, reassurance, control—things every human heart aches for.

And then I looked at the shelf right next to the one they were emptying.

A whole row of Bibles.

Devotionals.

Books about Jesus.

Books about grace.

Books about hope.

Books about forgiveness.

Books that point to life, truth, and salvation.

Untouched.

Unopened.

Unconsidered.

They walked away carrying armfuls of spell books…

and the shelf of Scripture was full.

And standing there in that aisle, I thought:

Every soul is hungry.

The only question is—

what table are we eating from?

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Introduction — Hungry Souls in a Searching World

This morning I want to talk about the spiritual hunger in our world. There’s no question about it—people are searching. They are restless. They are spiritually famished. Our human spirits are wired to crave the spiritual. The question has never been whether people seek. The question is: what table are we eating from?

Everywhere you look, spirituality is trending.

You can find shelves full of books aimed at teens that teach witchcraft, spellcasting, crystals, and manifestation. It’s marketed as harmless, empowering—“just folklore,” “just fun.” And yet, behind it all is a profound hunger. A desire for control. A longing for identity. A reach for meaning.

Scroll TikTok for ten minutes. Spirituality has become a marketplace. I watched one clip that had millions of views—called the 17-Second Manifestation Method. The claim was remarkably simple:

Focus intensely for seventeen seconds on what you want.

Repeat a positive affirmation.

And the universe will restructure itself to give it to you.

Seventeen seconds.

A spiritual vending machine.

A cosmic shortcut.

Now, reflection is good. Mindfulness can be helpful. But can seventeen seconds change your eternity? Can a spiritual hack carry you through grief, sin, loss, death, and judgment? Can a technique hold your life when everything falls apart?

We live in a world of spiritual smorgasbords.

A little of this.

A dab of that.

Mix some crystals with a mantra, sprinkle in a Bible verse, add a dose of good vibes, stir in a zodiac reading, and top it with a TikTok ritual.

A build-it-yourself faith.

A custom-made religion.

A spirituality shaped by preference, convenience, and comfort.

But here’s the danger:

When you build your own religion, you become your own god.

And that is a weight no human soul can carry.

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Smorgasbord Culture — The Buffet Mindset of Our Age

This buffet mentality is not limited to spirituality—it’s how our culture lives.

Remember family dinners?

One menu.

One meal.

You ate what was served.

Today?

It’s a global food court.

Everyone orders what they want, when they want, however they want.

Entertainment is no different.

Some of you remember when TV had three major channels.

Now we have thousands.

And people spend more time scrolling through options than actually watching anything.

That mindset has spilled directly into faith.

“You believe what works for you, and I’ll believe what works for me.”

“Your truth is yours; my truth is mine.”

“I’m spiritual but not religious.”

“I do the universe.”

“I follow my energy.”

“I create my own reality.”

But here’s the question:

Does truth work that way?

If my truth and your truth contradict each other—are they both true?

You can’t walk off a cliff believing gravity doesn’t exist.

You can’t build eternity on preference.

And yet, our culture tries.