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.
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Modern Religion — Custom-Built Faith
Sociologists call this “Quest Culture.”
Everyone is on a journey.
Everyone is exploring.
Everyone is curating meaning.
Even our car names reflect it: Explorer, Odyssey, Pathfinder, Expedition, Adventure.
Nobody drives a Rambler anymore.
We don’t ramble; we quest.
This quest reveals itself in DIY spirituality.
One sociologist interviewed a young nurse named Sheila. Sheila said:
> “I believe in God, but I follow my own way.
My faith has carried me a long way.
I call it Sheila-ism.
My religion is loving myself and being gentle with myself.”
Well, nobody’s building a cathedral to Sheila-ism.
No missionary is crossing oceans to preach “Be gentle with yourself.”
No martyr is dying for “Sheila’s truth.”
And yet it appeals. Why?
Because self-made faith never confronts you.
Never challenges you.
Never convicts you.
Never sanctifies you.
Never calls you to repentance.
Never asks you to surrender.
A self-designed religion will always agree with you—until the moment you need a God bigger than yourself.
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Paul in Athens — A First-Century Netflix of Gods
This problem is not new.
Paul encountered the same culture in Athens.
Athens was the intellectual capital of the world—philosophers, poets, scholars, thinkers.
But it was also the religious buffet of the ancient world.
Temples on every street.
Altars on every corner.
Statues to dozens of gods—Zeus, Apollo, Athena, Dionysus.
And just in case they missed one—they built an altar:
“To an Unknown God.”
Athens was the spiritual Netflix of its day.
Scroll through the gods.
Pick the one that matches your tastes.
Build your own playlist of deities.
Paul steps into that world and says:
> “Men of Athens, I see that you are very religious.
But the God you worship without knowing—
this is the One I proclaim to you.”
He didn’t offer another option.
He proclaimed the only option.
The true God.
The Creator.
The Judge.
The Savior.
The risen Christ.
And friends—that is exactly what our world needs today.
Not another choice.
Not another filter.
Not another option on the shelf.
We need the God who actually exists.
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Five Pictures of God — Paul’s Sermon in Athens
Paul gives us five truths about God—five pictures that cut through confusion.
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1. The Globe — God the Creator
Paul begins:
> “The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth.”
You did not create God.
God created you.
You don’t define Him.
He defines you.
Paul adds:
> “In Him we live and move and have our being.”
Your existence flows from Him.
Your breath.
Your thoughts.
Your personality.
Your gifts.
The most brilliant minds on earth create technology—but none can create a single atom from nothing.
God is the Creator—and because He created you, He wants to be known.
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2. The Scales — God the Judge
Paul continues:
> “He has set a day when He will judge the world with justice.”
Justice is not a human invention—it is divine longing.
Our hearts cry out for justice because we were created by a just God.
But His justice is not “better than average.”
Not “good intentions.”
Not “I tried.”
His standard is holiness.
And none of us qualify.
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3. The Lifeline — God the Savior
That’s why the gospel is not advice—
it is rescue.
God didn’t send a life coach, a philosopher, or a spiritual influencer.
He sent a Savior.
People say, “Look in the mirror—there is your savior.”
No there isn’t.
There is the one you need saving from—yourself.
We cannot climb to God.
So God came down to us.
Jesus is not one path among many.
He is the lifeline thrown into the storm.
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4. The One-Way Sign — God the Only Way
Jesus said:
> “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
No one comes to the Father except through Me.”
Not a way.
The way.
Not a truth.
The truth.
Not a life.
The life.
This is not narrow.
It is merciful.
God says, “There is one way because only one way works.”
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5. The ABC Blocks — Our Response
Paul ends with a call to repentance.
I summarize it with the ABCs:
A — Acknowledge your sin.
B — Believe in Christ’s death and resurrection.
C — Commit your life to Him as Lord.
Not complicated—but life-altering.
Simple enough for a child, profound enough for a scholar.
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Closing Narrative — The One Book Left Behind
I want to leave you with one last picture.
Not long after that bookstore experience, I was called to visit an elderly man in a hospital. The room was dim, lit by a single fluorescent light. Machines beeped gently. He lay there, frail, thin, his hands folded neatly over the blanket.
As I sat beside him, my eyes fell on the stack of books on his bedside table.
A meditation guide.
A manifestation journal.
A book on ancestral energies.
One titled “Create Your Own Reality.”
I recognized every single book.
I had seen each one on that bookstore table.
Young people devoured them.
But sitting beneath them was a fifth book.
Small.
Worn.
Its leather cracked.
The pages yellowed with time.
A Bible.
He saw me looking at it.
He reached out with trembling fingers, rested his hand on the cover, and whispered,
“Pastor… I’ve read all those other books. They made big promises. They told me I had power inside of me. They told me the universe would listen. They told me I could create my destiny.”
He paused.
A tear slid down his cheek.
“But none of them helped me when the doctor said I was dying.”
He tapped the Bible with two slow, reverent touches.
“This one…
This one talks back to me.
This one tells me Who holds my life—
and Who holds my future.”
He looked at me with raw honesty and said,
“I don’t want to die with a pile of empty promises on my nightstand.
I want to die holding hope.”
He closed his eyes.
“Pastor… I’m hungry.
And I finally know where the real bread is.”
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The Appeal — What Will You Hang Your Eternity On?
My friends, that man discovered what those teenagers never saw:
There is only one table that feeds the soul.
Only one God who satisfies.
Only one Savior who saves.
So I ask you:
What will you hang your eternity on?
TikTok trends?
Manifestation rituals?
Crystals and energies?
An altar “to an unknown God”?
A self-made religion built out of preferences?
Or the Savior who died and rose again?
He is not a flavor on the buffet.
He is the bread of life.
He is not a spiritual option.
He is the Way.
He is not an energy.
He is Lord.
And He is calling your name.
Today.
Not someday.
Today.
Will you acknowledge?
Will you believe?
Will you commit?
Will you trust Him?
Because the God Paul proclaimed in Athens is the same God standing before you now—
Creator, Judge, Savior, and the only Way home.
