A Pyramid Scheme
“That’s a pyramid scheme!” said I after allowing some trusted friends to enter under our roof.
The reply was something I’d never heard of before. “No, it’s Network Marketing,” they retorted, confidently offering assurance of their integrity.
That was ages ago, but every so oft, the memories of those days, albeit short lived, come to the surface and I ponder. I ponder at what made us believe them, and the only thing I can come up with is that we trusted. We trusted those who entered our home, and we were naïve enough to not see through the prosperity gospel being presented.
Does this mean the people presenting were not trustworthy? No. They believed with all their might that we might gain from what they had to offer. In the end, we bowed out. Why? We realized that we were more content with what we had before listening to the giddy-up-and-go messages being sent.
We began to challenge the mantra. “Make your children the reason—not the excuse!” In other words, GO—into all the world and share the good news that you, too, may buy and sell, so others may buy and sell; and the more you buy in, the more you sell, and the more you go and show, the more you gain, and on and on it went. “Slide on down the pyramid to land where no man has gone before” was the message being sent. Basically, you could make money by putting your kids on hold until you could make it big in a world which lavished upon us all of the riches we never even knew we wanted!
It was the glitter and glow event that sort of put a stop to it all. Yup, we drove all the way to Iowa for a “rally” of sorts. Turned out that the very thing we’d questioned back home at the ranch was actually the reality of what stood in front of us. Our question? “Is this the big ‘A’ company?” The banners were all over the room in which we stood. Awards were given, people on stage whooped and hollered as the glam of success walked across. Yet, the resounding answer we received from our “trusted” friends was, “No, they just let us come to their rallies, we are ‘Network Marketing.’”
Was it the fact we’d been hoodwinked that sort of grew legs that day? And if so—how so? After the late-night drive home, rounding a nearly missed curve brought home the realization of our children tucked in bed and how we could have ended it all on some country road in Iowa—trying to climb a pyramid—which supposedly was nowhere to be seen.
It took me a while to recover from what I felt was betrayal—being used or flat out lied to—but it also made me more keenly aware of the how purity of heart must enter into decision making. Apparently, my heart wasn’t all that pure if I was that gullible to begin with. As our son would say, it’s the “inner-sinner” lurking within that makes the sanctification process of becoming saints ongoing this side of the veil.
In other words, nobody’s perfect. Not me, not my neighbor, and least of all, not this world. So, in the meantime, as we live in the world but not of it, what do we do? I suppose we merely do what is required. And what is that we might ask? Micah 6:8 spells it out: “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Amen.
Kathleen Kjolhaug, Theology in the Trenches
Photo: Stock photograph of money piles.
