Think about how much effort the world puts into selling. We have acronyms for everything. ABC means Always Be Closing. AIDA walks a customer from attention to action. BANT qualifies a lead by budget, authority, need, and timing. We track KPIs, watch the pipeline, chase quarterly quotas, and log every conversation in a CRM so no opportunity slips away. People wake up at 5 a.m. to make cold calls, rehearse their pitch in the mirror, and lose sleep over a number on a spreadsheet. Whole philosophies and careers have been built over centuries around one goal, which is getting more.
There’s real discipline in that, and some of it is impressive. But every so often I stop and ask what it’s all for. Solomon, who had more wealth than almost anyone who ever lived, looked at everything he had built and wrote, “Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 1:2). Jesus put it even more directly: “For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Matthew 16:26). That’s a question no sales training ever covers.
So here’s the what if that’s been on my mind. What if we took that same obsession and desperation and pointed it toward eternity? Imagine someone who woke up every morning with the hunger of the top performer in the office, except the quota wasn’t revenue, it was souls. Imagine believers who knew the Word the way a good salesman knows his product, ready “to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15). Imagine churches that followed up with a lonely visitor as faithfully as a company follows up on a hot lead. Most of us would never walk into a client meeting unprepared, yet we walk through life unprepared to explain the one thing that matters most.
Jesus actually told a story about this. In Luke 16, a dishonest manager about to lose his job got creative and worked fast to secure his future. Then Jesus said something surprising: “the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light” (Luke 16:8). People chasing money often show more urgency and planning than people who claim to be chasing God. That verse convicts me every time. If someone can be that focused on a commission check that will be spent by next month, what does it say about us when we’re casual about eternity?
But here’s where the heavenly salesman would be completely different. He wouldn’t actually be selling anything. The world’s sales model is built on getting something from you. The gospel is built on giving something to you. Isaiah described it as an invitation to “buy wine and milk without money and without price” (Isaiah 55:1), and Paul wrote that salvation is “the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9). There’s no budget to qualify and no contract to sign. The price was already paid. His motivation wouldn’t be a bonus or a plaque. It would be love, the kind that cares more about the person in front of him than the outcome.
I don’t think God asks us to drop our drive or ambition. He asks us to reconsider where it’s pointed. “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt… But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven” (Matthew 6:19-20). I’m asking myself that as much as anyone reading this. I work hard, set goals, and track progress. But if someone looked at my life the way a manager looks at a sales report, what would they see about my priorities? Imagine if we treated eternity with the same seriousness we treat our next promotion. I can’t help thinking the world would look very different, and maybe that change starts with me.