In today’s world, Mammon – once the symbol of wealth and material obsession – has taken on new and less obvious forms. It’s no longer just about chasing money. It’s about chasing more: the dream of success, the pull of consumer culture, the ever-present siren’s call of comfort and distraction. Mammon now wears many faces, and most of them look perfectly normal.
To figure out who – or what – we really serve, we have to look closely at these desires and ask what they’re doing to us, not just on the surface, but deep down in our spiritual and moral core.
Traditionally, Mammon has been shorthand for greed and the worship of material wealth. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus draws a hard line: “You cannot serve both God and Mammon.” It’s a clear warning about the tug-of-war between spiritual focus and worldly temptation – and that constant pulling back and forth is still in our lives today. It makes one wonder – what really drives our choices? A higher purpose, or the all too common, even obsessively promoted, desire to get ahead?
Take the American Dream, for instance. It began as a hopeful ideal – freedom, opportunity, a better life. But for many, it’s morphed into a treadmill: endless striving, longer hours, bigger bills, and the constant sense that you’re still not there yet. We pour ourselves into work, chase the next milestone, upgrade our lives piece by piece – and still feel vaguely empty. Is that dream guiding us, or are we serving it?
Consumerism only adds fuel to the out of control fire that is our own desire. We’re constantly told – subtly and not so subtly – that our happiness depends on what we buy. Ads sell us problems we didn’t know we had, then offer us stuff to fix them. It’s a never-ending loop of want, get, repeat. In the process, we start measuring ourselves by our possessions, not our character. We become players in someone else’s economic game.
And then there’s distraction – the quietest master of them all. Social media, streaming shows, games, news feeds – it’s all designed to keep us busy and numb. We’re entertained into complacency, encouraged to scroll past the big questions. The less we think about who we are or what we’re doing here, the easier it is for all these invisible masters to do their work unchecked.
Breaking free from this system doesn’t necessitate a monk-like renouncing of the world. But it does call for a different kind of attention. We have to ask ourselves: What do I really want? Who am I becoming? Are my choices mine, or are they being made for me by habit, fear, or culture?
Living with more awareness – more intentionality – is where the shift begins. It might mean learning to be content with less, or choosing relationships and experiences over things. It might mean building in time for silence, for gratitude, for depth. None of this is flashy. But it’s in these quiet choices that we start reclaiming our freedom.
And just as important, we need each other. Real community – where people share life, support one another, and work toward something bigger than themselves – is a powerful counter to the isolating effects of individualism. It helps us to remember that we’re not just consumers or competitors – we’re human beings, bound up in something shared and sacred.
The truth is, modern life offers plenty of would-be masters. The trick is recognizing them before they’ve taken hold. Whether it’s the constant grind for success, the seduction of stuff, or the passive drift into distraction, these forces shape us in ways we don’t always notice.
But we can choose differently. Through reflection, simplicity, and connection, we begin to remember who we are – and who we want to be. In doing so, we create space for something deeper: a life anchored not in the shallow promises of Mammon, but in purpose, presence, and love.
Join us in making the world a better place – you’ll be glad that you did. Cheers friends.