Sam Bankman Fried and Kingdom Economics.

Billions looted from his own company.

We have Christ's seventy times seven sacrificial forgiveness.

We have Pastor George's hundredfold return.

We have Christ feeding the Five Thousand.

The larder fed the prophet from the bottom of the barrel, and from then onwards, the woman and boy never went hungry.

Call it a ripple effect, or the butterfly effect, how things compound: how the echo carries, the savings account builds interest, inflation creeps.

Sam Bankman Fried could take one customer's loaves and fishes, say enough for one or two, and turn it into a luxury yacht or a summer home in some exotic locale.  And how?  Process.  Mass processing, batch-processing of thousands of individual customers.

He wanted what they had.

It was compulsion, maybe, just as Solomon had stacked riches in many forms only to later find that it didn't matter much, after all, after the time was wasted.  He was a Matthew McCechny of old, finding fame and wealth only to discover that he had only his time to make some use of, and not money or yachts which ultimately brought no enjoyment.

The modern kind of void: not Victor Frankl In Search Of A Soul, but something conditioned in the modern world of creeping inflation and stock valuations, the growth-at-any-cost and pay-as-you-go accounting.  Why, modern economics mimics the hungry little phenomenon of inflation.

Some would tell the story of the Dream Home that they pray for.  First renting and somewhat poor, then undergoing payments on the next level, until finally, what for the time passes as a dream home and took-up cash on the barrelhead, without any sort of payments.

Increase.

But look back at Christ and forgiveness.

A bit of sacrifice, it is, to let your brother slap your face seventy times seven times.  Its a hard lesson that few master; nevermind the churches rarely stand full, but even the remnant there as it is hasn't quite pulled the lesson sufficiently.

That even the sacrifice ripples and compounds, from Christ's sacrifice until today.

It's like the fields, were there are gradients of invasive foliage: the old tales of Britain without trees, or the scrub-oaks, things like ivy, or even viruses and things.  Man, himself, even, a kind of scourge on the earth that multiplies, given the right environmentals.

And the church.  There was one.  Then Twelve.  So on.  And from there the message was commanded to be taken across the globe.  Why, some even say that the true believer himself is only flock to Christ, but to the layman, the believer is a pastor, a product evangelist of love and mercy.

A classic pyramid scheme of joy, peace, hope and mercy.  Stuffing envelopes and flim-flamming to the betterment of everyone.