Purpose of
Life on Earth

Everyone sits under something.

Most people never chose what sits above them. They inherited it. A roof. A debt. A title someone else assigned. Born into a system that measures worth by what is earned and schedules hours before the earner wakes.

Every living person, from the first breath to the last, reaches for the same thing: security.

The baby cries because it wants security, the homeless man begs because he wants security, the greedy man hoards because he desires security. The soldier fights because he seeks it. The mother makes decisions because she seeks it.

The life inside us was designed to live forever, but it cries out for security because we live in a fallen state.

Not for safety. Safety is walls and insurance and a deadbolt on the door. No one needed a door until the Garden closed. Security is older than safety. Security is the knowledge that the life inside you can grow in others. That it passes through you into the next generation. That you are not the end of something but the middle of something that outlasts you. Babylon offered a counterfeit: money. And money promised that if you accumulated enough of it, you would never need anyone again.

Somewhere a baby girl is crying as her mother carries her out of a stone house a man built with his hands. Somewhere a man is begging on a sidewalk, thinking about a father in another state he has not called in months. Both are reaching for security. Neither has found it in money.

In the Garden, Adam and Eve were secure. Connected to the tree of life. Nothing threatened them. Then they ate from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and the first thing that happened was awareness. They saw they were naked. God asked the only question that mattered: “Who told you that you were naked?” (Genesis 3:11). Their thoughts and emotions lied to them. They felt exposed while still being secure. So they reached for fig leaves, covering what was never the problem, seeking security outside of God through the only tools The Lie gave them. That reaching is the pattern. Every time a person follows their thoughts and emotions toward security, instead of reaching to God for it, they are grabbing fig leaves. What was false insecurity became real insecurity, because they acted on The Lie and lost the tree of life. Generations later, the system built on that pattern has a name. Babylon. Not a people or a place, but a pattern that wears every empire’s clothing and speaks every language where money is spoken. And Babylon’s currency, the fig leaf it hands every person on earth, is money. Grain was the first money. Grain is still the true money underneath every abstraction that followed. Every dollar is a receipt for stored grain, wearing a new mask.

Money is not neutral. It replaces people. Every product is a thousand services compressed into a transaction. Every paycheck converts a person’s hours into something dead. Money makes people unnecessary. It allows a man to need no neighbor, no brother, no wife beyond sentiment. It sits in the seat that belongs to a king and grants access to resources the way a master grants access to a court. But money is not a king. It is an idol. The word ‘money’ stems from institutional false idol worship, and every hour spent serving it builds the spirit of that empire (1 Peter 5:13-14).

There is another way to measure a life. POLOE, pronounced ‘Polly’, stands for:

Purpose Of Life On Earth.

It is not instruction. It is identification. POLOE names seven purposes that every living person already reaches for and shows where value has always been stored: in people, not in currency. The seven purposes are Generational Tribal Fear of God (GTW), Generational Tribal Experience (GTE), Generational Tribal Health (GTH), Generational Tribal Knowledge (GTK), Generational Tribal Commodities (GTC), Generational Tribal Innovation (GTI) and Capital. The first features W for Wisdom, because the fear of The Lord is where all wisdom starts (Proverbs 9:10). Six carry the prefix GT, Generational Tribal, because they are built through family and community across time. The seventh stands alone. God keeps you in His storehouse by name. You are God’s Capital (Matthew 13:30).

What backs POLOE is two things: shared value among Christians, and the fear of The Lord. Not gold, grain or networks of code. People and God. Remove either, and the whole identification collapses into Babylon wearing different clothing.

Generational Tribal means people come first. You need people before people can fear God together. But no Christian reading this is alone. When you come to Christ, you do not gain one person. You gain every Christian on earth as family. Jesus is your brother, your father, your shepherd, your door. You do not just have a spiritual place. You now have a physical place. The seven purposes are the blueprint for building it together. You have been practicing them since before you could name them.

A conviction that cannot survive the table does not survive the marketplace. The fire is tested among brothers, not in isolation.

Babylon prizes seven values of its own: the love of money, success, women misused, power, worldly tradition, violent warfare, and the thoughts and emotions that drive people back to all of them. Two value systems. Two economies. One asks what you can earn and the other identifies what you already are.

Every Christian earning money has their nose in a corner, building for someone else, facing a wall. This identification turns your face toward the only Man worth facing. When you turn, you see every Christian on earth looking the same direction. The real economy does not empty you. It fills. Every hour in the purposes deposits Living value into the people you share life with, value that compounds across households, across generations, across the entire Body of Christ. An economy of people, backed by land, sustained by what God made to reproduce and nourish, held together by the fear of The Lord, has been waiting for its people to see it.

There is a promise older than any currency ever minted. A vine and a fig tree for every family, with no one left to make them afraid (Micah 4:4). The road toward that promise begins with one question.

What happens when you actually fear God?