The Prosperity Gospel of War

ExxonMobil jumped to $160 per share. Palantir surged 7% in a single day. Energy became the top-performing S&P 500 sector. The reason? Not innovation or service to humanity, but the outbreak of war with Iran and the death of its Supreme Leader.

The market doesn't lie about what it values. When strikes hit Tehran, algorithms immediately calculated the upside: restricted oil supply means higher prices for ExxonMobil's 4.7 million barrels per day. Iran's instability means demand for Palantir's AI-driven war scenario planning. Death becomes data; violence becomes dividends. Bank of America raised ExxonMobil's price target from $135 to $151 explicitly because of what analysts call the "oil risk premium"—a polite term for the market value of human suffering.

This isn't about judging individuals who hold these stocks in retirement accounts. It's about recognizing that we've constructed an economic architecture that sanctifies profit from bloodshed. The system works exactly as designed: rewarding efficiency, not morality. When defense contractors fulfill contracts and oil companies deliver returns, shareholders prosper. The invisible hand doesn't ask whose blood oils its gears.

Jesus spoke clearly about divided loyalties: "No one can serve two masters." When our portfolios quietly celebrate what our prayers should mourn, we face an ancient question in modern dress. The Psalmist wrote that God "makes wars cease to the ends of the earth." Our markets do the opposite—they need wars to continue.

The temptation isn't to abandon all investment. It's to pretend this tension doesn't exist, to accept that wealth generation and human flourishing have nothing to do with each other. But they do. And that should unsettle us.