Deacon Tam Tran

NO RISK INVESTMENT

(“Whoever believes in me believes not only in me but also in the one who sent me” (John 12:44)
“I know that his commandment is eternal life” (John 12:50).

Do you know that if you had invested $1,000 in Amazon’s IPO on May 15, 1997, that investment would have been worth about $1.36 million by September 4, 2018? That’s a gain of more than 134,000%. Let that sink in for a moment. One thousand dollars. No side hustles. No crypto wallet password to forget. Just patience.

Compared to Amazon, other famous IPOs look like they were jogging while Amazon was on a rocket ship. Apple gained about 58,000%. Netflix, 35,000%. Google, under 3,000%. Facebook—well, let’s not embarrass anyone—around 361%. In hindsight, Amazon looks like the greatest investment opportunity since someone decided land near the ocean might be valuable.

So, was Amazon a good bet?

Of course, it was—only after it succeeded.

But back in 1997? Not so obvious. Amazon didn’t look like a trillion-dollar empire. It looked like an online bookstore run by a guy most people had never heard of. Jeff Bezos wasn’t a household name. He wasn’t even a “who’s that?” name. He was a “who?” name.

Raising startup capital was brutally difficult. In fact, the only people willing to bet big on Amazon at the beginning were Jeff Bezos’s parents. Imagine that conversation at the dinner table: “Mom, Dad, I want to sell books… on the internet.” And then the real kicker: “There’s about a 70 percent chance you’ll lose everything.” Not exactly a Shark Tank pitch.

And yet, his parents invested a huge chunk of their life savings anyway. Not because the numbers were reassuring. Not because the market was stable. But because they believed in their son.

Meanwhile, financial analysts had a field day mocking Amazon. Some even nicknamed it “Amazon Bomb.” Critics confidently predicted Amazon would be crushed by Borders or Barnes & Noble once those giants decided to sell books online. (Side note: Borders no longer exists. Barnes & Noble sells more coffee than books. Amazon sells… everything.)

Now, let’s be honest. How many of us actually invested in Amazon back then?

Did you? I didn’t.

Most of us didn’t invest because we didn’t understand the internet, didn’t know Jeff Bezos, and didn’t feel like lighting our money on fire. And even if we had invested, let’s be real—we wouldn’t have invested our entire life savings. Maybe $500. Maybe $1,000. Something we could afford to lose without losing sleep.

And if by some miracle we had made a big gain, we probably would have cashed out early. New car. Bigger TV. College tuition. Emergency plumbing repair. Goodbye future millions.

Which brings us to an uncomfortable truth: the problem isn’t that we missed Amazon. The problem is that we don’t like risk—unless it’s someone else’s money or a story we hear 20 years later.

Now here’s where the Gospel of John quietly enters the stock exchange.

Jesus asks us to invest in Him—not with money, but with belief. He says, “Whoever believes in me believes not only in me but also in the one who sent me” (John 12:44). In other words, this isn’t a startup run out of a garage. This is a divine partnership with God Himself.

Unlike Amazon, Jesus doesn’t require seed money, insider knowledge, or a high-risk tolerance. He doesn’t even need a financial advisor. The investment strategy is shockingly simple: love God and love others. That’s it. No fine print. No quarterly earnings call.

Jesus boils it down elsewhere as loving God with everything you have and loving your neighbor as yourself. That’s the entire portfolio. And somehow, we still hesitate.

Why?

Because even though investing in Jesus costs nothing financially, it costs us something else: our ego, our comfort, our control. And those are things we guard more fiercely than our retirement accounts.

But here’s the ironic part. When we invest in Jesus, there is literally nothing to lose. No market crashes. No inflation. No recession. No panic-selling at 3 a.m. We can sleep peacefully at night because this investment doesn’t fluctuate with headlines or elections.

Better yet, this investment compounds. Every act of love, forgiveness, patience, and generosity adds up. Quietly. Invisibly. Eternally.

Jesus even guarantees the return. “I know that his commandment is eternal life” (John 12:50). Try finding that promise in a prospectus.

And here’s something Amazon can’t offer, no matter how dominant it becomes: you can’t take Amazon stock with you when you die. You can’t roll it over into eternity. But every ounce of love you invest in Jesus goes with you. Fully vested. No expiration dates.

Even better—Jesus doesn’t just give returns. He wipes out debt. All of it. The kind no credit score can measure.

So why do we hesitate?

In daily life, we gamble constantly. We gamble on careers, relationships, health decisions, and people who may or may not change. We invest time in things that drain us and worry endlessly about outcomes we can’t control. Yet when it comes to investing in Jesus—the one investment with guaranteed eternal returns—we suddenly become cautious, analytical, and suspicious.

Maybe the real question isn’t whether Jesus is a good bet.

The real question is: what are we afraid of losing?

Because unlike Amazon, Jesus never goes bankrupt. He never overpromises. He never disappears. And He already paid the price upfront.

Now that is an investment strategy worth considering—no risk and no hindsight required.