Elevator Pitch

A sermon preached at Convocation, September 16, 2026, at San Francisco Theological Seminary.

Micah 6:6-8

  Last week, a company the university hired to help increase graduate student enrollment asked all the deans to create an elevator pitch, a concise 60-second summary of our various schools that quickly explains its value to a listener.  It’s not a bad exercise; I’d love to hear your responses.  But it’s also not an easy exercise; I found it challenging for a couple of reasons.  One is that the first thing that occurred to me is this scripture passage, though I’m sure that’s not what they had in mind.  The other is why it occurred to me. 

   A number of years ago, Simon Sinek gave a TEDTalk about “Why We Start with the Why.”[1]  Sinek drew what he called the “Golden Circle.” He said most organizations start from the outer ring of that circle when making their pitch.

   (Referring to a large sheet of paper with three concentric circles drawn on it, and pointing to the large, outer circle, labeled “What”): Here’s what we do. We’ve got great computers.

   (Pointing to the middle circle, labeled “How”):  Here’s how we do it.  They’re different and better than our competitors. 

  (Pointing to the inner circle, labeled “Why”): But inspiring leaders and organizations start from the center and move out.  Here’s what we believe.  Here’s what we’re passionate about.  Here’s a way of life, a cause, a movement.  And here’s a product or a service or an activity that will let you be a part of it.

   In his TEDTalk, he kept repeating, “People don’t buy what you do.  They buy why you do it.”  Now, if you bristle at the word, “buy,” I’m right there with you.  So replace it with the word, “invest.”  Or the phrase, “commit to.”  People don’t commit to what you do.  They commit to why you do it.

   And that brings me back to the Micah passage.  The people of God that we meet in the Hebrew Scriptures would look at the injustice and cruelty around them and sink into hopelessness.  That’s not hard for us to understand.  We look around and see racist ideologies that are killing people; we see creeping totalitarianism; we see economic policies that create billionaires at the same time they guarantee that one in five children will be food insecure and the planet will keep heating up; I could go on and on.  It’s easy to lose hope.  If there’s no hope, there’s no reason to act.  If things can’t change, then you might as well not bother to try. 

   The Old Testament prophets spoke up and spoke out to counter this kind of hopelessness.  They understood how past and current oppressive realities point to a despairing future.  They remembered what God requires, and they saw how forgetting and ignoring God’s heart, God’s hopes, God’s dreams for God’s people would result in a dystopian future.[2]  

   Not much is certain about Micah; he may have prophesied around 725 to 701 B.C.E.  What we know is what he saw.  He saw powerful landlords driving farmers off the land where they’d made a living for generations.  He saw dishonest business practices.  He saw unscrupulous priests and greedy judges.  He saw worship that talked the talk but didn’t walk the walk.  And so Micah reminds the people of what God wants for God’s world.  Micah is saying, loud and clear, that injustice is not the norm.  When people are being exploited and oppressed, it means something is broken, something’s gone wrong.  It gives tremendous hope to those who are being exploited to know that their suffering isn’t just the natural order of things.  And by challenging injustice in God’s name, Micah reminds the people that it is God who establishes what is just, and who judges those who violate God’s justice.  He describes a time to come when peace will be so much the norm that people won’t even bother to learn the skills of war.  A time when people will sit unperturbed under their own vines or their own fig trees – which means they’ll have their own vines or fig trees – and “no one shall make them afraid.”[3] 

   It’s a beautiful vision.  It’s what Jesus described again and again with his metaphor, “the Kingdom of God.”[4]  If it you don’t like the word, “kingdom,” if “commonwealth” or “kin-dom” or “reign” work better for you, use those words.  The point is that it’s the life and the world that God designed, that God desires, to which God calls us and helps us co-create.  It’s God’s reconciling community,[5] God’s will being done on earth as in heaven.  Jesus said it’s “at hand”[6] – within reach, available to everyone, inviting our participation, calling us to rethink everything and reorient our lives.  It’s completely unlike any kingdom you’ve ever experienced, said Jesus, because God is the ruler and God is all about love; God so loves God’s world.  And if love is God’s way, then our calling is to reconciling, healing love.  We are called to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God. 

   People don’t buy what you do.  They buy why you do it.  When I think about an elevator pitch for SFTS, our “why” is not attracting more students to our campus or our online programs.  As much as I want to increase enrollment, and believe me, I do, that is not our why.  Our why is not to keep or justify our jobs.  It’s not to get converts and it’s certainly not to save souls.  It’s not to preserve these buildings or keep the campus intact.  It’s not even about serving others and working for social justice, as important as those are.  Service and justice are still a “what” and a “how,” not a why.  It’s not even training our students to be agents of change, agents of the love and healing and justice to which we’re called.  That probably should go in our elevator pitch, but it’s still a “what.”  It’s not even keeping this seminary, this seminary I dearly love, afloat.

    Our “why” is that we trust this vision, we hope in this vision, and we live into this vision of God’s love for God’s world; a vision of peace and justice to be lived here and now in the daily lives of all people.  We can’t achieve it on our own, but we can move toward it by doing justice: proclaiming, as Jesus read from the scroll in Luke, freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, setting the oppressed free and proclaiming the year of the Lord’s favor.[7]  We move toward it by loving kindness: extending compassion even when it’s really hard.  We move toward it by walking humbly with God: remembering God’s ways aren’t our ways, and not assuming that we’re always the good guys or God’s favorites.

   Some of you might remember, years ago, a Hebrew National TV ad for kosher hotdogs.  A smiling Uncle Sam holds a hotdog in his hand as a voice over explains that government regulations say Hebrew National could make its hotdogs from frozen beef.  “We don’t” says the announcer, and Uncle Sam’s smile falters.  “The government says we can use artificial coloring and add meat by-products.”  “We don’t,” chimes the announcer, and Uncle Sam’s smile fades again.  “The government says we can add non-meat fillers,” and the announcer concludes; “We can’t.  We’re kosher.  And we have to answer to an even higher authority.”[8]

   People don’t buy what you do.  They buy why you do it.

   (Pointing to the outer circle): What: We train agents of transformation, people who strive to help create and lead a more just and loving world.

   (Pointing to the middle circle): How: Through a rigorous curriculum of academic study and lovingly guided spiritual formation.

   (Pointing to the inner circle): Why:  We answer to a higher authority; a higher authority who loves this world and everything in it; and calls us to a future in which all enjoy the fruits of doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God.

© Joanne Whitt 2026 all rights reserved.      


[1]  https://www.ted.com/talks/simon_sinek_how_great_leaders_inspire_action

[2]  Luther E. Smith Jr., Hope Is Here! (Louisville KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2023)

[3]  Micah 4:4.

[4]  Or in Matthew’s gospel, the Kingdom of Heaven.  “Matthew respectfully avoids the name of God by using, as it were, the dwelling for the dweller, just as, mutatis mutandis, we do by announcing, ‘The White House says …,” when we mean “The President says.’  For Matthew, “kingdom of heaven” means exactly the same as “kingdom of God.”  John Dominic Crossan, The Greatest Prayer: Rediscovering the Revolutionary Message of the Lord’s Prayer (New York: HarperOne, 2011), 118.

[5]  Brian D. McLaren, https://brianmclaren.net/q-r-what-is-the-gospel/.

[6]  Matthew 4:17.

[7]  Luke 4:18-19.

[8]  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lR1eeV5-M4U