The IKEA effect & Other Things that Last
Even if shopping comes easily, an IKEA excursion can expose even the most committed of shoppers. I have a friend who imagines IKEA as the Swedish word for “hell.” Once inside, you’re lost in a maze that seems to lead you back to a vaguely familiar kitchen. Of course, in wandering, you’re sure to be separated from anyone you love. If you have to use the restroom, they’re all fake, like a bladder mirage. And when you think you’ve escaped the warehouse nightmare, you find yourself in self-assembly purgatory with an out-of-nowhere (but justifiable) bias against Scandinavian engineers. I laughed out loud when I read Jon Levy’s amazing book, You’re Invited: The Art and Science of Connection, Trust, and Belonging. Levy explains a well-documented human pathology that causes a person to care about things into which we put effort. The more effort, the more we cherish. It’s what scientists call…ready for it? - “The IKEA Effect!”
Human nature has a gravitational pull toward comfort and convenience. Who doesn’t prefer the path of least resistance? However, the fastest way to build trust between people is a mutual and collaborative effort toward a shared goal or problem, a kind of joint IKEA effect.
IKEA is a surprising analogy for relationships, but it also illustrates what it means to encounter Christ as a disciple. Relational discipleship is not a zero-sum game where all the benefit goes to the one being invested in. Disciplemaking animates God’s sacrificial love, like a spiritual parent. Where else can we forge faith than by elevating another’s potential, embodying God’s desires, and reproducing the subtle and grand ways Jesus is making a difference in us?
Belonging > Belief. Not unlike delicate furniture, discipleship is not just hammering together doctrinal truths and gluing a few healthy habits to keep faith together. When a disciples’ faith begins with belonging, it announces – incarnates - we are beloved. Imagine a tender child or an adult skeptic experiencing the mutuality and collaborative reality of belonging. The essence of “I am my beloved, and my beloved is mine” (Songs 6:3) is not something achieved or earned, but a quality often hidden in plain sight that needs someone further along to illustrate. Performative relationships, like performative faith, carry the shelf life of flimsy furniture that won’t survive the weight of time or use.
On May 6, 2025, I’m excited to release Homegrown Disciples: Parenting Rhythms for Drawing Kids into Life with God (NavPress). Family is a beautiful laboratory for parenting to encounter and incarnate the reality of Christian belonging and beloved-ness. Order a copy, leave a review, and let me know what you think!
