Reimagining the Cross and the Dollar
The Unifying Lies of Money
During my time of life and ministry in the American south, I’ve seen loads of divisions in Christ’s Church. Often times the divide is along theologically liberal v. conservative values (that have much correlation with political ones). Yet, perhaps where I have seen the most unity, is around the teaching of principles of money.
In nearly every church I’ve attended, what is called “Biblical Money Principles” tend to looking something like:
Be debt free
Live below your means
Responsibly save for emergencies and retirement
And be generous (first to your local church, then beyond)
These principles have permeated through all forms of church barriers and have been held up as good stewardship and wisdom.
Yet, though these principles have often been taught as though they are deeply rooted in Scripture, the truer narrative of Scripture’s relationship with money does not support them. In other words, they are not (in the deepest sense of the word) “Biblical”.
To be clear, you can find Bible verses to loosely support each one, but you’ll often be pulling them from out of their larger context and usually from Proverbs, a book whose meaning is to be understood in contrast with Ecclesiastes and Job. You see, finding Bible verses to support an idea carries little weight if the narrative of Scripture as a whole does not affirm that idea.
Now, to be clear, I have no desire to dismantle these ideas about money. Anecdotally, these principles (generally summarized in the Bible Belt as Dave Ramsey’s “Baby Steps”) helped my wife and I pay off my student loans and begin a lifestyle of generosity.
God used it, but I’ve come to learn He would have preferred my wife and I to have been discipled into a deeper, more edifying, understanding about money. An understanding that will be immensely controversial in a wealth and security worshipping church culture.
An understanding about money that, in reality, is a narrow way.
And I had to be forced into this understanding, for I could not have grasped these ideas nor been convinced of their validity based on my own wisdom. It was as if I had a spiritual bone that grew malformed (“Being financially secure is wise!”) and the Lord had to re-break my bone and set it anew so it would heal as He desired (“Wisdom begins when I fear the Lord. Where my treasure is, my heart will be also. I cannot serve God and money.”).
As I catalogue what I have learned (and am learning) about money and finances, the temptation would be for these ideas to be quickly excused away, for this teaching is hard. That’s understandable, for only the Lord can truly grant insight into the depths of our hearts and the interplay there with money.
Only God can be so generous with His riches as to come into your life and re-break you too. But, here there should be a warning: it is possible to say to the great Physician, “no, sir, I like my arm as it is. I will not let you touch it.”
May we be on guard from this, and pray against it.
Relating to Money Like Jesus
More often than not, when a Christian uses the statement “well, I’m not Jesus” as a defense against a call to holiness, they are (for that moment) not choosing to surrender some element of their life to the “the originator and perfecter of the faith”1.
To confess with our lips “Jesus is Lord!” and to believe in our hearts that God has raised Jesus up from the dead means, at its most fundamental conclusion, to surrender our very lives to be conformed into Jesus’ likeness.
The statement “well, I’m not Jesus” nearly always equates to, “well, I’m choosing not to conform to Jesus’ likeness in this area.” Yet, for Jesus to truly be our Lord means to give up our own will, our very ability to “choose” something other than His command.
So how did Jesus relate to money?
Well, firstly, he put Judas—someone he knew was stealing from the moneybag—in charge of all of it (see John 12). Meditating on this simple fact will do much to wrestle our hearts towards God.
In a small essay on Desiring God, John Bloom writes,
But in knowingly giving dishonest Judas the moneybag, Jesus specifically modeled for us where not to put our trust: money. Jesus trusted his Father, not money, to provide everything he needed to fulfill his calling. He slept in peace every night, knowing that Judas was embezzling.
To be clear, Jesus was not only having Judas run his own moneybag, but the money for all those traveling with Jesus. Could you imagine, in America, a pastor knowingly putting an embezzler in charge of the church finances? We would call him or her foolish, unwise, irresponsible, enabling immoral behavior, and perhaps even worse.
We know we cannot call Jesus any of that, but many of us also fear to reevaluate our own relationship to money in light of His relationship to it. Thus, many of us either ignore this entirely, or begin the art of hoop-jumping that ultimately hinges upon the idea that, “well, we aren’t Jesus”. Jesus can do that, but today we must…
And yet, the most obvious teaching and conclusion is radically different.
Perhaps our churches today are supposed to put so little faith in the church bank account that we would let an immoral man run them, knowing that the God who raised Jesus from the dead is truly our defense, and would use those immoral actions for the gain of His Kingdom.2
It recalls to mind the story of Jesus paying the Temple tax (for both Him and Peter) with money from a fish. Recounted in Matthew 17, right after Jesus has been Transfigured and then gone on and healed a demon-possessed boy, then rebuking his disciples (because they couldn’t heal the boy) telling them “truly I say to you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.”3
Right after all that, we get this story.
Now when they came to Capernaum, those who collected the two-drachma tax came to Peter and said, “Does your teacher not pay the two-drachma tax?” He said, “Yes.” And when he came into the house, Jesus spoke to him first, saying, “What do you think, Simon? From whom do the kings of the earth collect customs or poll-tax, from their sons or from strangers?” When Peter said, “From strangers,” Jesus said to him, “Then the sons are exempt. However, so that we do not offend them, go to the sea and throw in a hook, and take the first fish that comes up; and when you open its mouth, you will find a stater. Take that and give it to them for you and Me.”
Now, I believe this passage has much to say about our relationship to the powers of this earth, and the declaration of who Jesus is (and by extension who we are) that I’m still learning and wrestling with. For our purposes, I would like to reflect on how flippantly it seems Jesus takes the need for money and finances. He paid the tax not because He worked and hustled and earned his wage—not in the American sense, at least. Jesus was going about the will of His Father, and thus he trusted that His heavenly Father knew His needs. So, He sought first the Father’s Kingdom and the Father’s righteousness, sure that “all these things will be provided to” Him.4
How much more powerful is this story in recognition that Jesus should not have even had to pay the tax. Yet, He didn’t argue or ask to speak to a manager. He didn’t claim it was unfair or even seem anxious at all. He knew that His Father would provide even for a tax Jesus should be exempt from. And through relationship with the Father, Jesus knew the way in which the provision would come.
A strange and impossible way.
“…go to the sea and throw in a hook, and take the first fish that comes up; and when you open its mouth, you will find a stater.”
Considerations for Our Life and Practice
The most fundamental Christian principle about money is this: do not trust it.
Do not look to it for provision, do not look to it for security, do not look to it for meaning, do not look to it for satisfaction, do not look to it for pleasure, do not trust it.
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
The eye is the lamp of the body; so then, if your eye is clear, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. So if the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!
No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.5
So what is the response I so often hear when tough conversations about money and heart conditions are brought up? “Well, of course we shouldn’t trust money, but we also shouldn’t be foolish with it either. I just have to keep my heart trusting in God, then I am free to use money wisely.”
But here is the most poisonous and deadly lie that permeates Christian circles in America: all this money talk is purely spiritual. No outward sign is truly needed—and heck, no other person can identify whether I have a healthy relationship with money. It’s all about the heart, which only God can see.
Friend, you are an earthly being. Nothing in our lives is exclusively spiritual. Everything bears earthly fruit. You cannot claim to have a healthy relationship to money while storing it up on earth.
There is no exception. There is no “out”. There is no, “well, you don’t understand” or “my pastor said” or anything else that will protect our hearts.
Storing up wealth is serving it, and the whole thing darkens our eyes so we cannot even see the light, so that eventually everything within us becomes darkness. I can think of no entry-drug to sin more common in our culture than a slippery slope with earthly riches that the American church has called “stewardship” yet Jesus has called “service to wealth”.
There are earthly tools that can be helpful for a disciple of Jesus (budgeting, debt-paying snowballs, etc.). But those are not spiritual disciplines that will draw you into Christ-likeness. In fact, they may well just make you “a more clever devil”.6
Or worse, those tools, when put in the hands of a disciple who has not yet learned what discipleship truly costs, may become more a snare than an aid, turning hearts from the potential to see God as Provider to instead seeing budgeting and retirement accounts as our way of provision.
Soon, without ever meaning, we become people who are serving those systems that brought us out of debt and into a larger home with a healthier retirement account. We feel good because we have tithed some, helped a few brothers and sisters, and so offset the balance of purchasing another “new to me” car and moving into the HOA zoned for the nicer schools.
And who tells us different? In all likelihood, those steps will see us appointed to a board of Elders in our church, not into anything like a challenging conversation. We receive pats on the back, and the most successful of us will be called “leaders” and “teachers”.
Have we never felt chastised by the knowledge that Jesus Himself would not be able to grow a church to “mega-church” size, for His teachings are too difficult for that? If He stood on the stage of our churches He might say to us what He told His followers:
“Beware, and be on your guard against every form of greed; for not even when one is affluent does his life consist of his possessions.” And He told them a parable, saying, “The land of a rich man was very productive. And he began thinking to himself, saying, ‘What shall I do, since I have no place to store my crops?’ And he said, ‘This is what I will do: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and I will store all my grain and my goods there. And I will say to myself, “You have many goods stored up for many years to come; relax, eat, drink, and enjoy yourself!”’ But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your soul is demanded of you; and as for all that you have prepared, who will own it now?’ Such is the one who stores up treasure for himself, and is not rich in relation to God.”
And He said to His disciples, “For this reason I tell you, do not worry about your life, as to what you are to eat; nor for your body, as to what you are to wear. For life is more than food, and the body is more than clothing. Consider the ravens, that they neither sow nor reap; they have no storeroom nor barn, and yet God feeds them; how much more valuable you are than the birds! And which of you by worrying can add a day to his life’s span? Therefore if you cannot do even a very little thing, why do you worry about the other things? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither labor nor spin; but I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass in the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will He clothe you? You of little faith! And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. For all these things are what the nations of the world eagerly seek; and your Father knows that you need these things. But seek His kingdom, and these things will be provided to you. Do not be afraid, little flock, because your Father has chosen to give you the kingdom.
“Sell your possessions and give to charity; make yourselves money belts that do not wear out, an inexhaustible treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near nor does a moth destroy. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”7
Oh, how small would Jesus’ church in America be.
Yet, let me draw attention to something beautiful that brings me comfort. Just before Jesus calls all (yes, all) of His disciples listening to “sell your possessions and give to charity”, he says, “Do not be afraid, little flock, because your Father has chosen to give you the kingdom.”
But I am afraid. The very idea of selling what I own to give to others terrifies the very part of me that really doesn’t trust Jesus. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Whether or not I can find an arrangement that works for the two parts of me: the part that trusts Jesus in love, and the part that doesn’t.
But Jesus tells me to not be afraid, and so I must choose to desire to be obedient to Him and put to death the part of me that does not trust him.
Jesus is surely unafraid, for he preaches this bold sermon without caveats or reassurances that maybe we can hold on to our things. The conviction sits upon our chests, and thus has the power to draw out our fears like poison being drawn from a wound.
If Jesus were to stand in the pulpit and preach this today, many would leave that church and go somewhere else that shares both their fear and their desire to keep it hidden. But a few would stay with Jesus, and when Jesus asked why they are still around, they would respond, “Where would we even go? Who else has the words of everlasting life?”8
What if the healthiest practice for most of us in our nation is to sell things that we own, but not to pay off our own debts, but our neighbor’s? What if our pay raise isn’t so we can begin purchasing the organic and “clean” products, but so that we can start helping our brothers and sisters with their groceries?
What if our children need parents who spend less time talking about how we can enjoy the good things God has given (which is true) and how we need to develop the discipline of giving up good things for the Kingdom of Heaven (also very true).
And maybe wisdom is not at all learning budgeting and having a Roth IRA, but is being so lovingly fearful of God that we would gladly die poor—no, gladly live poor—so that we might be a hoarder of the treasurer that is in Heaven.
An Analogy to Help
If I open a friend’s fridge and see a six-pack of beer, I don’t think anything about it, (though, I may ask if I can drink one).
If I open their fridge and they’ve got two twelve-packs, I’ll ask if there’s a party coming up. Game night?
But if their recycling is filled with cans and bottles, and their garage fridge is stocked full, and hard liquor lines the tops of the kitchen cabinets . . . I’ll probably ask a few tougher questions. Questions trying to search out what my friend thinks about meaning, about need, about value.
A house stocked with alcohol isn’t a sin, but it is usually a sign pointing to one.
Of course there are exceptions. They could be stocking up for a party, a wedding, or maybe Costco had an amazing deal. But exceptions are exceptions because they aren’t the “every day”. They stand out from the normal rhythms of life and is a season that should pass.
We could run this little story back again, but with dollars and investments instead of Bud Light and Jägermeister.
There is a six-pack equivalent of a savings account—something that isn’t needed for Christians who live off of a “daily bread” but is nice to have on a hot-summer’s day. To be upset about it is closer to the Inquisition than helpful discipleship.
And there’s also a stocking up of twelve-packs equivalent—the six-figure friend with a healthy savings and significant 401(k) contributions. It should be enough to raise an eyebrow, but only the closest and most intimate brothers and sisters in Christ could come alongside and call this into question. There may be real reasons for such storing up, (perhaps God is orchestrating the funding of a ministry) but it could be a sign of something deeper. Loving friends would ask.
And of course, there is the filled recycling cans and stocked garage fridge equivalent. This is the 3,000 square foot home in the nice HOA, the maxed out 401(k) contributions, newer cars, yearly vacations. You couldn’t possibly figure out what to get them as a Christmas present because, in their own words, they could always “just buy whatever they want”.
To be clear, there is no “sin” in owning an entire garage full of Heineken. But it’s also difficult to imagine getting to that point without a dependence on alcohol. And there is no “sin” in maxing out your 401(k) or buying a home that provides 500+ square feet per person… but it is so excessive by world (and historical) standards that it should be equally difficult to imagine getting to that point without a dependence on money and material possessions.
And, it should be noted, the longing is perhaps as bad as the having.
Though a smaller and smaller percentage of people in our economy will achieve this “dream”, a greater and greater percentage will lust after it. Those who have it will be deemed as mentors and people to aspire to, and the damage to our relationship to Jesus will be equally as harmful.
Where We’re Going
This post has taken awhile to get out because I’ve been sending it to people in my community and getting feedback. The previous draft was much longer, but I realized it must become longer still.
Over the next few weeks we’ll discuss many of the common objections and concerns of a Jesus-view on money, and we’ll also highlight practical steps most of us (if not all) should take.
But I should say that this really is an especially difficult teaching because money is such a deceptive god. Money is fine with an otherwise godly marriage, with sacrificing your time, with purity and goodness. Money will let you forgive others, and be “Christian” is all the sense except allowing Jesus full Lordship.
Money will say “well, did Jesus really say” to just about anything sacrificial or what our American Church-culture calls “radical”. But that should be expected. We live in a Christ without sacrifice culture, or what Dietrich Bonhoeffer calls “cheap grace” in The Cost of Discipleship.
Without intending it, we have created a culture that is fine with a Jesus who says “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”9 and not the one who says of Paul, “I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.”10
They are the same Jesus, of course, for coming to Jesus and gaining rest also means we will follow Him through the dying of ourselves. They are the same. Worldly suffering for Christ somehow only magnifies our joy and rest in Jesus.
Material wealth that avoids that suffering, likewise smothers the joy and rest.
Hebrews 12:2 NASB
Of course, I am not indicating that we are called to go out of our way to find embezzlers to run the church account.
Matthew 17: 20b - 21 NASB
Matthew 6: 32-33 NASB
Matthew 6: 19-24 NASB
Pulled from the full C.S. Lewis quote: “Education without values, as useful as it is, seems rather to make man a more clever devil.”
Luke 12: 15-24 NASB
See John 6
Matthew 11: 28 NIV
Acts 9: 16 NIV