This post was something I wrote years ago for my friend Mark Scandrette when he was exploring what the soul of money might be (long before a book of the same name by a different author was released). I’d somehow lost this article and was surprised to come across it again! It struck me as important because it foreshadows so many of the themes of this blog, my writing, and my Junkyard Wisdom Belize trips. It’s not exactly what I would write today but it still touches the core of my heart and passions. So it felt right to post it again with a few minor tweaks. Hope you enjoy it!
The Soul of Money
Sainthood resides in the soul of money. So does depravity. I will try to explain.
By most standards I am likely to be part of the financial one percent. And this has been true for most of my adult life (globally it is true for most Americans). This status has shaped me in ways that nobody, least of all me, could ever fully understand. But has such wealth been a blessing or a curse?
My journey to answer that question began when I was in my late-20’s. While sitting in a waiting room for a dentist appointment, I picked up a travel magazine. The cover article was about the ten best hotels in the world. A stunning realization hit me as I leafed through the article: I had been to more than half of the hotels on the list.
This triggered a time of reflection. How am I, who desires to live humbly and justly, going to avoid the temptations of wealth? As the joys of this world bombard my senses and undermine my loyalty, how am I to respond?
Sometime later an insight came from Richard Foster’s book Freedom of Simplicity. Foster alludes to the idea that the rich live at the gates of Hell. The rich are besieged by perpetual distractions, all tempting us to ignore God. The rich, Foster argues, are given all the benefits of privilege, but the gift will come with the temptation to let personal pursuits push out the pursuit of Truth.
It is mostly an accurate statement. But it is not quite fully developed because I believe there are more than one set of gates in Hell (and you can read that literally or metaphorically, however you want). My experience working in developing countries has shown me that if the rich live at one set of gates, the poor live at another. At the gate of the poor another form of temptation persists, in which despair destroys hope. Where the rich battle the power of diversion, the poor battle the power of oppression.
It is simplistic to say that giving is the solution. Andy Crouch wrote, “The only real antidote to the temptations of money is lavish generosity.” It’s a nice sentiment, but it’s not the full truth (sorry Andy). There are many other antidotes that must accompany generosity. Some live for generous acts but fail to live for God. Often their giving does much harm to the poor.
For me, living at the gates of Hell requires a full arsenal of weapons. Here are a few that have been especially effective.
I seek allies. Obviously some of them are rich because they offer wisdom – they have been down this path before me. But many of my allies are poor. We tend to think that the poor need the rich. But the rich need the poor just as much. The poor can teach us about reliance upon God, the one thing the rich need as we battle temptations. I teach the poor, too, because in their battle against despair I can share opportunity that minimizes despair. But whatever I might add to their lives, I almost always find that I receive more from the poor than they receive from me. I desperately need the poor.
I translate between the poor and the rich. Isaiah 57:15 says, “For this is what the high and lofty One says – he who lives forever, whose name is holy: I live in a high and holy place, but also with him who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite.” God understands the high places and the low places, and loves them both. I’m in a unique position to be in both the richest and poorest places in the world. My aim (never fully realized) is to be as comfortable in a remote village as I am at a black tie affair in the corridors of power. By consistently visiting both places I am able to translate for both groups. To the poor I can offer opportunity. To the rich I can offer … well, a sort of reality check in which I remind them that the pursuits of the world are meaningless compared to the pursuit of God. Or as Paul wrote of his mandate to spread the Gospel, we must not forget the poor.
I aim to not love the world. The most famous verse in the New Testament says that God so loved the world that he gave his Son. That’s a profoundly deep love for the world. Yet the same author advises us in I John 2:15 that we should NOT love the world or anything in the world. We are not to emulate God in this matter. How can that be? For me, at least, it is because the world is a very dangerous place. Money, fame, adulation, possessions and all the rest are dangerous because they all take my focus away from God. They are incredibly unhealthy yet surprisingly available. This is the great test of my spiritual discipline. As Richard Foster wrote, “Wealth is not for spiritual neophytes; they will be destroyed by it.” A daily reminder to myself is to not love the world; let God do that.
I live in the tension. Despite the danger of money, it is also a responsibility. Living in the tension between not loving money while utilizing money is a non-stop balancing act. Money helps me create jobs. It helps me put kids through school. It helps me restore neighborhoods. It does some wonderful things. The soul of money can be decadent, but it can also be restorative. This is the great quandary in my life. It’s the tension that God wants me to wrestle with. Indeed, it is a tension that I was made to wrestle with.
My focus is on the spiritual, not the physical. Jesus tells us that from those who have been given much, much will be expected. But I don’t think he was saying more work, more giving, or more sacrifice is always expected. He was talking about the faith, energy, and focus necessary to battle the diversions before us. The “much that is expected” is more often than not a spiritual response, not a tangible “give more time and money” response.
Thus I have a choice. Through obedience and focus on Christ, I can find balance between money and sainthood. When my heart and mind wander from that focus, I find an ugly form of worldly depravity.