This is my last post about Helen Rhee’s book, Loving the Poor, Saving the Rich. I want to finish writing my thoughts on her work and move back to some other topics I’m curious about. Here I want to share some of Rhee’s conclusions about the early church’s dealings with wealth and poverty.
Most of Rhee’s book covers how the early church linked one’s functioning in the economic world with one’s beliefs. The early church leaders argued financial attitudes and practices should be rooted in their theological beliefs regarding eschatology (the end times), soteriology (how salvation works), koinonia (how community works), ecclesiastical control (how the church got rich and powerful) and ultimately Christian identity. I won’t cover these issues individually but I will say this. The early church was right to connect one’s financial activities to one’s Christian identity. Who we are with our money is who we are. We can’t compartmentalize faith from finances.

As the early church grew, geographically and numerically, it also spread across the socio-economic strata in the Greco-Roman society. Most early Christians were deeply impoverished, but it’s clear there were some wealthy Christians as well. The early church leaders needed a way to create a new culture and community, rooted in the beliefs and teachings of Christ, for both poor and rich believers.
As a result, the church fathers leaned hard into the themes of the pious poor/unrighteous rich. Ultimately, they created “redemptive almsgiving” as a means of helping the rich secure their eternal reward. In redemptive almsgiving, the rich give generously to the common chest, from which the bishop could care for the poor. In return, the poor, whom God listens to, would pray and intercede on behalf of the rich. They argued that God’s gifting of the rich with wealth was for the purpose of caring for the poor. The poor, meanwhile, must guard against desiring the wealth of the rich and endure their poverty well. Thus, at best, wealth was a means for securing one’s spiritual growth and eternal rewards through the regular practice of giving it away. At worst, it was evidence of one’s idolatry, faithlessness, and sure demise.
The practice and preaching of redemptive almsgiving would continue for the first several centuries of the Christian church. When Emperor Constantine finally decided everyone would be Christian, the Church was put in a unique situation. As a persecuted minority, it had used the donations given by its rich members to meet the needs of its poor members, especially the sick, those imprisoned for confessing the faith and their families, the widows, orphans, and so on. Once the Church became the official religion, it received Imperial (State) funding and the responsibility to care for all the poor. Thus, the wedding of the Church and the State.

My mom, a professor of political science, reminded me it wasn’t until Thomas Jefferson, and the early days of America, that the Church and State would get a divorce, or, at least, a separation. For centuries, western governments followed the example of Constantine and used the Church as the sole means of meeting the needs of (and controlling) the poor in their countries. Jefferson would argue successfully the government should not raise funds for other institutions. Additionally, the budding America country was already home to several churches and denominations. How would the government choose how much to give and to whom? Jefferson believed the government bore some responsibility to care for the poor and vulnerable. Taking care of the least among us was not something solely to be delegated to the plethora of churches, but was the responsibility of every American and of its government. Jefferson probably didn’t have in mind the social safety nets we have today. He believed carefully crafted laws and the abundance of land “available” would be enough to provide the poor with the means to work hard and make their own way. The man had some blind spots to be sure, but at this pivotal point in history, Jefferson would help create the core value that governments have a responsibility to the people they govern. So now we argue endlessly about how those in power and with the means are responsible for providing the means for the poor to have enough – life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
So, what now?
Understanding more about the ancient world’s economy and philosophies has been helpful for me. It’s been valuable to note the very real differences in the economic world of then and now. Then it was a agricultural economy with limited goods and resources. The wealthy owned the landed and consumed the goods. Most people were incredibly poor with no real means of upward social mobility and without any social or economic network to prevent them from literally dying of starvation or exhaustion. They would work until the day they died. Whereas, wealth in the western world now is focused on production, investment, advancement of technology, etc. As the wealthy today get richer, there has been an increase in wealth for the poor. There exists now a middle class and a social safety net. I am not the poor, nor am I the rich that the Biblical authors and early church referenced when they wrote. Additionally, this has changed my view of the rich. They are not exactly the villains of old.
Nonetheless, our embrace and engagement with wealth and the economy still matter to our identity as Christians and our fulfillment of the Great Commandment. This hasn’t changed. Rhee writes,
“Our attitudes (understanding of ownership, stewardship, attachment, or detachment) govern our use and lifestyle (conspicuous consumption, miserliness, simple living, or generous giving) and distribution (hoarding or sharing; justice and equity)…Our individual and collective use of wealth impacts distribution of wealth in personal choices and public (social, economic, and political) policies.” (p. 192)
What we think about money affects what we do with it. Human ownership is a myth. God is the owner of all things and we are stewards of what God has given to us. We don’t actually earn a living; we are given life. God provides us with work, and the monies we receive are to be stewarded according to God’s purposes – meeting one’s needs and the needs of others.
The difficulty now is determining what’s enough and what’s the appropriate enjoyment of the abundance from God. The creation of a middle class has resulted in what used to be luxuries decades ago, are now seen as “regular” or even “necessary.” Ironically, these luxuries include things like washing machines, cell phones, and the occasional eating at restaurants, but not health care. Nonetheless, it is a sign of the progress and positive contribution of democratic capitalism. In our economic culture now, we struggle with a more fluid sense of sufficiency, necessities, and material enjoyment as well as greed, luxury, and materialism. Despite having more stuff and more access to luxury, we tend to not be happier or more faithful in God’s provision or presence. Our economy and culture is largely structured to maximize the consumption of goods. As a result, it is easy to denounce our economy and culture in abstract, but much harder to identify and deal with in concrete ways.

Thus, the teachings of the early church vis-à-vis wealth are not so irrelevant. Rhee argues we must also support economic, social and political policies which promote economic justice, recognizing that some of the struggles of today’s poor are due to systemic problems. Additionaly, she advocates the continued practice of renunciation through simplicity and generous almsgiving. All these actions can help combat confusing American economic culture with kingdom of God culture. Simplicity means taking regular inventory of one’s possession and cutting away excess goods — freely given away. This practice requires constant vigilance and discernment in determining what is enough in probably stricter terms than our culture. It is about cultivating a discipline of contentment in God’s abundance and provision. The call for generosity is our response to and imitation of God’s character toward us. The practical specifics of how to do this can be very diverse.
So then, what is money for? Money is for meeting one’s needs and the needs of others. I now understand, ultimately, God doesn’t actually care about money. It is merely another means by which we are called into relationship with Him and with one another.
I will continue to study Scripture’s comments about wealth and poverty, but I’m looking forward to exploring some practical ways of living out minimalism, generosity, and economic justice today. Lent is a great season for re-orienting one’s sense of need.