Love of money, part II

Apologies to those who don't want to read about money :) it's been on my mind a lot the past few months as I have set out on giving up a high-paying job for completely uncertain (from a human standpoint) financial prospects.

Dave Ramsey says “money is amoral.”  And he quotes the famous verse about “love of money.”  It's interesting that any time someone quotes that verse, and emphasizes the fact that it's not "money" but the "love of money" that is a root of all evil, their intent is to anesthetize us to money's power over us.  The intent is never to put out a bold challenge as to whether we should value money at all but to assuage our consciences so that the acquisitiveness, the lust for possessions (or bargains?) doesn't come under close scrutiny.  We can then tell ourselves -- very likely deceive ourselves -- into thinking that we don't love money and therefore are safe.

But I believe Ramsey is misguided: money does in fact exert a power, and it seems to me that it is toward addiction, toward more, toward the values of the world.  Richard Foster's brilliant work Money, Sex, and Power (republished with the sanitized title of Challenge of the Disciplined Life) states this outright.  Money does not just lay around.  It preys on my mind and worms its way into my soul.

Think of it this way: how much of my time do I spend making money?  If I work a "regular" full-time job, I spend 40 hours (one-fourth of my weekly allotment) making money.  Add to that the time I spend shopping, financial planning, tracking my finances, and caring for the stuff I have spent my money on.  Likely I'm spending about 100 hours a week on money and its accoutrements.  And I'm always thinking about what comes next.  What's the next thing we should buy when we have the money?  When I get my tax return, what will I spend that on?  If I get a bonus, or have a month with three paychecks, what will I do with that money?  My impulses, my thoughts, and my emotions are all tied up with money.

That doesn't sound amoral to me.

Foster's solution is to fight the power of money by intentionally and freely giving it away.  Not so much by planned giving, but by treating money with disdain, with contempt.  I'm reading a biography of John D Rockefeller, in his time the richest man in the world.  Into his 50s, he personally read or talked with every person who wanted some of his money.  He was very thoughtful and (one gets the impression from the biography) prayerful about where God wanted him to use his wealth.

That's admirable.  And we like to think that's what we do.  We don't want to waste our money.  We call that "bad stewardship."  As though giving money to a panhandler who might use it on alcohol is worse stewardship than spending 10 percent of my income on buying a big-screen TV and cable and cell phone bills.

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and dust destroy and thieves break in and steal." (Matthew 6.19)  As I look at my own house, my own life, I sure see a lot of stuff that I've spent my money on, that moth and rust can (and do) destroy.  Wouldn't it be better to "freely receive, freely give"?  Or to "give to the one who asks you" without thinking of how it might be used?

Of course, stewardship comes into play.

Notice what I just did?  This whole blog was wending toward hard, significant challenges, and instinctively I typed a line that undercut the whole argument.  For just a second, we all felt safe again, didn't we?

Why is it so important for us to feel safe about our spiritual and moral and social selves when it comes to money?  Could it be that we recognize the hold money has on us?