We Americans
are members of the wealthiest society in the history of our race. Even our
lower classes possess luxuries, thanks to our ever-advancing technology, which
previous generations could have only dreamed about. And while a pastoral
exhortation on the use of wealth will undoubtedly make some people uneasy, it
should be said at the outset that there is nothing inherently sinful in wealth.
Indeed, a proper scriptural perspective would, at least in some cases, view it
as the blessing of God. However, we are often too content to stop our
assessment after asserting that “it’s not a sin to be rich.” Our nervous
tremors of guilt are assuaged, and we can merrily go on our way. True, it’s not
a sin to be rich, as individuals or as a society. But how we gain our wealth
and what we do with it may well reflect sinful priorities and structures. The
biblical witness unanimously tells us that sin is serious business, and so we
must deal with it seriously, even (perhaps especially) in the area of wealth.
The book of Amos
touches on this theme directly, as the prophet proclaims imminent judgment on
the northern kingdom of Israel.
Amos himself appears to be a figure of significant means, having been both a
shepherd and a keeper of sycamore-fig trees in the southern kingdom (7:14). So
it is not wealth itself which he opposes, but rather the means through which
that wealth was procured and the complacency that it produced among the ruling
class. As Hemchand Gossai notes, “It must be understood that the prophets are
not members of a particular economic class at odds against another.”
What then is
the aim of Amos’ social critique on the matter of wealth? Our first clue comes
from 2:6-7, the beginning of the oracle against Israel. Here Amos declares that ‘they’
(Israel
in general, but possibly with a more specific view toward the ruling class) “sell…the
needy,” perhaps a reference to debt-slavery, and that they trample the poor and
deny them justice. This then is the common refrain of Amos’ denouncement of the
wealthy Israelites: that their wealth comes, at least in part, at the expense
of the poor. This would be in direct violation of the Mosaic codes, which
clearly spelled out practices that would protect the poor and honor justice (as
well as forbidding the hoarding of wealth by rulers). Human relationships were
among the foundations of Israel’s
covenant with God. It was not merely an individualistic religion, but one in
which the whole society was to follow the ways of God, to honor God by honoring
one another.
Another verbal assault
on Israel in relation to its
wealth comes at the beginning of chapter 4 (and following directly on similar
themes from chapter 3), where Amos refers to the rich women of Samaria
as “cows of Bashan” (v.1). While some scholars
suggest this may be a cultic name the women chose for themselves, the relevant
point is that the image of cattle is one of luxury, sensuality, and ultimately,
destruction. Cows of Bashan were “a valued breed of cattle at that time,” and
the image may allude to the activity of cows, which will destroy the very
pasture they feed from, much as the wealthy classes of Israel were destroying
the poor, on whom their wealth depended. Indeed, the very next line of v.1
supports this interpretation: “you women who oppress the poor and crush the
needy and say to your husbands, ‘Bring us some drinks!’”
This passage
brings us to a second concern: not only does the wealth of Israel come at
the expense of the poor, but it may foster a complacent and self-centered
attitude. These women, as Amos pictures them, reveal a total lack of
conscientious social reflection—their only concern is for the appeasement of
their own desires rather than for the pursuit of God’s justice or the wellbeing
of their fellow Israelites. The immediately preceding passage, 3:9-15, also
highlights these two themes of ‘social malpractice’ and ‘personal
self-indulgence.’ Verse 10 explicitly links moral failure with the indulgent
hoarding of wealth, with the Lord declaring, “They do not know how to do
right.”
A third concern
arises from yet another passage in Amos, 6:1-7, where the prophet directly
addresses the complacency of the wealthy, warning that they have blinded
themselves to the implications of their sin—namely, judgment. Here the ruling
class is specifically in view, as evidenced by v.1b: “you notable men of the
foremost nation, to whom the people of Israel come!” These are the leaders
of the people, to whom every significant question of justice must be referred, but
their only concern seems to be their own comfort and pleasure (vv.4-6). Verse 6
says to them, “You drink wine by the bowlful and use the finest lotions, but
you do not grieve over the ruin of Joseph.” They have become so saturated with
the self-centered benefits of their wealth that they have missed the point.
Their priorities are out of line. Rather than grieving over the imminent
destruction of their own people (and the continuing, systematic oppression of
the poor under their rule), they have become a society of navel-gazers. They
are blind to the consequences of their own sin.
As American
Christians, our context is not the same as that of 8th-century Israel. However,
there are enough parallels to give us pause. We too live in a wealthy society,
and so natural inclinations of wealth can push us toward sin just as easily as Israel was led
down that path. And with wealth comes confidence and security, so we must
remind ourselves that if sin is indeed involved, it will end, one way or
another, with judgment. The prophets remind us that sins are not merely minor
misdemeanors which God, in his grace, can simply brush off. Sin is so serious
that it cost the very life of God’s own Son. Therefore, every aspect of our
lives must be reflected upon, and if sin is found there we must deal with it.
So we must take
the three warnings of Amos that we noted and examine our own lives in light of
them. First, is our wealth at all connected with the oppression or
disenfranchisement of the poor? For most of us, probably not directly. But just
as the sin of Israelite wealth-hoarding seemed to be a systemic problem
stemming from the policies of the ruling class, so our wealth may also come
from systemic sinfulness. What I mean to say is that the processes by which we
gain our wealth as a society may be the same process that are actively
impoverishing (or at least halting the development) of other nations. Why is it
that countries like Nigeria,
which has incredible wealth in oil, still languishes in poverty, while we, who
benefit from their oil, merely grow richer? Part of the answer lies with the
corruption of Nigerian state officials, but part of the answer also lies with
our own economic system. We, as a society, must take steps to ensure that we
are not consuming the profits of other nations’ resources while leaving the
citizens of those nations without any benefit. We must also seriously consider
whether the nature of our economic system keeps certain groups here in America impoverished,
and if it does, then we must take steps to rectify the disparity.
The second and
third warnings point us in the same direction: does our wealth foster a
self-centered, complacent attitude? It is this very complacency that could
blind us to our sin, just as it did to the Israelite rulers. And for too many
of us, it is a simple enough matter to see that our luxuries have indeed led us
to complacency and self-centeredness. We have technologies and comforts that
have spawned a culture of entertainment and immediate satisfaction. Like the
Israelite rulers, we have the fulfillment of every desire right at our
fingertips, and these distractions often keep us from seeing and doing the will
of God in the world around us.
What then shall
we do? I would submit that the best question to ask is not “Is it a sin to be
rich?” but rather “How can we best use our wealth to glorify God?” Is God
glorified by his American children being happy and comfortable in lavish
wealth, when at the same time many of his African and Asian children are
wallowing in abject poverty? Or to glance at a situation closer to home, is he
pleased to have some of his children comfortable and secure when others, just a
few miles away, are living on the cold and lonely streets of inner-city America? As a
general rule, we cannot say that it is a sin to be rich. However, given the
current circumstances of global inequity, I would say that the practice of
making ourselves the objects of our own wealth is closer to being an inherent sin
than it ever has been before in history.
The spirit of
Amos calls us to live generously. We must concern ourselves with the concerns
of God, and justice is certainly one of his foremost concerns. Against the
systemic sins of our economic organization, we must act with both fairness and
compassion in seeking to relieve the plight of the poor. Finley writes about Israel’s
situation in words that could equally apply to us: “The judgment is precisely
because the oppressors have been ungenerous with the oppressed. Israel did not
remember the generosity of God toward them, which should have occasioned a
corresponding generosity toward the poor.” In like manner, we should focus our
attention toward the positive use of our wealth—God has been generous with us,
and so we should be generous with others.
These positive
considerations are where we should fix our eyes: How can we most glorify God
through the use of our money? How can we reflect the character and values of
God with our wealth? Are we reflecting his heartbroken affection and care for
the poor? The use of our wealth should be a delightful dance of joy as we enter
with all our hearts into the work of God in the world. It’s not a question of
feeling guilty about not giving enough; it’s a question of feeling ecstatic
about being used by God in radical giving. We have the incredible opportunity
to change the world forever through the immense riches God has given us, and
that is a wonderful thing indeed. In short, we must understand and affirm that every
use of our wealth is an active expression of implicit values. Let’s make sure
that those values line up with the heart of God.