TL;DR:
Jesus taught that we cannot serve both God and money. Freedom from Mammon's golden claws begins with repentance, faithful stewardship, and relying on the Holy Spirit. Instead of pursuing wealth as an end, believers are called to live simply, to use their resources for God’s kingdom, and to see themselves as stewards rather than owners.
What message is there for us in Jesus' words in Matthew 6:24?
"No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon." —Matthew 6:24, RSV
"I'm glad God called you to the mission field and not me," the young pastor's wife told me.
She was not talking about spiders and snakes. Nor about learning new languages or eating squid. Nor about separation from family and friends. She was talking about money—specifically, about how much lower my missionary support level was than the income she and her husband enjoyed.
In a service in their church the evening before, we had sung Judson W. Van DeVenter's song, "I surrender all." She seemed to mean the words of that classic gospel song: "All to Him I freely give … worldly pleasures all forsaken." Now, over breakfast, I wondered if she really had been serious about singing those words.
It looked to me like Mammon1 (money, riches, wealth, possessions) had reached out its golden claws and grabbed her. She thought Jesus was Lord of her life, but it did not seem that He was—not completely.
She isn't alone. Many other Christians—even Nazarene ones—have been trapped by the illusion of security that money brings. John Wesley once said, "Earn all you can; save all you can; give all you can." Sadly, too many of those who claim Wesley as their spiritual ancestor have reworded that to say, "Earn all you can—and then spend it all."
Lamenting all of this is easy. Many Christians bewail our society's irresistible materialism. Yet they find it nearly impossible to live simply and give generously.
Is there a way to disentangle ourselves? What does it mean to be Christlike in an affluent society?
The first step toward disentanglement is admitting how much we have sold out to Mammon.
In an address to a Nazarene Leadership Conference, Timothy Smith pointed to "the unconsecrated enjoyment of wealth and social eminence" as a principal corrosive element that destroyed the spiritual life of the Methodist Church. Today, a diabolical siren song seduces Christians with the words, "God wants you rich!"
While on home assignment from the mission field, I listened to a California man spouting the "God wants you rich" philosophy. I brought up seventeen Nazarenes who had died in a famine in Haiti not long before that. His response?
"Haitian Christians are poor because they have a spiritual deficiency. These believers starved to death because they lacked the faith to claim God's promise of riches."
I was stunned. I couldn't compose any rational response. I had to walk away from him.
So, after admitting we have sometimes, or even often, sold out to Mammon, we need to ask forgiveness for forgetting that we are stewards, not lords. "We are not owners of the capital in our hands, but only managing it for the owner, our Lord," said Phineas F. Bresee.
A third step is to ask ourselves: How does God intend for the resources we control to be used? How much should we keep for our personal use and enjoyment? How much should we be using to lift the burdens of hunger, illness, and dependency that lie so heavily on fellow believers?
It is easy for us to get concerned over outward manifestations of worldliness. We have, however, sometimes allowed a worldly attitude toward money and possessions to sneak in the back door. Andrew Murray once wrote: "The world asks: 'What does a person own?' Christ asks: 'How does he or she use it?' The world thinks about money-getting; Christ thinks about money-giving. The world looks at the money and its amount; Christ looks at people and their motives."
Once we have recaptured the spirit of biblical stewardship, we need to choose an economic level of life for our family. Reading about hunger and poverty can make us feel guilty about what we have. God does not want us merely to feel guilty about what we have. He wants us to live simply and joyfully, using our abundant resources to help alleviate the suffering caused by sin.
The Devil has often deceived us into thinking that we are barely getting by economically. In global terms, many families living on an American missionary salary are still relatively affluent. Remember Jesus' warning about how difficult it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God.
As we make decisions on money matters, we might choose the adjective wartime rather than simple to describe our lifestyle. That would signify that we are consciously choosing to live with less so that we can give more as Christ-followers.
News media once reported on a Baptist family that sold its sprawling home and moved into an inexpensive mobile home. News commentators were fascinated by this Christian family who chose to lower their standard of living considerably in order to give more to their denomination's world hunger fund.
I have long resisted the idea of calling all Christians "missionaries." Maybe I've been wrong. Maybe we should tell all believers to consider themselves part of a worldwide team. As members of that team, believers might consider living at an economic level comparable to that of the missionaries they support and giving additional income to specific missionary projects.
In his booklet Nazarenes and the Wesleyan Message, Timothy L. Smith argued that "nothing less than the mighty experience of sanctifying love" can keep us from succumbing to the lure of spending everything left after our tithe on ourselves.
Galatians 1:4 says that Christ "gave himself for our sins to rescue us from the present evil age" (2011 NIV). Some Italian and French translations use vivid expressions conveying deliverance or release. Those renderings emphasize the forcefulness of Christ's saving action.
In affluent societies, living on less than we earn will not be easy. But it can be done if we allow the Holy Spirit to rip us free from Mammon's golden claws. We must not carelessly call Jesus "Lord" while remaining a prisoner of a worldly view of money and its use.
Christ can free us from Mammon. We must, in joyful submission, allow Him to do that. Only as true stewards, not lords, can we become all that Christ meant for us to be.
1Mammon comes from an Aramaic word for wealth or possessions. In the New Testament, it represents riches regarded as a rival master that can demand a person's loyalty.
In Paradise Lost, John Milton depicts Mammon as a spirit that forever looks downward at Heaven's golden pavement rather than upward toward God.
—Howard Culbertson, hculbert@snu.edu
These reflections originally appeared in the publication now called Holiness Today.
Overall, the New Testament term "mammon" warns us about the spiritual dangers of wealth. We must prioritize spiritual values, examine our attitudes toward money, and refuse to let the enjoyment of possessions crowd out our devotion to God.
M — Mastered by greed, with hearts set on gold.
A — All-consuming desire, where power unfolds.
M — Money is worshipped, its grasp hard to flee.
M — Mammon demands; it's a force none can see.
O — Offering promises, but never fulfillment.
N — Never content, the void takes its toll.
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