IF YOU SEE the poor oppressed in a district, and justice and rights denied, do not be surprised at such things; for one official is eyed by a higher one, and over them both are others higher still. 9The increase from the land is taken by all; the king himself profits from the fields.
10Whoever loves money never has money enough;
whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with his income.
This too is meaningless.
11As goods increase,
so do those who consume them.
And what benefit are they to the owner
except to feast his eyes on them?
12The sleep of a laborer is sweet,
whether he eats little or much,
but the abundance of a rich man
permits him no sleep.
13I have seen a grievous evil under the sun:
wealth hoarded to the harm of its owner,
14or wealth lost through some misfortune,
so that when he has a son
there is nothing left for him.
15Naked a man comes from his mother’s womb,
and as he comes, so he departs.
He takes nothing from his labor
that he can carry in his hand.
16This too is a grievous evil:
As a man comes, so he departs,
and what does he gain,
since he toils for the wind?
17All his days he eats in darkness,
with great frustration, affliction and anger.
18Then I realized that it is good and proper for a man to eat and drink, and to find satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given him—for this is his lot. 19Moreover, when God gives any man wealth and possessions, and enables him to enjoy them, to accept his lot and be happy in his work—this is a gift of God. 20He seldom reflects on the days of his life, because God keeps him occupied with gladness of heart.
6:1I have seen another evil under the sun, and it weighs heavily on men: 2God gives a man wealth, possessions and honor, so that he lacks nothing his heart desires, but God does not enable him to enjoy them, and a stranger enjoys them instead. This is meaningless, a grievous evil.
3A man may have a hundred children and live many years; yet no matter how long he lives, if he cannot enjoy his prosperity and does not receive proper burial, I say that a stillborn child is better off than he. 4It comes without meaning, it departs in darkness, and in darkness its name is shrouded. 5Though it never saw the sun or knew anything, it has more rest than does that man—6even if he lives a thousand years twice over but fails to enjoy his prosperity. Do not all go to the same place?
7All man’s efforts are for his mouth,
yet his appetite is never satisfied.
8What advantage has a wise man
over a fool?
What does a poor man gain
by knowing how to conduct himself before others?
9Better what the eye sees
than the roving of the appetite.
This too is meaningless,
a chasing after the wind.
10Whatever exists has already been named,
and what man is has been known;
no man can contend
with one who is stronger than he.
11The more the words,
the less the meaning,
and how does that profit anyone?
12For who knows what is good for a man in life, during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow? Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?
REFLECTION ON THE worship of Mammon and its consequences (4:1–16) has led to a brief digression on the topic of true worship (5:1–7). Now we return to the subject matter of oppression and the pursuit and hoarding of wealth. The key word in the whole section is “consumption” (Heb. ʾkl; lit. “eat,” in 5:11, 12, 17, 18, 19, and 6:2, trans. variously by the NIV as “consume,” “eats,” “eat,” and “enjoy”). If the good life involves what goes out of our mouths (5:1–7), it also involves what “enters” them and how it does so.
Ecclesiastes 5:8–9 picks up the thoughts of 4:1–3, making it clear to the reader that oppression is not merely a matter of individuals behaving badly in respect of their neighbors. Oppression has its structural, systemic aspects. The oppression of the poor and vulnerable and the denial of justice and rights are consequences of an entire hierarchical system of government that is corrupt. Each government official “is eyed” (Heb. šmr) by another, either in the sense that each looks out for the interests of the other, or in the sense that each is supervised by another and cannot behave in ways that are not to his superior’s advantage.
In all this watching, however, no concern exists for the interests of the poor and for justice—for the powerless of 4:1–3. Government is in the interests only of the powerful. It has been forgotten that each person is supposed to be his brother’s “keeper” (šmr in Gen. 4:9, i.e., to watch out for his interests), just as God himself watches out for the interests of his creatures (šmr in verses like Ps. 16:1; 41:2; 121:3–5, 7–8). It is the desire for “gain” that causes the lapse in memory (the NIV’s “increase” in Eccl. 5:9 is the same Heb. yitron that we have encountered already in 1:3; 2:11, 13; 3:9 [see comments]).
The Hebrew of verse 9 is somewhat difficult; a literal translation would be: “Profit from land, in all, is this—a king in respect of a cultivated field.” Syntactically awkward, it nevertheless seems likely that “profit” and “king” stand in parallel just like “land” and “cultivated field.” Thus, the sense is that the only real “profit” made by workers from tending their crops is the king, who stands at the pinnacle of the corrupt regime and derives the ultimate benefit. We might paraphrase as follows: “In the end, the only ‘gain’ from hard work in the fields is the monarchy, which flourishes in the soil of the workers’ labor.” Note again 1 Samuel 8:10–18, with its picture of the king who takes and takes from his people, employing them to plow “his” ground and to reap “his” harvest, while ensuring that his officials and attendants are well cared for.
As in Ecclesiastes 4:1–16, we turn from oppression immediately to consider its root causes. Envy was the focus of 4:4–6; in 5:10 Qohelet fixes attention on the love of money itself. Like all false gods, money is incapable of satisfying the hunger and the thirst of the person who is devoted to it: “Whoever loves money never has money enough.” Profit never fulfills those who pursue it but only feeds the insatiable desire for more. Indeed, the irony is that as goods increase, their owner finds not only that their consumption does not satisfy but that the number of those vying to consume them increases (5:11). His “benefits” from the whole business are only to “feast his eyes on them” before they disappear into other people’s pockets and mouths.
The world of the rich is indeed a world of “abundance” (śbʿ, v. 12), which does not in fact satisfy (śbʿ, v. 10) and permits no sleep (cf. 2:23; 5:3). The world of the worker (ʿbd, as in 5:9, “cultivated”), by contrast, is one in which there may be less consumption (he may not eat [ʾkl] much, v. 12; cf. “consume” in v. 11), but at least he has peace of mind that permits restful slumber. The one suffers the indigestion of materialism, being too full of good things. The other, tasting more selectively of life’s bounty, knows sweeter dreams (Heb. matoq/metuqa, “sweet,” often refers to what is eaten, esp. honey, cf. Judg. 14:14). Once again it is suggested that the pursuit of profit brings not only oppression to others but also damage to the self.
An explicit statement to this effect, looking back over 5:10–12, is found in verse 13. Qohelet has seen a “grievous evil” (lit., “sick evil,” in the sense of “miserable outcome,” cf. 5:16; see comments on 1:13) as he observes the world: wealth “hoarded” to the harm of its owner (cf. “owner” also in 5:11). The Hebrew verb behind “hoarded” is šmr, reminding us of 3:6 and, most recently, of 5:8. The rich man has kept his wealth when he ought to have been keeping his neighbor; but even though his goods have increased (v. 11), the end result for him has only been “harm” (lit., “evil,” playing on the concept of whether “goods” are really good for the person).
This is not the only grievous evil that exists, however.1 Qohelet has seen wealth both hoarded and also lost after being accumulated (5:14–17; cf. 3:6). The NIV ascribes this to “some misfortune” (5:14), but that is probably too specific; it is simply lost in the course of the wealthy person’s involvement in the “evil/miserable business” of life (Heb. ʿinyan raʿ, 5:14, as in 1:13; 4:82). The consequence is that this man, who unlike the driven man of 4:7–8 has a son, is nevertheless unable to pass on any inheritance; there is literally “nothing in his hand” to give him (5:14). This is a bad state of affairs, for it means that no surplus survives his death. He arrives in the world naked, and thus he departs, with nothing from his “labor” (ʿamal) that he can “carry in his hand” (5:15). There is nothing to show for it all; he makes no “gain” (yitron, v. 16), for he “toils [ʿml] for the wind” that cannot be grasped and held captive.
The awareness of this fact leads this man, too, to “eat” in the midst of unhappy circumstances (in “darkness,” v. 17, with all its connotations of chaos, imprisonment, and separation from God; e.g., Amos 5:18). Even the loss of his fortune does not lead to the abandonment of his futile approach to life but only to frustration, affliction, and anger, as his great plans are confounded.3
For those who pursue gain, then, and who oppress the poor in doing so—whether they possess wealth or have once possessed it and have now lost it—there is no contented consumption, but only dissatisfaction, restlessness, frustration, affliction, and anger. With this reality in mind, Qohelet returns to his earlier advice about how to gain or “find” contentment (v. 18; cf. 2:24–26; 3:12–13, 22). It is good for a person to eat and drink and to “see the good” (NIV “find satisfaction”) in all toil. These things are, in themselves, our ḥeleq, our “share” in or “reward” from life (NIV “lot,” 5:18). There is nothing beyond them during the few days of life that God gives to each of us as a gift.
Wisdom lies in accepting these things from the hand of the good God as they come to us as an aspect of the “times” he gives us. That is the force of the word “proper” (yapeh) in 5:18 (cf. also 3:11, where God has made everything “beautiful” or “fitting” for its time). As we adjust ourselves to the reality of the universe and to the reality of God who made it, it is possible to find peace of mind and joy in the midst of our lives (like the laborer of 5:12).
It is not that it is impossible to know God and to know joy even in the midst of wealth and possessions (5:19–20). Qohelet acknowledges the possibility that these things too can be received as divine gifts and that people might even be blessed with the ability to “enjoy them” (lit., “consume, eat them”; cf. 5:11, 12, 17, 18). Perhaps a wealthy person may, like the ordinary person, “eat” well while accepting what he has been given as his “share” in life (NIV “lot,” v. 19) and finding joy (śmḥ) in his toil, rather than eating too much or eating in darkness (vv. 12, 17), striving always for more than his “share” (v. 10), and finding only frustration in his toil (v. 16). Perhaps a wealthy person may know so much joy (śimḥa; NIV “gladness,” v. 20) in his heart that he will not be preoccupied with the brevity, cares, and frustrations of life (as in vv. 12, 17), but will, like the person in v. 18, gladly receive “the days of his life” as gifts from God. The wealthy person, Qohelet acknowledges, can also be oriented toward God (notice the emphasis on divine giving throughout vv. 18–20, in contrast to vv. 8–17) and perhaps know contentment.
Yet what Qohelet himself seemingly gives with one hand he immediately takes away with the other, as he returns to reinforce what he has said in 5:8–17. The fact of the matter is that all too often God gives someone wealth, possessions, and indeed honor and yet does not grant him the ability to “enjoy them” (lit., “eat them,” 6:2). A stranger “eats” them instead. This verse echoes the preceding passage (cf. 5:11, 14), even though we are not told here precisely why someone else, not the wealthy person himself, “consumes” what he has—as does the whole of 6:1–12. It is not clear, therefore, that the NIV’s “another” in 6:1, which does not appear in the Hebrew text, is a correct interpretation. We are not dealing here with another “grievous evil” (v. 2) but are merely exploring further the reality already presented—an evil or bad situation that multiplies (Heb. rabba, NIV “weighs heavily,” v. 1) just as quickly as riches multiply (cf. 5:11). It is possible to have all that the heart desires (v. 2) and yet to find no joy in it.
The paradigm case is the man who (presumably theoretically, and for emphasis) has a hundred children and lives many years. Long life and abundance of offspring are characteristic indicators of God’s blessing in the Bible (e.g., Job 42:12–17; Ps. 127:3–5; Prov. 28:16). Yet of what use is the mere possession of multitudes of days and offspring if a person cannot be satisfied (Heb. śbʿ, as in 5:10; NIV “enjoy”) with these good things (Heb. ṭoba, as in 5:11, trans. by NIV as “goods”), if “he cannot enjoy his prosperity [ṭoba]” (6:3)? Without contentment—that is, “seeing the good” in things—the goods things of life are of little benefit. Verse 3 seems to envisage, indeed, only a frustrated life followed by a lonely death for this person; he “does not receive proper burial,” or indeed any burial at all (“proper” does not appear in the Heb. text).
Certain passages of the Old Testament (e.g., 1 Sam. 31:11–13; 1 Kings 14:10–11; Isa. 14:19–20; Jer. 16:4–5) illustrate the importance of burial to the ancient Semitic peoples, as the community of the living sent the deceased person to be at rest with the community of the dead. A good life came to an end in a good death. Here in Ecclesiastes 6:3, a miserable life comes to an end in a bad death. Such a person is worse off than a stillborn child, the tragedy of whose birth is captured in verse 4: “It comes without meaning” (i.e., the birth is “pointless” [hebel] in that it does not lead on to life), and “it departs in darkness” (capturing the awful gloom that accompanies its departure from the land of the living; cf. the atmosphere of 5:17 and esp. Job 3:16 for the “infant who never saw the light of day”). In these respects the stillborn child is precisely like the wealthy person described in Ecclesiastes 6:3, for he too is born to a life that is not truly life and “departs in darkness.”
It is not quite so clear whether the third element in verse 4, “in darkness its name is shrouded,” also represents a similarity between child and man, in that the name of both is associated with darkness rather than with the light of life, or perhaps represents instead a contrast between them (the child has no descendants to whom to pass on his name). Even if the child is worse off than the man in this single respect, however, the overall picture is clear. Although the stillborn “never saw the sun or knew anything” and (perhaps this is the meaning) has no descendants, it is much better off than the man who knew long life and a large family but no “rest” (naḥat, 6:5). The Hebrew word naḥat has occurred in 4:6 (“Better one handful with tranquillity than two handfuls with toil and chasing after the wind”). The point in 6:5 is not to minimize the tragedy of the stillborn child but to emphasize, through the shocking comparison, the tragedy of the life that is lived without contentment or peace of mind (cf. Job 3:16–19; see comments on Eccl. 4:6). Such a life could last two thousand years and still be futile (6:6), if the person never learns to “see the good” (NIV “enjoy his prosperity [ṭoba]”). Moreover, it will in any case end in death (“Do not all go to the same place?”).
Verse 7 sums up the madness of it all: toil (NIV “efforts”) undertaken in pursuit of things to consume, yet powerless to fill the gaping void that is human appetite. Verse 8, although the Hebrew of its second part might better be translated as “what advantage does a poor man have who knows how to meet life’s challenges” (taking Heb. ḥayyim as “life,” not “the living”), is best taken as the question to which verse 9 is the answer. What is the profit that wisdom has over folly, which the poor man is described as grasping in contrast to the rich (cf. 2:12–14 for the idea that there is some profit, at least, in wisdom)? It lies in understanding that we should rest content with what lies before us and resist the temptation to wander off in search of more (v. 9). “Better what the eye sees” (ṭob marʾeh ʿenayim) is related linguistically to the phrase “see the good” in verse 6 (raʾa ṭoba; NIV “enjoys his prosperity”). The wealthy fool fails to “see the good” in what lies before him, but the wise pauper is content with it. The latter is happy simply to “walk” (v. 8; NIV “conduct himself”; Heb. hlk) well through life, while the former is determined to “rove” (hlk, v. 9) in search of gain.
Reality has once again been brutally exposed by Qohelet. As he brings this section of his reflections to a close (6:10–12), he underlines that it is something that must be accepted rather than debated. Verse 10 reminds us of our true nature as human beings. Everything that exists has already been “named” in accordance with its true character (e.g., Gen. 2:19–20). This includes “man” (ʾadam), who comes from the “dust” (ʾ adama, Gen. 2:7) and will return to the dust (Eccl. 12:7). Human beings prefer to make a name for themselves (Gen. 11:4); but in fact they already possess one, and it is a name that signifies weakness (“dust”) in the face of the almighty Creator God, with whom no one can “contend” or dispute, as Job discovered (Job 38–42).
There is simply no point in multiplying words, therefore, in a vain attempt to change the nature of reality (Eccl. 6:11; cf. 5:1–7): “the more the words, the less the meaning” (or better, “the greater the futility”). The wise person has the “advantage” (yoter, v. 8) over the fool, but there is no way for mortals to gain an advantage (yoter in v. 11; NIV “profit”) over God.
Acceptance of reality is a necessity. “For who knows what is good for a man in life” (v. 12) other than God, who creates the good and blesses mortals with it (cf. 5:18)? No mortal being is in a position to challenge God on this point! “Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?” No mortal being knows! We are ignorant and weak creatures, passing through life “like a shadow” that flits here and there and is gone after a few “meaningless” (better, “brief, insubstantial”) days. It is certainly therefore not a rational course of action to seek anything other from life than harmony with creation as it really is and with God who made it thus. Life lived in any other manner can only end in tears.
Bridging Contexts
THE IRRATIONALITY OF human rebellion against God is on open display in this section of Ecclesiastes, although its destructiveness to human beings is also painfully visible. What is it in human nature that leads us to “run after” material things (Matt. 6:32), behaving in adulthood as we behaved first as young children (accumulating and hoarding possessions that we were unwilling to share), rather than learning to trust and to worship the Creator God? Why are we so blind that we cannot see that this way of life is not even in our own best interests, much less in the interests of our neighbor or our planet?
It is the breathtaking stupidity of sin, rather than simply its wrongness, that often strikes our biblical authors. Even the ox knows its master, the donkey its owner’s manger, but human beings are too stupid to recognize their Creator (Isa. 1:3). So they go on hoarding goods to their own harm (Eccl. 5:13), even though these possessions do the owner no real good while he or she possesses them but bring with them lack of satisfaction, worry, sleeplessness, frustration, and anger (5:11–12, 17; 6:1–6); and even though they are consumed in the end by other people, whether in life or in death (whither we go naked, 5:11, 15–16). This is a reality of human life reflected throughout the Bible, which identifies the human attachment to material things as one of the primary barriers that exists between God and his human creatures.
The book of Deuteronomy addresses the issue directly in its opening chapters. Note, for example, Deuteronomy 8:6–20, where the possibility is raised that Israel might forget God once they settled happily in the land and were enjoying God’s blessings:
. . . then your heart will become proud and you will forget the LORD your God. . . . You may say to yourself, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.” But remember the LORD your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth. (Deut. 8:14–18)
Likewise the book of Proverbs, while recognizing material abundance as a gift from God, also knows of the dangers:
. . . give me neither poverty nor riches,
but give me only my daily bread.
Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you
and say, “Who is the LORD?”
Or I may become poor and steal,
and so dishonor the name of my God. (Prov. 30:8–9)
This same theme figures prominently in the Gospels, which also place at the heart of prayer the request only for “daily bread” (Matt. 6:11). Material abundance is a blessing here too, but more importantly, an awesome danger:
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matt. 6:19–21)
There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores. . . .
But Abraham replied, “Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed. . . . (Luke 16:19–31)
First Timothy 6:5–10 captures particularly well the thrust of Ecclesiastes 5:8–6:12:
. . . men of corrupt mind, who have been robbed of the truth and who think that godliness is a means to financial gain.
But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that. People who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge men into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.
The present “grief” that often results from a materialistic lifestyle is thus as evident in the New Testament as in the Old Testament, although the New Testament also adds to this a grief that is eternal rather than simply temporal. Eternal consequences arise from the decisions we make about material goods and their place in our lives. What is equally clear from the New Testament, however—and this is also proclaimed in the Old Testament—is that such consequences affect not only us ourselves but other human beings as well. Oppression is as much associated with wealth in the Bible as blessing is, and this oppression is systemic as well as personal. It involves governmental and judicial power, which usually lies in the hands of the rich, and it all too often functions, whether with deliberate intent or simply through neglect, to establish the interests of the rich over against those of the poor (Eccl. 5:8–9).
This is one of the reasons why the words “rich” and “wicked” so often appear closely connected in the Bible and are sometimes used interchangeably (as in Isa. 53:9). The desire for possessions leads on to oppression of the neighbor, often pursued in judicial ways. Note the Old Testament example of Ahab, who desired Naboth’s vineyard (1 Kings 21). A striking New Testament example of this phenomenon is provided by James 5:1–6: We lust as consumers after the good things of life; we end up consuming our neighbor, and eventually ourselves. We do this as groups of people and as individuals. Sin is structural—rooted in our institutions and customs—and not merely personal.
Contemporary Significance
US Navy Radio Communiqué:
Voice 1: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the north to avoid a collision.
Voice 2: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid a collision.
Voice 1: This is the captain of a U.S. Navy ship. I say again, divert your course.
Voice 2: No, I say again, divert your course.
Voice 1: This is the aircraft carrier Enterprise. We are a large warship of the U.S. Navy. Divert your course now.
Voice 2: This is a lighthouse. Your call.
It is one of the great delusions of our time, and of some earlier, more ancient times as well, that the exertion of human power can change the shape of reality. The fact of the matter, however, is that reality is a solid rock with a lighthouse sitting upon it, and we can either alter our course to take account of it or keep on going until it imposes itself on us with force. We can insist all we like, with increasingly strident and authoritative words, that reality should be different, but all the words in the world will not make it so (Eccl. 6:10–12). The reality is this: God has created human beings in his image to love and honor him, to love and respect their neighbors, and to look after the planet on his behalf. That is how the universe is, and all who refuse to accept this in the short term will, sooner or later, have to come to terms with the truth.
The universe is not set up to allow human beings, in the end, to worship idols and, in their pursuit, to exploit other human beings and the rest of creation. It is not designed to allow the sacralization of created things, whereby they become central to human life and evoke religious-like awe and submission that is due only to God. This sacralization the Bible refers to is subsumed under the heading of the worship of Mammon—the idolatrous elevation of money and material things to the status of divinity, which leads on to sins such as covetousness (named as a form of idolatry in Eph. 5:5; Col. 3:5).
Karl Marx assailed this idolatry in these terms:
Money is the Jealous God of Israel before whom no other god may exist. . . . Money is the general, self-sufficient value of everything. Hence it has robbed the whole world, the human world as well as nature, of its proper worth. Money is the alienated essence of man’s labor and life, and this alien essence dominates him as he worships it.4
Yet it is not only the capitalist economic system attacked by Marx that has idolatry at its heart and so dehumanizes what is human. In truth, modern economic ideologies ranging across the entire political spectrum have at their core a utopianism that promises ever-increasing material prosperity. They all buy into the myth of progress via economic growth, facilitated by science and technology as means of control. Beneath the economic systems in themselves, as different as they may be in their strategies for reaching utopia, lies fundamental agreement that utopia exists and that its essence is material well-being. As Herbert Schlossberg puts it, “materialism, coupled with the productivity of machinery and electronics, has brought us the universal expectation of More.”5
The Christian view of the world, however, does not make economics coterminous with life. The Sabbath is one great symbol of this truth, insisting that human beings are not defined in the first instance as workers but as people made in the image of the living God. The Christian view of the world does not confuse wealth with moral worth, nor does it promote greed as a virtue. It certainly does not consider the created order as humanity’s own possession, to be endlessly manipulated and exploited in its own interest. As Schlossberg notes, this biblical view of wealth “seems odd only because we have adopted as normal a way of life that is hopelessly unable to produce what it promises and has demonstrated that inability to almost everyone.”
In fact, it is the worship of the idol that is “odd,” indeed insane, when one realizes that it cannot deliver well-being but only mars human life in its often oppressive demands on our time and energy as workers and in its production within us of unrest and discontent. Destruction is the end of such worship, for, to quote Schlossberg again, “insatiable greed placing infinite claims on finite resources can have no other end.” From this point of view, there is for a Christian nothing to choose between capitalism and communism as economic systems. Both are idolatrous to their core.
The words that often drown out the Word of God on these kinds of issues are those of the advertisers—those great prophets and evangelists of Mammon, who present to us a world in which “mundane products take on magical powers and promise to shape new character, reinforcing the primal subtext of capitalism: one is what one owns/consumes.”6 Perhaps the first step toward defiance of the idols of Mammon among Christians is conscious resistance to their rhetoric and myth-making; yet we will not even realize that the advertisers are telling us lies about reality if we do not take steps first to deal with the hold that the idols they worship also have on our hearts. It is because we share their gods that we feel persuaded by their preaching. As Jacques Ellul rightly tells us:
It is because man experiences consumption as a sacred delirium that he is plunged into the Orphism of yet more, and still more, and that advertising arouses such a sympathetic vibration in him. If he obeys advertising . . . it is, more than anything else, because he has been sensitized beforehand by the worship of consumer goods.7
This brings us to the heart of the matter: Does the church really want to give up the idols of Mammon? God’s people have themselves always shown a propensity to idolatry, almost from the moment of their creation, whether in their desire to construct images (Ex. 32:1–6) or to return to Egypt (14:10–14; 16:1–3; etc.). Their memory of idolatry’s oppression is notoriously short. Paul warns the church in Corinth not to imitate these ancestors (1 Cor. 10:1–14), and John concludes his first letter with this admonition: “Dear children, keep yourself from idols” (1 John 5:21).
Yet only a moment’s reflection should persuade us of the many ways in which the Christian church is caught up in the idolatries of the moment in North America, and among them materialism. Economic performance is widely seen, within the church as much as outside it, as an important measure of individual and societal worth, and the health, happiness, and security of the nuclear family is assumed as an ultimate good that justifies all human enterprise, including the acquisition and disposal of material resources. It is arguable, indeed, that it is love of the family more than anything that fuels the fires of materialism in the West, including among Western Christians. Capitalism is often routinely baptized as self-evidently Christian and other economic systems routinely excommunicated as not, and belief in endless progress, facilitated by scientific and technological control and sound management principles, abounds. It is because this kind of thinking is so deeply internalized among modern Christians that so many find it natural to think of the church in terms of business and management models. The fact of the matter is that the church often displays before the world, not true religion, but only a lightly Christianized version of the world’s own most deeply held prejudices about the nature of reality. Idols are established within the temple itself.
Clearheadedness about reality is required. It is the necessary prerequisite of decisive action against idolatry in our midst. Listening more attentively to the words of Jesus would help: “I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 19:23, italics added). It is hard, for wealth is routinely accumulated in our world through deliberate personal, or neglectful secondhand, oppression of others, and once we possess it, we are not keen to share it around. Christians sometimes behave as if, once we have made it clear that wealth is not necessarily and intrinsically evil in the Bible, we have said all there is to say; but this is not all the Bible has to say. “It is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” If we believed this, we could act. Even if we believed what is obviously and empirically true—that idolatry is bad for human beings—we could perhaps act. We might for these entirely humanistic reasons then be willing to engage in the unmasking of idols, as an expression of love of our neighbor as well as of the true God. For if idolatry is the investment of trust and hope in that which is unworthy of these things and incapable of rewarding them, or will in the short or long term destroy the worshiper and her community or society, then it can hardly be moral behavior to refuse to tell the truth of the matter.
Of course, we cannot necessarily expect that, because our motives are worthy, our message to others will be welcome. The unmasking of idols will always be received badly by society at large, for people do not appreciate it when things they hold to be sacred (gods they revere) are portrayed as, and persuasively argued to be, mere creatures of the worshiper, lacking in substance and benefit—or (worse) the conduits of demonic power. To threaten the position of the gods is to threaten the security of the worshiper, as the apostle Paul found out in Ephesus (Acts 19:23–41), and this will inevitably cause “no little disturbance . . . concerning the Way” (19:23 NRSV).
In a society that has come to think of the individual as a god, to dispute another person’s interpretation of the universe and the ethics that follow from it has come to be regarded as tantamount to blasphemy. False gods cannot be named as such, for truth is only ever personal. If it is true for me, then who are you to say otherwise? To set out to unmask idols will only ever bring pain, then, especially in a culture that has learned to tolerate a wide range of things but remains highly intolerant of truth claims; for one person’s idolatry is always another person’s worship, one person’s abomination always another’s god.
We cannot expect a welcome for our message in society at large, then. What is tragic, however, is that we cannot be certain either of a welcome in the church, which has so widely conformed itself to the culture and has so broadly embraced a pseudogospel that uses Christian faith as an ideological support for “an American way of life,” with all that this currently entails. I dare say I may have already outraged not a few readers of this commentary. This itself will be evidence of just how far whole sections of the modern church have moved away from what was recognized as orthodox Christian faith by our ancestors. Can we imagine many modern preachers in the affluent West addressing their congregations as Ambrose or John Chrysostom addressed earlier generations of Christians?
Not from your own do you bestow upon the poor man, but you make return from what is his.
This also is theft, not to share one’s possessions . . . the rich man is a kind of steward of the money which is owed for distribution to the poor . . . not to share our own wealth with the poor is theft from the poor and deprivation of their means of life; we do not possess our own wealth but theirs.8
Keep your lives free from the love of money, and be content with what you have. (Heb. 13:5)