For the love of money is a root of all sorts of evil, and some by longing for it have wandered away from the faith, and pierced themselves with many a pang.

—1 Timothy 6:10¹

Ben Zoma said… Who is rich? One who is happy with what one has, as it says: “When you eat what your hands have provided, you shall be happy and good will be yours” (Ps 128:2).

—Mishnah, Pirke Avot²

O Bhagavati—who resides amidst lotuses, holds the lotus bloom in her hands, wears white resplendent garments, adorned with fragrant garlands, [Lakshmi], pleasing to the mind, and blessing the three worlds with plenty—shower your benefaction to me.

—Kanakadhara Stotram, verse 15³

I had never met a leper before. But here I was surrounded by several of them at Nirmal Hriday, or “Home of the Pure Heart.” It’s also known as Mother Teresa’s Home for the Dying & Destitute in Kolkata, India. Established in 1952, it is a small hospice for thousands of poor people who are found languishing in the streets. Someone dies there almost every day.

I arrived on an overcast autumn evening. The sick men and women had been gathered into separate areas for supper. The men were dressed in teal shirts, pants, and short-sleeved black sweaters. They were seated close to each other on benches. Near me was a man without legs, quivering on the ground while yellow foam formed underneath his lips. His eyes were fixed in a thousand-yard stare. Another man in a wheelchair began to cough violently, spitting bits of idli sambar, rice cakes and vegetable stew, onto the floor. One of the eight volunteers rushed to remove the food from his mouth so he wouldn’t choke. He put his finger in the man’s mouth, only to have it bitten.

Seated among the sick was an eighteen-year-old volunteer from Toulouse, France. With a brown mop top, he looked like a young Mick Jagger. Hailing from a middle-class background, he recently finished high school, read about Nirmal Hriday on the Internet, booked a one-way ticket to Kolkata, and committed to be a volunteer at the hospice.

He swung his arm over the shoulder of an old man who was suffering from an enormous stomach tumor, as if they were old buddies.

“Time to eat,” he said in French to the man, who probably only spoke Bengali but smiled anyway. Kindness is a common language.

The presence of this vibrant young adult in a room full of old, frail men was curious to me. He was so different not only from them, but also from me. When I was his age, I was burnishing my college application so that I could attend a first-class university. Admission to a good school can mean an opportunity to land a great job. And now that I had a proverbial great job on Wall Street, I continued working at a frenetic pace in order to accumulate more money, which would supposedly take me to higher ground.

This young man wasn’t thinking about any of this. He was unsure when or whether he would attend college at all. It led me to ask: What leads a healthy young man to live among the old and sick, to forgo riches for rags?

“I do as my religion teaches,” he explained. He was raised as a Catholic and his parents regularly read to him the Gospels when he was a child. He then said something I’ll always remember, a paradoxical yet universal insight: “Though everybody here is poor, they are rich in spirit.” His response made me consider another question that has stayed with me: How is it that those who had nothing—at the edge of death—were nevertheless at peace?

Since its creation, money hasn’t been just a measure of wealth; at times it’s been a symbol of our values and a test of our morality. How one handles money has many implications beyond saving and spending, and can demonstrate whether someone honors the moral code of a society: A rich woman who never donates to those in need is judged as stingy, and a poor woman who gives what she can is considered generous. It seems as if the poor person is acting in the “right,” or at least, in a more humane manner. The way in which one uses money may build or destroy one’s reputation and standing in a community, and it certainly demonstrates one’s character. Because money is an expression of value, it matters how it’s expressed.

The manner in which money is expressed depends on one’s motivations. Consider a simple, clarifying way in which to think about our intentions. In the first case, someone wants more money. This view is predicated on the economic logic that more is better. In the second case, someone doesn’t strive for more money, because they have detached from it in search of something else. This view is based on the spiritual logic that less is more or enough is enough, because they are embracing the paradoxical premise that renouncing material wealth will yield spiritual growth and contentment.

Using economic logic, we desire more money because it helps us obtain the resources necessary to survive. Up until this point, this entire book has been predicated on the logic that more is better. Whether it’s our evolutionary algorithm or our reward circuitry in the brain, we are constantly in search of more money, which has come to symbolize attributes like success, status, and privilege. It follows that financial success has become an almost universal goal, and many work diligently in pursuit of this end. A Pew Research Center poll finds that 77 percent of Americans believe that hard work leads to success.4

But wanting more money and status is about “external success,” which shapes and defines many who are engulfed in the competitive “rat race” culture. Yet the pursuit of external success doesn’t always engender personal contentment.⁵ Gallup measured the job satisfaction of 25 million people across almost two hundred countries and found that only 13 percent were “engaged” or “emotionally invested” in their job. They found twice as many “disengaged” workers, who exhibited negative or harmful feelings, as they did engaged workers.⁶ The obsession of making money can have deleterious consequences. In Japan, they even have a word for someone who dies from too much work: karo-shi.

When external success becomes a singular focus, one may begin to evaluate everything with economic logic—the more, the better, even the right. Gallup found that those who believe hard work leads to financial success are more supportive of capitalism. Though support among Americans for free markets dropped from 80 percent to 59 percent in 2010 after the financial crisis, trusting the market has been a mainstay of mainstream US economic thought.⁷ Alan Greenspan and many leading economists long believed that the market is inherently right and self-correcting. The belief that the market is “right” even pervades American literature. In a study conducted by the Library of Congress, Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged was described as “the most influential book on American lives after the Bible.”⁸ The book supports libertarian views, notes the supremacy of the free market, and maintains that business and markets should be deregulated. Financial writer Justin Fox traces the belief that the market is “right” to the Middle Ages:

Hints of the same attitude could be found in the work of early economists like Adam Smith—and even religious thinkers of the Middle Ages. While some medieval scholars argued that lawgivers should set a “just price” for every good… St. Thomas Aquinas among them, held that the just price was set by the market.⁹

The first person to reference the invisible hand wasn’t Adam Smith; it was John Calvin, notes Columbia University humanities professor Mark C. Taylor.10 Calvin believed that God’s hand brought order to an otherwise chaotic world. By using this terminology, Smith changed the “source of order” from “God, to internal relations among individual human actors. From this point of view, the market is a self-organizing system that regulates itself,” writes Taylor.¹¹

However, when market values reign supreme, the line between “right” and “wrong” can be blurred. The profitable can be confused for the “right.” These days almost everything has a price. You can pay someone to write your entire doctoral dissertation. You can even pay someone for their virginity. In one public incident, a Brazilian woman auctioned her virginity for $780,000 to a Japanese man. But is it right? She explained it away: “If you only do it once in your life then you are not a prostitute.”¹² The deal fell through, and she tried to auction it again. Even Judas sells the sacred and betrays Jesus for thirty silver coins, demonstrating that even the messiah’s life had a price.

Harvard professor Michael Sandel writes that when everything is for sale, anything can be bought and subject to corruption.¹³ Putting a price on what was once priceless degrades it. These outrageous acts introduce a market norm into a previously nonmarket arena, similar to the example in chapter 3 in which a Mesopotamian man couldn’t sell his wife unless he was settling a debt.

Ironically, yearning for more external success can leave one with less time, satisfaction, and serenity. The economic logic can yield suboptimal results. This prompts the question, is there another way? Invoking the spiritual logic of less is more may yield superior results. If money symbolizes strength and power, then the lack of it represents the opposite: weakness and impotence. Why would someone want these things? Indeed, the spiritual logic is counterintuitive, yet it is the means to a different end, not financial treasure, but heavenly riches. It’s in experiencing vulnerability that one creates the space and need for faith. If money is a sign of external success, then the detachment from it is about attaining inner peace—where the shadow of money ends and the sunlight of God shines.

When it comes to money, many religious leaders champion the spiritual logic of less is more and the paradoxical wisdom that detachment from material treasures can yield spiritual riches. During different periods, as civilization and markets developed, various religious leaders, like Laozi, Buddha, Jesus, and Muhammad, embraced this paradoxical wisdom. They steered their followers away from coveting material things like money and toward a more ascetic path. These religious leaders sought to enlighten man regarding the outsized power of money. They warned their followers about being enveloped by greed. Considered a deity among some Taoists, Laozi once cautioned that “he who is attached to things will suffer much.”14 That so many religious leaders admonished the worship of money and advocated this paradoxical wisdom deserves further attention.

Anthropologist David Graeber points out that influential religious leaders like Pythagoras, Buddha, and Confucius all lived during the sixth century BC in areas where coinage was invented—Greece, India, and China.¹⁵ He suggests that it’s not a coincidence that from 800 BC to AD 600 both money and several lasting religions were created. It’s plausible that some organized religions spread as a response to the rising importance of the marketplace. Many of Jesus’s earliest followers, for example, were poor and receptive to his paradoxical, liberating wisdom regarding material wealth.

Here we explore the paradoxical wisdom embodied by the teenager I met in the hospice, but through the lens of the three Abrahamic religions and Hinduism. There are countless interpretations of religious texts from these faiths regarding money. But one can surely make a case that elements of this spiritual logic can be found in each.

No Two Masters

As Jesus traveled through Galilee, he taught and healed the sick. He reserved his most famous teaching for when he came upon a throng of followers and delivered the “Sermon on the Mount,” a meditation on how to live. Most biblical scholars consider it to be a template for life as a Christian. It’s a comprehensive instruction, as Jesus spoke about a range of topics from adultery and divorce to fasting and prayer.

When it comes to money, Jesus’s paradoxical wisdom shines through when he says, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth… But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven.”¹⁶ He points out that earthly treasures erode and can lose their value, and are meaningless in the afterlife. What’s the point of being the richest man in a cemetery? Most important, your treasure reveals your priorities, allegiances, and values. Jesus says as much: “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”17 He summarizes his views on money with lucidity: “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”¹⁸ His instruction is clear: Reject the pursuit of money; treasure and cherish God.

Jesus doesn’t qualify his instruction. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus urges his followers to detach from money entirely—to renounce it. A rich man asks Jesus about achieving the heavenly treasure of eternal life. At first, Jesus advises the man to follow the commandments, yet the rich man insists that he has. Jesus ups the ante and urges the man to embrace the paradoxical wisdom of less is more or even nothing is everything by advising him to “sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.”¹⁹ Upon hearing this, the rich man grows sad because it wasn’t the answer for which he had hoped.

Turning to his disciples, Jesus emphasizes his point: “Truly I tell you, it is hard for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”²⁰

Jesus’s remarks undoubtedly surprised the disciples, since the threshold to achieve heavenly treasure is high—to forgo completely earthly riches.²¹ Because the disciples had given up their earthly treasures and filled their hearts with God’s message, Jesus promises that they will sit “on twelve thrones” and “receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life.”²²

There must also be a place in heaven for a certain teenager from Toulouse. By giving up his material well-being and serving lepers, he took to heart the words of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”²³ To be poor in spirit means that one humbly realizes the need for God, the treasure above all others. This young man subscribed to the spiritual logic that less is more, and that nothing is everything. He believed in the paradoxical wisdom of detaching from earthly treasure in order to receive heavenly riches.

But many find the ethical standard for Christians to be unattainable—the renunciation of material items and external success. We desire more money, status, and material success through the economic reasoning of more is better. In some cases, we even pray for more money. Christian author Bruce Wilkinson wrote a bestselling and controversial book, The Prayer of Jabez, which made famous two sentences in 1 Chronicles:

Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” And God granted his request.24

This prayer suggests that it’s okay to ask God for material goods. Wilkinson explains one application of the prayer: “I think God doesn’t want you praying for a pink Cadillac, but he may not say no if you say, ‘I need a new car.’ ”²⁵ Putting the prayer in historical context, Chronicles was written after the Jews had returned from exile to the last remaining province of Israel. Professor Alan Cooper of the Union Theological Seminary says that the prayer makes sense considering the times, as Jews wanted to expand their territories.²⁶

Jabez’s prayer has served as one of the bases of the “prosperity gospel,” which teaches that Christians are rewarded with economic prosperity because of their faith in God. The prosperity gospel is controversial because of the messengers and the message. Many televangelists, some of whom have been implicated in financial scandals, have trumpeted it. The prosperity gospel also runs counter to the teachings of Jesus, who was crystal clear in his call to renounce material wealth.

Jabez’s prayer seems to sanction greed, which, according to the scriptures, is a sin. Paul says that those who practice “jealousy… selfish ambition… envy… will not inherit the kingdom of God.”²⁷ Rev. Daniel Gard, a dean at Concordia Theological Seminary, takes issue with Wilkinson’s book, saying, “American culture is very oriented toward paychecks and big houses. This basically [let’s you] feel good as a religious person and at the same time go after all the stuff in the world.”²⁸ This prayer, this instance of greed, is easy to spot. But the economic logic of wanting more money can also blind us from recognizing greed in ourselves. The blinding nature of greed is a topic that Jesus returns to frequently during his meditations. In the middle of his commentary on money in the Sermon on the Mount, he summons this subject:

The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!29

Jesus is warning about the blinding nature of greed, according to Pastor Timothy Keller of the Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City. Jesus is saying that if you value the right things, and your eyes are working and healthy, you won’t stumble. But if your eye isn’t working, and you treasure the wrong things, you will “darken” your entire body. It’s vital that one’s eye takes in light and works because greed is a sin that’s difficult to spot.

Pastor Keller remembers when he was giving monthly talks on each of the seven deadly sins, such as lust and pride. His wife predicted that his talk on greed would attract a smaller audience. Sure enough, she was right. He concluded that many in the audience thought that greed simply did not apply to them: They couldn’t see their own greed. In his many years of advising church members, he can’t remember a time in which someone confessed the sin of being too greedy or materialistic.³⁰ That’s because, as Jesus indicates, greed has the power to blind us.

When most people think of greed, they envision someone who is wealthier than them. I think of a private equity billionaire I once met who drives a Bentley Continental and owns a Gulfstream V plane. In contrast, I’m a guy in the lower rungs of an investment bank who works hard and saves money for retirement. But it’s all relative. Some friends of mine who don’t earn as much may think of me as greedy or too showy with money.

We infrequently compare ourselves to those who have less. We rarely face the man in the mirror and recognize our own greed and materialism for what it is. In her book The Overspent American, Juliet Schor writes that “the comparisons we make are no longer restricted to those in our own general earnings category, or even to those one rung above us on the ladder. Today a person is more likely to be making comparisons with, or choose as a ‘reference group,’ people whose incomes are three, four, or five times his or her own.”31 As a result, she discovers that many Americans are dissatisfied with their status and financial well-being. The Internet has exacerbated these comparisons. In a study of six hundred Facebook users, almost one-third reported feeling envy because of making upward social comparisons.³² What the researchers call “rampant envy” exposes what can result with economic logic. If we are always comparing ourselves to those with more and chasing external success, is there room for an inner life or any peace?

What is equally troubling is that greed can prevent us from recognizing “right” from “wrong.” Greed can blind us from the problems around us. One of my acquaintances worked at a hedge fund that was accused of insider trading. He told me that he wasn’t personally involved in the alleged crime and frankly didn’t want to know what happened or who was involved. He preferred to turn a blind eye to the suspected crimes in his midst. He’s not alone. When a company engages in improper or illegal activities, an employee who asks unwelcome questions may be committing career suicide. Instead, the employee closes his eye, which darkens the body. In other words, it pays to remain silent, but at a terrible spiritual cost from the Christian perspective.

Many of us subscribe to the blinding economic logic of more is better, and we live in a world in which external success is celebrated widely, but money and greed can still be uncomfortable and unwelcome topics. Jesus didn’t shy away from talking about them. Brigham Young University finds that eight of ten parables in Matthew and nine of twelve parables in Luke reference money in some manner.³³ Some of these parables are well-known, like the Prodigal Son, the Good Samaritan, and the Sower.

In the parable of the Sower, Jesus returns to the theme of blinding greed. He describes a man who scatters seeds in various places. Seeds are strewn in fertile areas, rocky regions, and among the thorns. Seeds in fertile areas yield an abundant harvest, as much as a hundred times over. Seeds in the rocky regions grow quickly but don’t have deep roots. Seeds in the thorns don’t flourish.

Jesus interprets the story for his disciples. The seed is “the word of God,” or message of Jesus.34 The identity of the sower is unclear, but one can infer that it’s Jesus who spreads the word of God. In another parable, Jesus refers to the sower as the “Son of Man,” a term he uses to describe himself.³⁵ Each seed has a different outcome, which depends on the conditions. Because Jesus speaks of his message being “sown in their heart,” the soil likely represents the heart. In the case of the fertile soil, the heart treasures the message, which yields heavenly fruit. In the case of the soil in the rocky regions, the heart welcomes the message, but the person lacks commitment and vanishes at the first sign of persecution. Regarding the seed that is thrown in the thorny areas, Jesus says that it represents “someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful.”³⁶

Jesus is again warning of greed’s blinding nature. The worries of the world, such as money, status, and reputation, make blind the eye to the word of God. They darken the body to the message of Jesus so that it cannot be let in. The message is that a mind or heart caught up with earthly treasures is empty of heavenly ones. Money has the power to deceive one from the true path of eternal life and impair recognition of the paradoxical wisdom that renouncing money leads to spiritual wealth.

This paradoxical wisdom is difficult to accept. Yet Jesus doesn’t advocate the easy path; he urges the righteous one. To buck the buck and renounce money would be a significant change to life as most of us know it. Detaching from money even seems unnatural and anachronistic, guidance that may have been easier to implement in earlier, less complicated times. Yet human greed stands the test of time. In one of his first apostolic exhortations in late 2013, Pope Francis took aim at the idolatry of money found in modern society:

We have created new idols… The worship of the ancient golden calf… has returned in a new and ruthless guise in the idolatry of money and the dictatorship of an impersonal economy lacking a truly human purpose.³⁷

He reasons that it’s greed that leads to an “economy of exclusion” in which the poor suffer. The pope is aghast that many focus more on the daily fluctuations of the stock market than on the plight of the poor. The pope makes the same prevailing point as Jesus, who asks a piercing and paradoxical question that shakes the foundation of a society in which market values reign supreme:

For whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel’s, the same shall save it. For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?38

In order to retain one’s own soul, Jesus says, we must subscribe to the spiritual logic of less is more and nothing is everything. For the promise of this paradoxical wisdom is great—heavenly treasure. Though it seems counterintuitive, in the end we must have faith.

I was impressed with the scale of the operation at the Kolkata hospice: copious staff, food, and medicine. All of these things require money, so I asked one of the sisters how they raise funds.

“Providence,” she replied, beaming. I must have looked incredulous, so she further explained, “God’s will. Faith.”

I took out five hundred rupees, about nine dollars, and gave it to her.

“You see, God sent you here. That is the work of Providence. Would you like a receipt?” she asked.

As much as I admire the work of the sisters, relying on “Providence” struck me as an unrealistic way to cover the costs of daily life, from taxes to taxis. Pastor Ben Witherington III notes that Jesus recognized that money and material items were necessary for daily life on earth. This is exactly what Jesus prays for in the Lord’s Prayer when he asks for daily bread, not supplies that last a year.³⁹ Jesus instructs us to ask for that which we need, not what we want. When it comes to material needs, he advises us to consider the present over the future:

So do not worry, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.40

In raising these questions, Jesus acknowledges the material needs of daily life—food, water, clothes. Before he began his ministry, Jesus was a woodworker or artisan and was probably remunerated for his work, so he understood the links among labor, money, and sustenance.

Indeed, Jesus promised heavenly treasure while also recognizing the necessity of some material things. He was mindful that money was a powerful force in the human world, and being from a small town, he was aware of the agrarian economy around him. The weather greatly impacted the harvest and the economic well-being of farmers, fishermen, traders, and merchants. Galilee and Judea weren’t societies with an incredible amount of specialization or division of labor. People were self-reliant, having to weave their own clothes and grow their own food. It followed that many prayed for the weather to cooperate. That so many of Jesus’s parables involve farming suggests that he understood that it was the economic lifeblood of the people.

Even the beginning and end of Jesus’s life were marked with monetary exchanges: A wise man offered Jesus material wealth, and a foolish one sold him for some. There were many types of money circulating throughout Judea that are mentioned throughout the New Testament: the Tyrian shekel that bore an image of Hercules; the lepta, a coin of low value made from copper; “procurator” coins that were typically made from bronze and were issued by Roman governors like Pontius Pilate.⁴¹ Because Galilee was part of the Roman Empire, Jesus came in contact with Roman money. Jews had to pay various taxes, some of which were passed on to their Roman rulers. An amount of one denarius per year was collected for each boy older than fourteen and each girl older than twelve.⁴² One type of denarius coin circulating in the first century had the inscription “Nero Caesar the divine son of Augustus.” Each letter was given a corresponding numerical value that added up to 666, or the “number of the beast.”⁴³ According to Rev. George Edmunson, it is “a generally accepted solution” that Nero was the beast mentioned in the book of Revelation.44 Devout Christians would later refuse to carry or transact in coins bearing this image.

The denarius is of special interest because Jesus comments directly about it in the Gospels. One of the large Jewish groups known as the Pharisees repeatedly challenged and tested Jesus. Once they tried to trap Jesus by asking him questions about taxes: “Is it right for us to pay taxes to Caesar or not?”⁴⁵ It was a loaded, “no win” question. If Jesus opposed paying taxes, they would turn him over to the Roman authorities for sedition. If Jesus answered yes, then he would anger fellow Jews who loathed paying taxes to Roman overlords. First, Jesus calls out their deception. Next, he asks for them to show him the coin in which taxes are to be paid, since he isn’t carrying any money on him. They show him a denarius that has an image of Caesar. Jesus responds:

Render therefore unto Caesar the things which be Caesar’s, and unto God the things which be God’s.⁴⁶

By sidestepping the question, he provides a politically astute response and again draws a distinction between the secular and the sacred, between earthly and heavenly treasure. The Pharisees can’t blame him for subversion, and the Jewish revolutionaries can’t accuse him of total deference to the Romans. However, by suggesting one should pay Caesar’s taxes, Jesus implicitly recognizes that money is a man-made construct that is difficult to avoid in this world. His answer presents the “spheres of exchange” that were discussed in chapter 3. Just as you don’t pay your aunt cash for cooking Thanksgiving dinner, you can’t buy your way to righteousness. It’s the same line between secular and sacred that Jesus tries to draw when he overturns the benches of moneychangers in the temple courts: “ ‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’ but you are making it ‘a den of robbers.’ ”⁴⁷ In his comment about paying taxes, Jesus notes the limits of Roman money: The currency of Caesar’s empire doesn’t circulate in God’s Kingdom. Each coin has an image of Caesar, but each person is made in the image of God.

Though it’s the wrong currency for the afterlife, we still need money for earthly life. It is also written in the scriptures that the love of money—not money itself—is the root of all sorts of evil. Money is like blood. You need it to live but it isn’t the point of life. Just as one donates blood, the scriptures instruct believers to share their wealth. Jesus mentions to whom one should give—those in need and even one’s enemies: “Love your enemies… lend to them without expecting to get anything back.”48 His message got through to his followers, who understood that material wealth was to be shared:

All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.⁴⁹

Jesus holds up a poor widow as an example of how to share one’s wealth. She gave two coins of low value to the temple. The wealthy people gave larger amounts. Jesus says that the widow gave more than the wealthy: “They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”⁵⁰ The poor widow gave all her wealth. She renounced it, which is in line with the ethical standard of total detachment from money for Christians. She embraced the paradoxical wisdom of faith.

Most of us aren’t willing to donate all of our wealth. But maybe we can interpret her actions in a different light—that she sacrificed her financial well-being. Pastor Keller construes sacrificial giving to mean that one should give in a way that sacrifices one’s lifestyle. Perhaps we should follow the guideline of tithing (10 percent), according to the scriptures. Yet Pastor Keller contends it’s important how we answer the question, “Is there a cross in your economic life?”⁵¹ Author and Christian theologian C. S. Lewis further describes sacrificial giving:

I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare. In other words, if our expenditure on comforts, luxuries, amusements, etc. is up to the standard common among those with the same income as our own, we are probably giving away too little. If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us, I should say they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charities expenditure excludes them. I am speaking now of “charities” in the common way. Particular cases of distress among your own relatives, friends, neighbors or employees, which God, as it were, forces upon your notice, may demand much more: even to the crippling and endangering of your own position.52

Sacrificial giving would lead to reflection upon how we spend our money and whether it adequately reflects our values. By sacrificing financial well-being, we could move away from money, detach from it, and bound toward a life of freedom from material wealth. By subscribing to the spiritual logic that less is more and nothing is everything, the promise of heavenly treasures could be closer at hand.

God’s Abundance

The Torah begins with God creating the world. “And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good.”⁵³ Everything that God made, from the birds and the bees, to man and minerals, belongs to God, and he bestows these things as blessings. There is clear instruction on how to receive more of these blessings, too. Moses advises his people that if they obey the Lord, follow his commandments, and live in a righteous manner, they will receive prosperity and abundance: “He will give the rain for your land in its season, the early rain and the later rain, that you may gather in your grain and your wine and your oil.”⁵⁴

But all too often, humans begin to worship the gift and not the giver, forgetting that we are only temporary custodians for God’s abundance: “As he came from his mother’s womb he shall go again, naked as he came, and shall take nothing for his toil.”⁵⁵ And as such, we shouldn’t confuse fleeting wealth, hoarding or worshipping it, as an everlasting one. When Moses ascends Mount Sinai, he receives the Ten Commandments, which explicitly cast idolatry, including the worship of wealth, as a sin.

You shall not make for yourself a graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.56

However, while Moses is receiving these instructions, his people are violating them. They gather gold earrings, which Aaron fashions into an idol of a calf, a graven image. The people worship the golden calf as a god, burning offerings next to it. God demands that Moses return to his people, who have been corrupted. Moses admonishes his people for their “great sin” of making “gods of gold,” but he pleads with God to forgive them.⁵⁷ Instead, God strikes them with a plague.

Not only did they worship false gods, they exhibited greed, which, according to the Ten Commandments, is also a sin. This commandment goes even further than others, since it prescribes not only how someone should act but also how they should think:

You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his manservant, or his maidservant, or his ox, or his ass, or anything that is your neighbor’s.⁵⁸

As if the commandments weren’t clear enough, the Hebrew Scriptures detail the many problems that result from economic logic, such as arrogance: “But the rich answer roughly.”⁵⁹ Moreover, material wealth is illusory, as one will always want more: “He who loves money will not be satisfied with money; nor he who loves wealth, with gain: this also is vanity.”⁶⁰ Most troubling is that greed blinds people from realizing that it’s God who blesses us with abundance. The benefactor is forgotten:

And when your herds and flocks multiply, and your silver and gold is multiplied, and all that you have is multiplied, then your heart be lifted up, and you forget the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage… Beware lest you say in your heart, “My power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth.” You shall remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth.⁶¹

The blinding nature of greed is also addressed in the Talmud, an important text of Judaism, which was compiled between the third and the fifth centuries AD. It tells the story of Alexander the Great, who once asked a group of rabbis to present him a gift in order to honor him. The rabbis gave him an eyeball. Alexander weighed it against gold and silver, but the eyeball couldn’t be outweighed. The rabbis explained: “It is the eyeball of a human being, which is never satisfied.”62 The rabbis then covered the eyeball with dust and the precious metals outweighed it.

In this story, dust allays greed, but elsewhere in the Hebrew Scriptures, it’s recommended that we see material wealth as dust. During the trials of Job, in which he is deprived of his wealth, it is said to him to “lay gold in the dust.”⁶³ His material possessions are fleeting, like dust, and in the end amount to nothing.⁶⁴ Instead Job must realize, “the Almighty is your gold, and your precious silver.”⁶⁵ This instruction is a rejection of the economic logic that more is better. King Solomon recommends this same path of not chasing riches: “Do not toil to acquire wealth; be wise enough to desist. When your eyes light upon it, it is gone; for suddenly it takes to itself wings, flying like an eagle toward heaven.”⁶⁶ According to Rabbeinu Bachya, a thirteenth-century Spanish scholar of Hebrew Scriptures, the writings of Solomon discourage those who are consumed with the desire to accumulate riches. One’s ability to acquire riches isn’t dependent on one’s wisdom. Even if one obtains wealth, one may not be able to keep it, as it may depart, like a bird that takes flight.⁶⁷

But according to Larry Kahaner, author of Values, Prosperity, and the Talmud, the spiritual logic of less is more doesn’t capture what the Hebrew Scriptures state about material wealth. A more accurate description, he says, is enough is enough, or personal contentment. He writes, “What is important is to be satisfied with the money you have and use it for the good of your family and community.”⁶⁸ One who is content will enjoy the everlasting treasure of God; as it says in Proverbs, “A cheerful heart has a continual feast.”⁶⁹ According to Meir Tamari, author of The Challenge of Wealth, God will bestow abundance on those who have faith.

For those who have faith and are blessed with wealth, King Solomon urges charity and decries blinding selfishness: “He who gives to the poor will not want, but he who hides his eyes will get many a curse.”⁷⁰ For what one reaps, he will also sow: “One man gives freely, yet grows all the richer.”71 Because wealth is seen as God’s blessings, and the Torah says poverty is an everlasting problem, wealthy people must act as virtuous custodians, using their resources to help those in need:

For the poor will never cease out of the land; therefore I command you, You shall open wide your hand to your brother, to the needy and to the poor, in the land.⁷²

God instructs his people on charity: how much to give and to whom. A tithe or one-tenth should be given to those in need, especially widows and orphans. A tithe is the first biblical vow that man makes to God. Jacob promises to provide God a tenth of everything he has—if he can escape his brother, Esau, who is trying to kill him.⁷³ In an agrarian economy, God’s instructions on charity pertain to the harvest. For example, one should not reap the corners of the fields, so that there will be some crops for the poor. God also commands that his people should be charitable with moneylending. They should not engage in usury or charge interest rates on loans to fellow Israelites: “Take no interest from him or increase, but fear your God; that your brother may live beside you.”⁷⁴ Usury is later called an “abomination” in the book of Ezekiel.⁷⁵

Charity is one of the highest virtues in Judaism. The Talmud states that “charity is equal in importance to all the other commandments combined.”⁷⁶ Tsedakah is the Hebrew word for charity, which originates from the root for justice.⁷⁷ The emphasis on charity found in Judaism is exemplified with the tikkun olam, which originates from early rabbinical texts and means “repairing the world.”⁷⁸ It is the call for Jews to be responsible not just for themselves but for the greater community. Tikkun olam is a strong part of modern liberal Judaism, and has inspired many Jews to donate vast sums of money to charity—to lay their treasure to the dust.

A Test of Man

The deprivation of wealth is one of Job’s trials, but within the Koran, the inverse of this test is emphasized. The abundance of māl, which means “wealth” or “property” is a test in itself.79 For Muslims, life is a test—to live in a virtuous manner, according to the principles of the Koran, and to submit to God.⁸⁰ Material wealth is part of this fitnah, or “test of faith,” since it reveals the true nature of a person’s heart.

The Koran portrays this test with a parable of two men, a wealthy man and a poor man. The wealthy man’s gardens bear many fruits. He boasts to the poor man, “I am greater than you in wealth.” He dupes himself into thinking that his garden will never perish. The poor man questions and shames the rich man, asking whether he’s forgotten the power of God: “Although you see me less than you in wealth… It may be that my Lord will give me [something] better than your garden.” Then the gardens are destroyed, and the rich man regrets his folly.⁸¹ The poor man understood the spiritual logic of less is more in terms of material wealth. By believing the economic logic of more is better, the wealthy man failed the fitnah. The Koran makes it clear that wealth is indeed a fitnah:

And know that your properties and your children are but a trial and that Allah has with Him a great reward.⁸²

Not only does the Koran openly declare that material wealth is a fitnah, but it gives clear guidance on how to pass it—to remember to keep one’s faith in God and not be blinded by greed:

O you who have believed, let not your wealth and your children divert you from remembrance of Allah. And whoever does that—then those are the losers.⁸³

If a person passes the test and submits to God, acting according to his will, then the person will reap the bounty of spiritual riches. Similar to the scriptures already discussed, the Koran uses agrarian terms to portray God’s blessings:

The example of those who spend their wealth in the way of Allah is like a seed [of grain] which grows seven spikes; in each spike is a hundred grains. And Allah multiplies [His reward] for whom He wills. And Allah is all-Encompassing and Knowing.⁸⁴

But if a person fails this test, and lusts after the earthly treasure of māl, then there will be dire consequences on Judgment Day, even banishment to hell:

If your fathers, your sons, your brothers, your wives, your relatives, wealth which you have obtained, commerce wherein you fear decline, and dwellings with which you are pleased are more beloved to you than Allah… then wait until Allah executes His command. And Allah does not guide the defiantly disobedient people 85…

And you love wealth with immense love. No! When the earth has been leveled pounded and crushed—And your Lord has come and the angels, rank upon rank, And brought [within view] that Day, is Hell—that Day, man will remember, but what good to him will be the remembrance?⁸⁶

Despite being warned about this fitnah, humans are easily susceptible to failing it. The Koran explains people’s obsession of māl in various ways, from wanting to solidify one’s social status to trying to attain immortality:

Woe to every scorner and mocker. Who collects wealth and [continuously] counts it. He thinks that his wealth will make him immortal.⁸⁷

The temptation of material wealth has always been great. In the seventh century AD, at the time of the Koranic revelations, status in the community was determined by one’s wealth and number of children. Professor of Islamic studies Colin Turner finds eighty-six passages in the Koran that mention māl or the plural amwāl.⁸⁸ According to Monzer Kahf, a scholar of Islamic finance, the Koran doesn’t prohibit māl. He explains, “[Muslims] don’t condemn wealth and riches.”⁸⁹ After all, two of Muhammad’s associates were very wealthy, and Muhammad didn’t condemn them.

Some Koranic passages specify how not to misuse māl, as in giving to charity and then reminding others of one’s generosity. Yet several passages caution against obsession with māl.⁹⁰ That so many passages warn against greed suggests that the community at the time was preoccupied with earthly treasures. The obsession of māl prevented some from recognizing Muhammad, an orphan and once a shepherd, as a prophet. Such a man, devoid of earthly riches, would have difficulty commanding respect in a society that venerates wealth.

Above all, the Koran’s teachings about māl maintain that one must see the clear distinction between earthly and heavenly treasure. The paradoxical wisdom is made clear: Earthly treasure is ephemeral; God’s is eternal:

And do not extend your eyes toward that by which We have given enjoyment to [some] categories of them, [its being but] the splendor of worldly life by which We test them. And the provision of your Lord is better and more enduring.91

Jesus makes a similar distinction in the Sermon on the Mount. Muslims see the Koran as the continuation and conclusion of God’s message that was revealed to prophets like Moses, Job, and Jesus. Many of the Koran’s teachings on how to handle wealth are akin to those found in other Abrahamic faiths. For example, the Koran forbids the worship of graven images. It also recounts the story of the golden calf to illustrate the consequences of idolatry: “Indeed, those who took the calf [for worship] will obtain anger from their Lord.”⁹² The Koran also maintains that everything belongs to God, as he created the world:

To Him belongs what is in the heavens and what is on the earth and what is between them and what is under the soil.⁹³

God’s gift creates a gratitude-induced obligation for humans, who must serve as the temporary and righteous trustee of God’s abundance. The relationship between God and humans is that of amanah, or trust to do the right thing and fulfill God’s will. Devout Muslims see their blessings, from money to children, as belonging to God, so they try to act in line with the principles established in the Koran. A paramount principle is to “do thou good,” according to the Koran:

But seek, with the (wealth) which Allah has bestowed on thee, the Home of the Hereafter, nor forget thy portion in this world: but do thou good, as Allah has been good to thee, and seek not (occasions for) mischief in the land: for Allah loves not those who do mischief.94

One of the ways to “do thou good” is charity. One of the pillars of Islam is almsgiving, or zakat, which is mentioned in more than thirty passages in the Koran. Every Muslim who has the resources must give to the poor. The root of zakat means “purify” and “growth.” In giving zakat, one cleanses wealth of greed—circulating God’s gift to others, thereby sustaining this spiritual gift economy. The Koran doesn’t denote how much, but tradition set by Muhammad suggests 2.5 percent of one’s income per year. The Koran specifies various groups that should receive these donations, from fuqara, or the poor, to the al-gharimin, those who can’t repay their debts.⁹⁵

Another way to “do thou good” is not to make someone al-gharimin in the first place. The Koran forbids riba, which has a literal translation of “excess” or “increase” but has come to mean “interest” or any increment over the principal of a debt.⁹⁶ The Koran describes usury as “consuming of the people’s wealth unjustly” and says that those who engage in it will experience a “painful punishment.”⁹⁷ At the time of the Koranic revelations, riba was considered to sever the link between labor and capital, since one could make money without producing value for society. Over the centuries, Islamic scholars have debated the translations and meaning of riba.⁹⁸ If it means zero interest rates on loans, then the standard banking practice of lending with interest goes out the window. In order to comply with strictures on riba, Islamic banks have created at least twenty-one different types of business models, from levying service charges to structuring payment installments.⁹⁹

Let Go

Indra, the Hindu god of the heavens, was supposed to defend the world against evil spirits known as asuras. He had largely succeeded because Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and good fortune, was by his side. One day, a wise man named Durvasa came across Indra, who was riding on an elephant. Durvasa gave Indra a garland of holy flowers, which Indra placed on his elephant’s head. The elephant threw the garland to the ground. Durvasa was alarmed to see his gift treated so poorly, and he cursed Indra to lose his powers and good fortune. Lakshmi grew angry at Indra’s arrogance and greed, and she descended into the milky ocean.100 The gods were subsequently defeated in battles against the asuras. The gods reached a rapprochement with the asuras by promising to share the amrita, or nectar of immortality from the ocean. Together they spent a thousand years churning the waters by using a mountain as a pole and a serpent as the rope—which eventually poisoned the asuras.

Finally, Lakshmi emerged standing on a lotus flower and with lotus flowers in her hands. A sacred elephant showered her with holy water from the golden jug it held in its trunk. A renowned craftsman gave her the most exquisite jewelry. All the other deities sang hymns of praise to welcome her. After accepting the gifts, Lakshmi joined Vishnu, one of the primary gods, as his consort. Her presence ushered in an era of prosperity in which the gods reigned supreme.¹⁰¹

This story is laden with symbolism. The milky waters indicate the pastoral, agrarian economy of ancient times, in which milk was an important sustainer of life. The milk also represents the maternal, nurturing aspects of Lakshmi. The lotus flower blooms in the mud, its petals above the water, and it therefore symbolizes beauty and hope. It also represents, according to R. Mahalakshmi, a professor of Indian history, a “womb floating on the primordial waters.”¹⁰² The elephants signify royalty and confer regality to Lakshmi.

Over the thousands of years in which stories have been retold about this goddess, there have been various depictions of her. In one familiar portrait, she holds a banana and sugarcane to represent a rich harvest. In another, she has a child in her lap who embodies potential wealth for a family. And in others, she has golden-hued skin, is festooned with golden jewelry and ornaments, and is spraying gold coins from her palms into golden pots.

Hindu mythology is replete with stories of Lakshmi and her various incarnations, because she represents auspiciousness, wealth, and beauty. She is praised as a devout consort to Vishnu, and their relationship represents marital stability. One common depiction is of Lakshmi massaging Vishnu’s feet. In years past, she was held up as an ideal for Indian women, but that is slowly changing.¹⁰³ Nevertheless, in Bollywood movies, several famous female characters are named after her, and a new baby girl is supposedly the arrival of Lakshmi into one’s family.104 New daughters-in-law also symbolize Lakshmi, and the amount of gold she wears on her wedding day is an indication of how much wealth she will bring to the new family.¹⁰⁵ To pray to Lakshmi doesn’t mean that one is a money-grubber. Remember that it was Lakshmi who protested Indra’s greed. Many respect Lakshmi for her virtuousness.

In India, she has inspired some of the biggest festivals and largest temples. Every autumn brings the five-day festival of Diwali, or the “festival of lights.” In some regions, the first day is known as Dhanteras, which involves prayers known as Lakshmi puja. Villagers decorate their cows, the source of their earnings. Families clean their homes and light lamps to welcome Lakshmi and repel evil spirits. Businesses reset their accounting ledgers and ask for blessings in the New Year. Little footprints are drawn on the floor in preparation of Lakshmi’s arrival.¹⁰⁶ Many buy gold coins and metal utensils. They also gamble: Every year at this time, my taxi driver in Kolkata plays cards with his five friends. They believe that whoever wins will have good fortunes for the upcoming year. He blamed the card game he lost as the reason why he failed to get a better job as a driver at a top hotel.

In Delhi, I visited the iconic Laxminarayan Temple, which is dedicated to Vishnu and Lakshmi. While I examined one of the wall etchings, a priest put a red tika, or mark, on my forehead.

“Lakshmi will bless you with good fortune,” he said.

A bit surprised, I managed to say, “Thank you.”

He stared at me. I stared back. Then I got the message. I gave him a few rupees and he disappeared.

Lakshmi has long been part of India’s monetary history, too. During the Gupta Empire in the fourth and fifth centuries AD, the kings issued coins with images of Lakshmi on them, in hopes that Vishnu would bless their kingdom.¹⁰⁷ In the eleventh century, the Chauhan kings, who ruled much of what is modern-day Rajasthan, India, made silver coins with impressions of Lakshmi.¹⁰⁸ During the eighteenth century, French colonists in Pondicherry, India, issued coins with images of Lakshmi. Even today, because of the association of Lakshmi and money, many regard money as a gift from the divine. Some will even apologize if they desecrate money by accidentally dropping it on the floor.

In the Hindu pantheon, Lakshmi serves as a focal point for comprehending the nexus of Hinduism and wealth. But this goddess shouldn’t be the only topic of study. Hinduism is an ancient amalgamation of copious myths and contradictory philosophies that lack a central leader or commandments. Two of these incongruous beliefs, artha and moksha, relate to money and deserve further attention.

According to the Vedas, ancient Hindu texts that date back to 1500 BC, there are four aims of life, known as purusārtha, or “that which ought to be sought”: (1) dharma, duty; (2) artha, wealth; (3) karma, pleasure; and the ultimate goal, (4) moksha, liberation.109 Artha is the accumulation of external successes and earthly treasures like money, image, and status. Moksha is partly about the renunciation of these things and embracing the paradoxical wisdom of spiritual riches. These two aims blur the lines between what is supposedly secular and sacred.¹¹⁰ But the lines must be blurred. Instead of shunning the pursuit of material wealth, Hinduism arguably embraces it: An understanding of artha is that humans need material items like money to live. The economic logic of more is better is necessary up to a point, since nobody wants compulsory poverty. Praying to Lakshmi, a mythological manifestation of artha, should be to avoid suffering wrought by poverty and misfortune. The same can be said for several other regional wealth deities, like the Buddhist goddess Vasudhārā, who is supposed to help alleviate poverty, bestowing material and spiritual abundance.

The larger point is that the purusārtha balance each other and are interdependent. It’s not okay to pursue artha while violating dharma—one’s duty to do what’s morally right. However, without experiencing the limitations of earthly treasure, one is unlikely to recognize the need to renounce it: You need artha to attain the awareness of moksha.¹¹¹ Without the emptiness that results from the economic logic of more is better, you’ll never realize the need for the spiritual logic of less is more. It’s a gradual process that one undergoes through life. The purusārtha correspond to the four stages life, which are (1) brahmacharya, student; (2) grihastha, householder; (3) vanaprastha, hermit; and (4) sannyasi, renouncer.¹¹² In the first two phases of life, one needs and pursues artha, making money to live. After fulfilling one’s material duties to family, for instance, one seeks moksha in the two final stages of life. Scholars have even suggested that the purusārtha correspond to times of the day: Remembering one’s dharma should be part of morning rituals, and artha should be reserved for the daytime.113 It’s this lesson of interdependence, of artha preparing the way for moksha, that Lord Krishna provides his pupil Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita, a central text of Hinduism:

Pleasures from external objects are wombs of suffering, Arjuna. They have their beginnings and their ends; no wise man seeks joy among them.¹¹⁴

This suffering is the realization that earthly riches like money are, as Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, fleeting and perishable. In Buddhism, suffering is the first of the Four Noble Truths: Life is full of dukkha, which means “pain” or “anxiety.” Money is part of this suffering. It is maya, or an illusion. If you define yourself according to wealth or the lack thereof, you can easily lose your self-worth. It’s this sorrow that leads one to look for something richer. Just as Lakshmi protested and inhibited Indra’s greed, moksha extinguishes artha.

It’s the wise person who seeks moksha. According to the Hindu tradition, humans are caught in a cycle of reincarnation, in which one is reborn as a different being that experiences human emotions and desires—like lusting after money. How one lives in the current life determines the circumstances of the next life. Living righteously, as by donating money to charity, elevates one to a higher plane until one can break free from the maya of the material world—to a place devoid of money, markets, and mankind. This is liberation, or moksha, when a person’s soul merges with the supreme. In Buddhism, moksha is known as nirvana, which means “to extinguish,” as, for example, all desires and material needs.

The Bhagavad Gita mentions various paths to achieve moksha. But the theme that keeps coming up is the paradoxical wisdom of detachment, renunciation, and letting go—only then will humans be liberated and achieve the everlasting:

A man unattached to sensations, who finds fulfillment in the Self, whose mind has become pure freedom, attains an imperishable joy… He who controls his mind and has cut off desire and anger realizes the Self; he knows that God’s bliss is nearer than near… when desire, fear, and anger have left him, that man is forever free.115

In other words, there should come a time in one’s life when one renounces money, external success, and indeed all worldly things, like belongings, status, and image. Renunciation can happen only if one abandons all desires and fears.

Adopting the spiritual logic of less is more is very much an internal mental battle. Neuroscientist Andrew Newberg of the University of Pennsylvania examined the brain activity of Buddhist monks while they meditated, moving toward nirvana, and found that the prefrontal regions activate.¹¹⁶ This brain region is the seat of reason, gives rise to our consciousness, and makes us human. These studies seem to reinforce what spiritual leaders have long known: It’s in forgetting money that we remember ourselves.

Symbolic Attachment

In a world in which almost everything is valued in terms of money, faith can be a refuge, a spiritual dam to the flood of money flowing through the rest of the world. In the humanities, such as religion and art, there is arguably less focus on the accumulation of wealth and more on how one lives—whether one is kind, generous, and content.¹¹⁷ By revisiting ancient religious texts and the teachings of the spiritual masters, we glean rich guidance on how to live with money.

Across these faiths, the spiritual logic of less is more (or enough is enough) is presented as a powerful instruction. It’s this lesson that the teenager at the Kolkata hospice took to heart when he detached from his material possessions and served among lepers. His faith helped him remember what’s important. The lepers, those on the edge of death, showed that those with nothing can be grateful and content. My trip to the hospice helped me see how the economic logic of more is better was shaping and driving me. My research into different religious traditions reveals that the attachment to money can lead to a life devoid of personal contentment. But used in the right way, money is an instrument to be shared, and can promote human flourishing. Paradoxically, the purpose of making money seems to be to share it with others.

But some people have come to see money, the object itself, in a different way. The art on money can tell the story of our shared past. The symbols stamped and printed are a reflection not only of value but of what we have valued, across different societies, cultures, and the entire sweep of modern human civilization. My quest led me to folks all around the world who taught me to look more closely at money, and to consider how it’s a symbol of our values.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Angel Investors

Religion and money

No Two Masters

God’s Abundance

A Test of Man

Let Go

Symbolic Attachment