In today’s epistle, St. Paul instructs his protege, Timothy, that if he’s to lead a “a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity” it’s necessary “to come to knowledge of the truth.” Then, in today’s gospel, Jesus teaches his disciples this knowledge of truth includes being aware they cannot serve two masters. They will either “hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other.”
Over the years, we’ve heard this truth so many times we take for granted what Jesus said about not serving both God and mammon. But we overlook a rather startling element of the lesson:
I tell you, make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth.
“Make friends…with dishonest wealth”? How could Jesus teach this?” Dishonest wealth is ill-gotten gain, a way of life that serves mammon not God.
Jesus couldn’t mean this, could he?
A bit of etymology helps answer the question.
In Hebrew and Aramaic, the word “wealth” doesn’t narrowly connote as it does in English “money” (“mammon,” in Greek, “mamona”). In both Hebrew and Aramaic, “wealth” connotes more broadly anything obtained through evil means—sin, wickedness, and injustice, to name but a few. That is, “the wealth of iniquity” or “the wealth of unrighteousness” (in Greek, “mamona ths adikias”).
The term connotes wealth, yes.
But, in Jesus’ native tongue, wealth connotes all those things we count upon to enjoy a nice, smooth, predictable, and comfortable daily life in this world. For example: a home with running water, working sewage, and electricity for heating and air-conditioning; a job enabling us to pay our bills and add to our savings; automobiles and gasoline to motor around town; grocery stores for shopping; banks and brokerage accounts for saving our wealth; malls and online venues to make purchases of everything we possibly could want; and, other such “modern” conveniences.
In the Jesus’ native tongue, “wealth” also connotes all those oftentimes forgotten things we depend upon and use to pattern our days in this world so they are nice, smooth, predictable, and comfortable. For example: the continuity of time, the work week and weekend, the school year and summer months of vacation, national and religious holidays, and the like.
Lastly, in Jesus’ native tongue, the term connotes all those things we depend upon and which define us as we live out our days in this world so that people will respect, honor, and treat us well so that our days will be nice, smooth, predictable, and comfortable. For example: Our marriages, families, and friends; our beliefs and opinions; our faith and its practice; our jobs and civic engagements; and, our apparel and possessions, among others.
The question is: Should we befriend all these things which we count upon to experience a nice, smooth, predictable, and comfortable daily life in this world that Jesus characterized as “dishonest wealth”?
Given the term’s Hebrew and Aramaic connotations, at least three reasons—which intersect like Venn diagrams—help to explain how Jesus might respond to that question and was teaching his disciples. These reasons don’t exclude one another, with the degree of overlap among the three varying from individual to individual, that overlap depending upon which reason any individual currently emphasizes.
The first reason which might explain why Jesus characterized those things we count upon to lead our lives in this world as “dishonest wealth” is that they’re obtained illegally...thus promoting injustice. Simply put, that’s theft, a violation of the eighth commandment. For people of this world, the remedy for this injustice requires reparation, that is, returning what’s been ill-gotten to the party or parties from whom this wealth was illegally seized. In this way, a thief atones for the illegal act and brings back into proper balance the scales of justice upon which good order in any society in this world depends so that people will enjoy smooth, predictable, and comfortable daily lives.
Important as this kind of natural justice is for daily life and commerce in this world, this doesn’t seem to be the point Jesus is making when he teaches his disciples to “make friends with dishonest wealth.” After all, Jesus couldn’t possibly promote violating the eighth commandment!
Instead, consider how Jesus praised the man who obtained his wealth illegally not for being a thief—stealing or embezzling what belonged to others—but for his determination to be clever in worldly matters.
Befriending dishonest wealth always ends in injustice. For this reason, Jesus is teaching his disciples is that if they, and everyone else for that matter, were only as clever and thoughtful in the matters associated with daily life in God’s kingdom—spiritual and moral matters—the scales of justice upon which good order in any society in this world depends would be rendered unnecessary if not irrelevant.
This interpretation identifies what disciples need to learn: To befriend dishonest wealth to learn from its effects to be determined to be clever in spiritual and moral matters so as to avoid conducting themselves unjustly in this world.
That interpretation provides the second reason that might explain why Jesus characterized all those things we count upon to lead our lives in this world as “dishonest wealth”: This-worldly wealth tends to lead people into iniquity, that is, to become dishonest, corrupt, and to make compromises with the world.
Even though people across history have been very aware of this correlation—simply by observing how those who have made friends with dishonest wealth eventually perpetrate iniquity—they still have wanted to be rich in the things of this world, each of which can only be acquired with money. While money, possessions, and wealth aren’t intrinsically evil in themselves, they do tend to lead people into temptation and, thus, to become dishonest, corrupt, and to make compromises with the world by allowing money, possessions, and wealth to taint their decision-making process and gradually allow wealth to become their “mammon of iniquity.”
Jesus is teaching his disciples that the temptation to desire the things of this world will lead them to sin—to be dishonest, corrupt, and make compromises with the world—all of which demonstrates a lack of the kind of virtue characterizing citizens of God’s kingdom. It’s not the money or possessions—the wealth—that are evil. Instead, it’s that they tempt human beings to become sinful rather than virtuous, evil rather than moral, citizens of this world rather than of God’s kingdom.
This second interpretation identifies something else which disciples need to learn: To befriend dishonest wealth to learn from its effects to be determined to be clever in spiritual and moral matters so as to be able to surmount the temptations wealth presents in this world.
A third reason Jesus might have characterized those things we count upon to lead our lives in this world as “dishonest wealth” is because wealth is derived from this world which is itself corrupt and unjust. Thus, all the wealth the world can provide—money and possessions, in particular—is infected by injustice and vice, both of which are poisonous to the soul and, thus, antithetical to life in God’s kingdom.
Consider the natural and created resources God has freely and generously bestowed upon humanity.
In this world, those resources aren’t distributed based upon actual need but the power of individuals, groups, and nations to acquire and possess those resources, leading to an unequal distribution of resources. Historically, this inequity has begotten all kinds of injustice and vice where the wealth of iniquity ends up being hoarded—as the possession of the few—leaving the many to suffer. But, more importantly, the few oftentimes have acquired the wealth of iniquity on the backs of the many whose underpaid labor serves to increase the convenience and comfort of the few while impoverishing the many. It also insulates the few from having to care about those laborers and their needs, for example, their food, education, medical care, and other essentials that sustain life in this world.
Jesus appears to have been teaching his disciples that they need to be aware of how this world operates—by its own rules not God’s commandments—and how people who are motivated by injustice and vice hoard for themselves what God has freely and generously bestowed upon humanity. Although his disciples might be able to change those rules, they must not allow political, “this-worldly” considerations to distract them from “keeping their eye on the ball,” that is, remaining conscious of others’ needs.
For example, disciples need to focus upon whether they need all the things of this world they so very much desire. According priority to themselves, might the money disciples willingly spend on everything they want be better spent by providing for those who lack the essentials they need to survive in this world?
Jesus didn’t require his disciples to befriend the poor by sharing with them their net worth—their ill-gotten “mammon of iniquity.” Such “charity” is corrupt—the wolves leading the sheep to slaughter—because it tempts those with little or no net worth to desire and seek wealth for themselves—the money and possessions it can afford them. While such charity may assist the poor to escape poverty, it may come at a great moral and spiritual cost: Succumbing to the temptation to participate in injustice and vice...just like those whose “charity” has has “saved” them from the clutches of poverty.
This third interpretation identifies another lesson disciples need to learn: To befriend dishonest wealth to learn from its effects to be determined to be learned and clever about moral and spiritual matters so as to remain consciousness of and sensitive to others’ needs in this world.
Jesus might have been teaching his disciples any one of or all these lessons. Depending upon a particular moment in time or history, one lesson may be more critical for disciples but not exclusionary of the others. Yet what binds these three lessons together—where they intersect like a Venn diagram—is Jesus’ insistence that injustice and vice in this world are so rife that all wealth—the money and possessions it affords—is tainted, that is, rooted in ill-gotten gain because those who possess it have done so through injustice and vice. For this reason, Jesus may very well have concluded that this-worldly wealth—all of it—is unclean, just as pork was for both Jesus and his culture.
Perhaps it’s for this reason that when Jesus said to his disciples they should “make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth,” he added “so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”
Disciples—whether they’re rich, poor, or anywhere in between—must “make friends with dishonest wealth” if only because they require a certain modicum of it to survive in this world. But they shouldn’t become enamored with or ensnared by this-worldly wealth and what it affords them to the point that it rules them. Instead, and if they are to be “welcomed into eternal dwellings,” his disciples must remain vigilant like sentries guarding the city’s gates, firm in the knowledge that “dishonest wealth” inevitably will corrupt them both spiritually and morally. Moreover, it also can corrupt those with whom they share their ill-gotten “mammon of iniquity” and introduce greater injustice and vice across the globe.
The antidote to this propensity—how we can become “WOKE” Catholics who will be “welcomed into eternal dwellings”—is to identify how and to change the way we’ve befriended and have been enslaved by wealth in this world and thus have forsaken what we truly need to live in this world as citizens of God’s kingdom. Yes, wealth does make it possible to possess many things that bring temporary comfort and a certain amount of predictability to our daily lives in this world. But wealth cannot purchase the wealth of virtue that characterizes the daily life of those who are citizens of God’s kingdom.
That represents this week’s challenge from scripture: To calculate and then to reflect prayerfully upon our “this-worldly” net worth.
To make that calculation, conduct this memento mori each day this week (whether on paper or a computer doesn’t matter):
- Begin by taking a few minutes today to cobble together a list of all you currently need to make it through each day (e.g., food, shelter, clothing, electronic devices, medicines, spouse, family, friends). Assign a rating to each item in terms of its importance—from a “one” (“it’s not terribly important”) to “five” (“I can’t live without it”).
- Each new day this week, review and contemplate this list, adding to it anything that may have been have overlooked. In addition, revise any previous rating as may be necessary.
- After compiling the final list next Saturday, rank order what’s on it from the items rated as “five” all the way down through what’s been rated as “one”—from those most importabnt things you couldn’t live without this week to those things that were less important. Then, draw a horizontal line to separating the “fives” from the others.
Examining that list of the “fives,” answer this question: How many of those items represent what Jesus called “dishonest wealth” because they inevitably have corrupted you this week spiritually and morally—the ill-gotten “mammon of iniquity”—all of which has absolutely nothing to do with God’s kingdom?
The simple fact is that each and every item is transitory, will pass away, and be rendered unimportant as has every form of “dishonest wealth” throughout history. For example, you may have assigned a “five” to a medication or a smartphone because it’s a necessity for life in this world. But that medication or smartphone isn’t going to be of any help whatsoever if our desire is to live in God’s kingdom and “be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”
The lesson? Consider Queen Elizabeth II’s imperial crown, studded with priceless jewels and displayed beside her casket. What good does what that crown and all her this-worldly possessions—she was the richest woman in Britain—going to do for her now? While we may want all those kinds of things and befriending them isn’t itself evil, they will tempt us and enslave us so that spend our days in this world serving mammon not God, forsaking our citizenship in God’s kingdom.
Doing “this, in memory of me” is yet another way we gradually will arise from our slumber and wake from our sleep, assisted by God’s grace, to put being “sleepy” Catholics into the past. Given time and practice to learn to value what’s of ultimate value for citizenship in God’s kingdom, we will increasingly become “WOKE” Catholics and experience the fulfillment of the promise made to us on Christmas Eve: “They shall name him ‘Emmanuel,’ that is, ‘God is with us’.” We will then live in this world as citizens of God’s kingdom who have befriended dishonest wealth and one day “be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”
Jesus challenges us today to recall that our personal comfort comes at a higher cost than the balance on our monthly credit card or bank statements indicate. Our “net” worth—our accumulated “dishonest wealth”—is the product of our complicity in injustice and vice, providing a clear indication of how we’ve become “sleepy” Catholics—disciples who have grown dishonest, corrupt, and made compromises with this world by allowing money, possessions, and wealth to become our “mammon of iniquity.”
As we conduct this week’s memento mori, recall the advice St. Paul provided St. Timothy in this regard:
Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life. (1 Timothy 6:17-19)
What it will take for us to heed St. Paul’s advice is to contemplate and reflect each day upon our “this-worldly” net worth and to align our priorities with those of God’s kingdom. Then, whenever our net worth fails us just as it has Queen Elizabeth II—and as it always does and will fail every human being—the virtues of God’s kingdom will gradually characterize us. Then, the promise of our faith will be fulfilled: We will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.
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