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February 6, 2022 | 10:00 a.m.

Things Jesus Never Said:
“Money Is the Root of All Evil”

Shannon J. Kershner
Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Isaiah 58:1–12
Matthew 6:19–21

Today is our last sermon in our new year series entitled “Things Jesus Never Said.” By this point, we now know that Jesus never said “You Get What You Deserve.” Nor did Jesus say “Follow Your Heart.” Reverend Morrow reminded us that Jesus never said “God helps those who help themselves,” and last week, Reverend Dr. Forster-Smith preached that Jesus never said “Hate the sin but love the sinner.” Today, we are going to look at something else Jesus never actually said. We cannot find Jesus saying “Money is the root of all evil” anywhere in scripture.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Jesus said a lot about money. As a matter of fact, scholars who count these things once reported that Jesus talks more about money than he does about anything else. Honestly, our entire library of sacred writings we call the Bible is chock full of talk about money. I found research that declares money is referenced in scripture more than 800 different times. And yet scripture does not have just one voice in regards to money.

In parts of scripture, particularly in Psalms and in Job, riches and wealth are associated with God’s approval and blessing. But in others, like the prophets, people are chastised for storing up wealth for themselves and purposefully neglecting the poor, the widow, and the orphan (biblical shorthand for all those on the margins of power and privilege).

Once we get into the New Testament, we hear even more perspectives about money. In the Gospel of Luke, we listen as Mary sings the Magnificat in which she testifies to God’s coming reversal for the haves and the have-nots. Later we hear Jesus declaring things like “Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.” In Matthew, the Gospel from which we just heard, not only do we observe Jesus talking about where our treasure is there our heart will be also, but he also tell us we cannot serve both God and wealth, as well as how hard it is for a rich person to enter into the kingdom of God.

Many of the parables Jesus uses as teaching tools directly contrast our economy built on a fear of scarcity with God’s economy built on a foundation of abundance. And in Paul’s letters to various churches, he both speaks warnings of accumulating possessions and money while also calling for a monetary offering to support the ministry of those early faith communities. These are just a few of those 800 passages in the Bible that talk about money or possessions. And yet do you know what Jesus never said? He never said that money is the root of all evil.

Now, some of you might be wondering if I am mistaken. I totally understand why you would think that, for in the letter we call 1 Timothy, the writer of the letter does say something similar. “There is great gain in godliness combined with contentment,” he writes, “for we brought nothing into the world, and therefore we can take nothing out of it; but we have food and clothing, we will be content with these. Those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich, some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains.”

Now notice that even the person writing to Timothy does not say that money is the root of all evil either. Listen again to what is actually written: “for the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.” So while a version of that saying is indeed a part of our holy writ, not only is Jesus not the one saying it, but what is written is much more nuanced and complicated than an outright denunciation.

A good friend of mine, the Reverend Jenny McDevitt, once served in conference leadership alongside John Bell. Some of you may know who he is. Reverend Bell is a Scottish hymn writer, a member of the Iona Community, a valued interpreter of Celtic Christianity, and an unwavering activist for justice. In short, for many of us Presbyterians, John Bell is a big deal. At that conference, he was the preacher, and he was asked to help the whole conference leadership team get to know each other a little bit before the week began. He decided to lead them in an icebreaker.

As they sat down in a circle, Reverend Bell asked them to write down one question that everyone in the whole group would have to answer. According to Jenny, some of them went the expected routes: What is your favorite snack food; How far did you travel to get here; What’s one thing you hope will happen this week. When it was John’s turn to ask, his question was, If you were given $1000 with no strings attached, what would you do with it?

Most of those leaders sitting in that circle mentioned long-anticipated travel or buying books they had been eyeing for a while or paying off student loans. After everyone answered, John asked if he could have a second question. Of course, he could, Jenny responded. He was, after all, John Bell. This was his second question: If you were given $1000 with the one stipulation that you could not spend any of it on yourself, what would you do with it? People were a little less quick with those responses, but they still answered in respectable ways.

In closing, Reverend Bell made this statement: “Look, don’t worry about having money. Just be worried about what you do with it.” Those words lingered in the air and remained in my friend’s imagination much longer than just that one week. “Don’t worry about having money. Just be worried about what you do with it.”

Now that does sound like something Jesus might say. “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Let’s just state some truth: Money is a reality of living in our world, and there is no escaping it. It affects everyone—regardless of means. It is a kind of tool, an instrument that can be used for good or for bad. Yet money itself is not evil. But the way we use it, the attitude we have surrounding it, what we communicate with it, the power we give to it—now that is where evil can creep in.

I remember hearing a sermon once in which the preacher said if you really want to know what someone believes about God, look at their checkbook register (or these days, glance at their online bank statements). For the relationship we have with money, what we choose to spend it on, the power it can wield in our lives—those things do communicate a great deal about who we are and about what matters the most to us.

As the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, has written, “Money is an instrument that can allow us to build relationships of abundance and grace.” But he doesn’t stop there. Rather, he continues, “Wealth is not of itself seen as evil in the Bible. Its malicious power is confined to the times in which it sits in power over us, rather than in service to us” (Justin Welby, Dethroning Mamoon: Making Money Serve Grace).

In other words, do we let whatever money we have shape our lives, shape us, or, do we use it to shape the life of our world to be more in accordance with God’s dream for creation? Again, the way we use it, the attitude we have surrounding it, what we communicate with it, the power we give to it, those are the distinctions on which we are to focus. Whom do we serve—God or wealth? Who possesses us—God or our possessions? Those are important questions to ask, for as Walter Brueggemann quips, “When[ever] the giver of all gifts is forgotten, the gifts themselves are sure to be distorted in destructive ways” (Walter Brueggeman, Money and Possessions, Interpretation Series. 3).

The late amazing preacher and professor Peter Gomes, former minister of the Memorial Church at Harvard and former Professor of Christian Morals, once told a story of the value of money. When he was a young preacher, he went to work for the Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, now Tuskegee University, an HBCU. In his role, he was often invited to preach in the pulpits of small, rural, Black Baptist churches — places he described as “tiny, hard-scrabble places that rejoiced in such mellifluous names as Mount Pisgah, Zion’s Hill, St. John of Patmos, and Ebeneezer.”

Now, back in those days (perhaps still today), in those churches they paid the guest preacher by taking up a love offering after the sermon. Dr. Gomes said, “The people were almost always generous-hearted and grateful for the attentions and efforts of a young man new to the ministry and new to them. And so early on, I refused these offerings on the grounds that these poor people and their poor church needed the money more than I did, since I had a decent salary from the institute, after all, and it was my pleasure to give.”

“In fact,” he confessed, “it made me feel quite morally superior to decline these gifts and to give them back. I knew even then that giving was essentially an expression of [a kind of] power.” Feeling rather proud of himself, he mentioned that practice to the dean at Tuskegee. But she was not one bit impressed. In fact, she lectured him “without mercy” for his arrogance. “Who are you,” she thundered, “to refuse to accept the gift of these humble people? You have given insult by refusing to let them do what they can for you.” Dr. Gomes writes, “Jesus himself could not have put it better. Never again did I refuse to accept a love offering, because it was then that I first began to understand what money was all about” (Peter Gomes, The Good Life, pp. 310–311).

For yes, money is indeed just money. It is a tool. It is an instrument. But it is also so much more than just that. The way we use our money communicates whose we are, what we value, how we are or are not in relationship with other people. The way we use or don’t use our money declares our priorities. It is a way to show our gratitude. It can enable dignity. It can also help us love our neighbors. Or it can do none of that.

Again, Brueggeman: “Remembering God [worshiping God] is not an intellectual act: it is a practical act of managing money and possessions differently”(Walter Brueggemann, Money and Possessions, p. 6). And with that, we are back to our primary question: Do we let our money shape us, or do we use it to help shape our world to look, to feel, to be more like what God hopes—a world where all people can flourish; where all creation can find some rest; where how much or how little money one has is not the yardstick by which anyone measures and defines self-worth.

Money itself is not inherently evil. It is what we do with it that matters, that tells us to whom we belong—to God or to Mammon? Again, that letter to Timothy: “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich, some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains.”

Or to use something Jesus actually said: For where you treasure is—meaning, what you value and appreciate the most, what gives you life and a sense of well-being—there your heart is also. So what is it, exactly, that we treasure? To what or to whom do we give our hearts? What or whom do we most fully love? What or who has the power to shape us?

Is it what we have, what we think we’ve earned, our possessions, or the amount in the bank? Or is it the one who invites us to this table, who says, “Come, without money, without price. Eat and drink. Be nourished for faithful living. Learn to give yourselves away so you might find your life.” Is it the one who poured out everything he had, including his own life; the one who became weak in power in order to demonstrate the profound strength of God’s claim on us and God’s love for us?

“Money is the root of all evil.” Something Jesus never said. But if we primarily love our money; or if we use our money in a way to discount, demean, or harm others; or if we think that having a lot of money somehow means our opinions or our lives are more valuable or more important than those who have less; or if we forget the responsibilities of our faith and God’s call for generosity that come along with it? That’s a different story. Amen.

Sermon © Fourth Presbyterian Church