By Means of Unrighteous Wealth
November 7, 2023 | By Yoska Guta TD ‘25
image description: close-up of coins
“He made $8 billion, then gave nearly all of it away before he died” read the subject line of The New York Times article sitting in my inbox. Curiously, I opened the article to find it was an obituary for Charles Francis Feeney, an American businessman and philanthropist who passed away at 92 this October 9th. Although Feeney came from a humble working-class background, in 1960, he co-founded the successful luxury retail brand Duty-Free Shoppers. But, in the 1980s, having amassed a great deal of wealth, Feeney began reconsidering his extravagant lifestyle, before eventually changing course and establishing the Atlantic Philanthropies in 1982.
As I read deeper and deeper into Feeney’s story, I was challenged by his somewhat aggressive commitment to generosity. Looking at my own life, I’m inclined to shy away from the convictions his actions stir within me — to hide behind the excuse that I simply don’t have $8 billion to give away. But, when considering that such generosity, especially in light of Biblical principles, is not reserved for the wealthy and well-off, I wonder if there really is any excuse.
Feeny himself was described by many as a rarity in the philanthropic world, praised for giving away all but nearly $2 million of the approximately $8 billion he’d earned in his lifetime. He had made a pledge to give away virtually all of this wealth well before his death and to do so in secret. Through anonymous donations made via cashier’s checks and under the disguise of a “generous client,” Feeney supported numerous “universities, medical institutions, scientific endeavors, human rights groups, peace initiatives, and scores of causes intended to improve the lives in the United States, Vietnam, South Africa, Australia, Israel, Jordan and other lands” [1]. In 2020–remaining faithful to his initial pledge and having given away almost all of his wealth–Feeney closed Atlantic Philanthropies, saying “I cannot think of a more personally rewarding and appropriate use of wealth than to give while one is living, to personally devote oneself to meaningful efforts to improve the human condition” [2].
When addressing the issue of money in the Gospels, Jesus is quite direct in His instructions. In Matthew 6:19-21, He urges us, saying “ Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (ESV). In a very real sense, the monetary treasures we may attempt to collect here on earth will be destroyed. As Christians, we believe that the things of this world are temporary and fleeting–we don’t actually get to keep all that we physically work for. But in this passage, Jesus isn’t simply functioning as a financial advisor attempting to show us that we won’t get a good return on the time and effort we invest into acquiring earthly treasures.
The issue at hand is that the process of storing up treasures, whether on earth or in heaven, has the ability to mold and influence our hearts.
This truth is seen most clearly in Jesus’ conversation with the rich young ruler. In this interaction, Jesus is met by a man who asks Him what he must do to be saved, to which Jesus responds by listing a portion of the 10 commandments. The young man then claims “‘All these I have kept,’ and asks “‘What do I still lack?’” (Matt. 19:20). Jesus tells him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” But, upon hearing this, the young man sorrowfully departs “for he had great possessions” (Matt. 19:21-22). This young man, who previously appeared quite intent on understanding how he could be saved, chooses to walk away instead of being saved. The irony here is that even if the young man believed he’d done a good job of upholding the parts of the 10 commandments Jesus mentions, this final challenge reveals that he’d actually failed. He could not keep the very first commandment: “You shall have no other gods before me” (Exodus 20:2). Whether the young ruler realized it or not, his possessions and wealth had become his ‘god’ evidenced in his willingness to walk away from Jesus, the one who would have saved him, in order to hold onto these treasures. Just as Jesus said in Matthew 6, the true condition of his heart was revealed by where his treasures were stored — treasures that, to his misfortune, could not save him.
In the Gospel of Mark, we are told that Jesus loved the young ruler, and therefore chose to shine a light on the true condition of the man’s heart by calling him to sell his possessions and to give them all to the poor. If the man had already possessed the heart posture presented in Matthew 6 and saw value in the charge presented in Luke 16, then this calling would not have been a difficult one. Yet, it is because of the very way in which money can so easily entice and corrupt our hearts to selfishly desire to store it up on earth that Jesus provides such strong warnings and instructions regarding it.
The biblical call to store our treasures up in heaven is not a call to abandon all worldly ties, but rather a warning to not put one’s hope in worldly possessions. We are active participants in the world and so the manner in which we handle such responsibilities, specifically as ambassadors of Christ, matters greatly. Given this truth, Jesus urges us in Luke 16:9 to “make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings” (ESV). Although this statement seems like a direct contradiction to what Jesus had been saying all along, it is the complete opposite. Here, Jesus isn’t calling us to partake in dishonest means of gaining wealth or building friendships on the basis of corruption. What Jesus defines as unrighteous wealth in this passage is simply that which moths and vermin destroy, and thieves break in and steal—the temporary treasures of this earth. Jesus, therefore, is calling us, as His ambassadors, to love those around us with our temporary possessions and wealth so that “when [these temporary treasures] fail, they [the friends we make] may receive [us] into the eternal dwellings” (ESV). Though it may not be obvious, in other words, Jesus is literally calling us to use our resources and wealth to build up the kingdom of God by generously loving and giving to those around us.
If one is tempted, as I am at times, to avoid this calling by pointing out their lack of wealth, then I present to you James 1:27: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world” (ESV). In this passage, James does not identify money as the only means for serving orphans and widows. But, in considering this verse alongside those previously mentioned, I am inclined to suggest that money is still relevant here. It is not lost on us, especially as those living in the West, that our society operates on the notion that “time is money”. Success, self-advancement, wealth, and riches are all believed to be linked to how much time we put into our respective crafts. But, buying into this idea is problematic for Christians who are called to the kind of pure and undefiled religion that urges us to slow down enough to see, care, and sacrifice for orphans and widows. Seeking after wealth can easily cause us to selfishly forsake these important responsibilities, and therefore, requires that we vigilantly guard our hearts.
Remaining unstained from the enticing grasp of the worldly desire to pursue money is no easier than unlatching yourself from your attachment to your existing wealth. But, I think it is because of this very reason that Jesus so explicitly calls the young ruler to the challenging task of selling all his possessions and giving them to the poor. In other words, in each stage of our lives, whether we are wealthy, poor, or somewhere in the middle, we must actively check the condition of our hearts and ask whether we have made the possession or pursuit of money our god.
After realizing that he was no longer satisfied by his wealthy lifestyle and could not put such great value on the acquisition of wealth, Charles Feeney “reversed his extravagant lifestyle, quitting wealthy social groups, flying economy class, buying his clothing off the rack and giving up fancy restaurants…[taking] subways or cabs” [3]. In the last years of his life, he “did not own a home or a car, wore a $10 wristwatch, preferred buses to taxis and, until he was 75, flew coach… [and] lived in a two-bedroom rented apartment in San Francisco” [4]. Even if people do not hold to the biblical principles described above, they still commend Feeney’s remarkably unique and admirable approach to wealth. And, in doing so, they acknowledge the reality that money does, in fact, have a tremendous ability to shape, corrupt, and enslave one’s heart. To many of us, it is unimaginable to think that a person would willingly abandon $8 billion worth of wealth for $10 dollar watches and public transportation. But, Feeney’s intentional separation of his personal satisfaction and values from the money he possessed is what allowed him to spend nearly 50 years of his life “[making] friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth”. The difference for Christians is that we do this for the sake of ensuring that these friends will be there in eternity with us to enjoy the treasures we have stored up in heaven.
References
[1-4]: McFadden, Robert D. “Charles Feeney, Who Made a Fortune and Then Gave It Away, Dies at 92”. New York Times, 11 October 2023.