TheologySense

Chrysostom, John.  On Wealth and Poverty.  Trans. Catharine P. Roth.  Crestwood, NY:  St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1984.  140 p.

Summary

The text, On Wealth and Poverty, consists of a series of six sermons delivered by St. John Chrysostom while he was priest of the Antiochian church (Syria).  The addresses were made around 388 or 389, by best estimate (10).  Fourth century Antioch was much like our American society.  The people were primarily considered middle class, with few considered part of the upper and lower classes.  St. John estimated the population to be one tenth rich and one tenth poor (7).  Antioch’s population was approximately 300,000, consisting mainly of Greeks (7).  The Christian church had to compete with other religions, the race track, and the theater (each of which is reflected in Chrysostom’s preaching).  Earthquakes and Persian invasions were common threats to the people of  Antioch at the time of Chrysostom’s priesthood.

Chrysostom’s first sermon is based on Jesus’ parable of the rich man and Lazarus, focusing on their earthly lives (Luke 16:19-21).  He approaches the parable on a spiritual, not material, level.  The rich man was condemned, not simply because he was rich, but because he neglected to care for his neighbor.  His over-indulgent lifestyle led to his spiritual ill-health.  Chrysostom says, “For it is not the same thing for one who lives in poverty not to help those in need, as for one who enjoys such luxury to neglect others who are wasting away with hunger” (22).  Lazarus, on the other hand, patiently endured his sufferings without any complaint.  Lazarus’ attitude built up his spiritual well-being.  Chrysostom inclines toward favoring poverty over wealth.  His message commends his listeners to love their neighbors while practicing asceticism for spiritual benefit.  He says,

You must not smell of perfumes but of virtue.  Nothing is more unclean for the soul than when the body has such a fragrance . . . Luxury often leads to forgetfulness.  As for you, my beloved, if you sit at the table, remember that from the table you must go to prayer.  Fill your belly so moderately that you may not become too heavy to bend your knees and call upon your God (26,27).

Chrysostom’s second sermon concentrates on the deaths of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:22-24).  True richness and true poverty were determined at death.  He says, “Let us learn from this man not to call the rich lucky nor the poor unfortunate.  Rather, if we are to tell the truth, the rich man is not the one who has collected many possessions but the one who needs few possessions; and the poor man is not the one who has no possessions but the one who has many desires” (40).  Lazarus, lonely during his life on earth, is accompanied by angels; the rich man is left alone, tortured in isolation.  To the rich, Chrysostom advocates sharing wealth without regard to the moral qualities of the needy.  Spending more than what is necessary on the self constitutes theft.  He even goes as far as discouraging the idea of private property.  Chrysostom does not advocate the monastic idea of selling everything and giving to the poor; he is addressing those who must live as Christians in the world.

Chrysostom’s third sermon considers the rich man’s petition, that Lazarus bring him a drop of water, and Abraham’s response (Luke 16:24-26).  The discussion centers on the relationship between our condition on earth and that which will be in the life to come:  “if anyone wishes to earn a crown, let him choose the hard and laborious life, in order that after he has striven a short time here he may enjoy lasting honor hereafter” (68).  Chrysostom appears to condone moralism; we earn our way to heaven through sufferings in our earthly life.  However, he does not go that far.  His stance is that sufferings, if endured with patience, can lessen or annul the punishment we would have received in the life to come.  Those who patiently suffer in this life acquire sufficient asceticism.  Those who are wealthy should practice voluntary asceticism.  Chrysostom, however he appears in his sermons, affirms in his closing prayers that works do not save; only the grace of God saves.  Apparently the Greek  Fathers had no problem with their dualistic message (not any more than James did!).

Chrysostom’s fourth sermon deals with the rich man’s second request, that Lazarus should return to earth and inform his brothers.  The central question he addresses is “Why should we believe in a judgment after death?”  Chrysostom answers with three reasons.  First, Moses and the prophets tell us that judgment awaits those who deserve it.  Chrysostom says, “what the Scriptures utter, the Master has uttered.  So even if a dead person rises, even if an angel descends from heaven, the Scriptures are more worthy of belief than any of them . . . Therefore let us not seek to hear from dead people what the Scriptures teach us much more clearly every day (85).  Secondly, since God is just, reason would mandate that He arrange a time of recompense after death for sins committed in this life.  Thirdly, God has given us consciences for a purpose.  Chrysostom says about the conscience, “For there is no judge, no judge at all among men as sleepless as our conscience” (88).  Our conscience should cause us to confess sins, repent, and receive forgiveness.

The fifth sermon, which deviated from the theme of wealth and poverty, was omitted from On Wealth and Poverty.  Chrysostom’s sixth sermon was presented later in the year, separating it from the other four.  It appears to have been given extemporaneously; it is less well organized than the other four.  Apparently, just before the sixth sermon was prepared, a deadly earthquake struck Antioch.  Chrysostom says that the church had spent the three previous days in prayer.  The anxiety of the hour leads Chrysostom to expound on God’s judgment; they had been spared for the time being, but for how long?  His attitude is that “Sin is the same as disease or injury; retribution is the same as surgery or medicine . . . What the medicines, surgery, and cautery are for the physician, chastisement is for God” (101, 103).  The poor must practice patience; the rich must give of their possessions.  Virtue must be the aim of everyone, whether rich or poor, free or slave.  In the midst of the wealth and poverty theme, Chrysostom digresses at this point into a discussion of the origin of slavery.  He picks up the theme of wealth and poverty again in terms of remuneration for deeds done on earth.  Lazarus’ sins were compensated for in his life of suffering, thus his blessings would not be reduced in the life to come.  The rich man, however, was given his rewards in this life, thus his punishment would not be reduced in the life to come.  Chrysostom suggests that someone might, in this life, suffer more than his sins deserve; this man would arrive in heaven with a “surplus” of righteousness.

Chrysostom’s seventh sermon starts off with a polemic against those who frequent the race course.  He uses Matthew 7:13-14 for his text.  The race-goers, he says, compromise their Christian walks by setting bad examples for non-Christians and new believers.  They also waste their time, traveling on the “easy road.”  The easy, wide road and the difficult, narrow road remind Chrysostom of the rich man and Lazarus.  He then leads into a discussion of the relative nature of this life; is wealth really a good thing, and poverty bad?  The rich man thought he had it good, but did not understand that much better things existed.  Lazarus, receiving what was considered evil, contended for what was truly good; virtue and heaven.

Response

On Wealth and Poverty provides an interesting fourth century look at an age-old question:  How should Christians perceive wealth and poverty?  Chrysostom has some sobering things to say to today’s wealth-driven church.  He takes seriously Jesus’ command that we love one another as we love ourselves.  If we have wealth, it should be used to help out the less fortunate.  Wealth is not to be hoarded, but it is to be used for righteous giving.  Chrysostom’s stance is, like many of the early Church Fathers, communistic as far as goods and wealth are concerned.  He advocates returning to the early church practice of holding property in common; private property, therefore, is not a Christian idea in Chrysostom’s mind (13).

I wonder what Chrysostom would say about savings accounts, 401K plans, and IRA’s?  How about BMW’s or new Honda Accords?  What about those new $500,000 homes Christians live in?  He would probably denounce every one of them!  In many ways, I like Chrysostom’s attitude.  I question just how far we can reasonably take it though.  We really can’t return to the practice of sharing common goods and finances, because of the capitalistic societies in which we live.  Too many Christians are entrenched in a syncretistic blend of Christianity and worldliness; in fact, we all are, to some extent.  We can, however, receive and apply his preaching on sharing and giving when appropriate needs are manifest.  I don’t believe any Christian should be without daily provisions, especially when other Christians in the same body are driving brand new cars or living in large homes.  This should not be.  Unfortunately, greed is an all-too-common phenomenon in the modern body of Christ.

Chrysostom advocates voluntary asceticism for the wealthy.  His presupposition here is that moderate living leaves no place for pride or self-indulgence.  It is interesting that Chrysostom does not rail against wealth per se; his concern is always spiritual.  He sees wealth as God-given for a purpose; it does not belong to the individual.  He sees a connection between how we use what has been entrusted to us in this life with what kind of “reward” we will receive in the next life.  Those who hoard in this life, not practicing the second greatest commandment, pay for it in the next life.

We may need to define what is meant by the term “wealthy,” but I see it as having enough to meet our basic needs and then some.  By this definition, many people in our churches would be considered wealthy.  Chrysostom would encourage them to give to others in need, because that is the reason God has entrusted wealth to them in the first place.  Giving, or doing what ought to be done anyway, assures blessings in the life to come.  Jesus himself said something to this effect, as recorded in Luke 16:9:  “Use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”

Chrysostom contrasts the draw of wealth with what he sees as the virtues of poverty.  The poor have, by nature, what the wealthy do not; they have the opportunity to practice patience and virtue.  The poor do not have the ability to obtain their heart’s selfish desires at the snap of their fingers.  They must wait for the next life to receive their reward.  Chrysostom puts much emphasis on viewing the next life from the perspective of this one.  He often uses the metaphor of the theater.  This life is but a stage, and we are all actors, as in the Greek tragedies.  We all wear different masks and play different parts.  Just as in the Greek plays, it could happen that a barber might wear a king’s mask, and a mayor wear the mask of a commoner, but when the sun sets and the play is over, each removes his mask, and is seen for his true self.  What we truly are is underneath that which is visible to the eye.  At death, the masks come off and we are judged for what we truly are.  Some may say that Chrysostom’s thinking leads to a fatalistic way of living, especially for the poor; we are stuck with the mask we have been given, so why change, why better ourselves?  But Chrysostom could care less about the material.  He is saying that it does not really matter what kind of mask we wear, or whether or not we change the mask from poverty to wealth or vice versa; our ultimate destiny depends on who we are underneath — the true self — not the outward adornment, however grand or pitiable.  Chrysostom is dealing with the heart of the matter of wealth and poverty.

Chrysostom takes his theology of retribution a long way.  He says that all men are treated unequally by God at the judgment, as if God has a great “balance sheet” in heaven; those who had not made up for their sins on earth are doomed to suffer in Hades, while those who suffered and lived ascetic lives on earth are destined for glory.  I’m not so sure that this theology can be reasonably supported, scripturally (It may work well for a motivational speech to the sloth, however!).  Given the historical stance of the Church on the sinfulness of man, we would all tip the scale toward Hades, I’m afraid.  That type of thinking leads, in the extreme, to the heresy of moralism.  If I have to make up for my sinfulness by good deeds and ascetic living, I might as well give up now, because I will never balance out my human depravity with goodness.  I can accept Chrysostom’s thinking in terms of righteous, holy living.  We need to live consciously with the balance between sin and grace in mind, but behind it all is the cross of Jesus, where forgiveness is ultimately attained for salvation and restoration unto the Father.

One final item I would like to discuss:  Chrysostom brings up an important point in his discussion of the rich man’s second request, that Lazarus should return to earth and inform his brothers of the realities of sin’s penalties.  We should not, in this life, look for the miraculous in order to have faith in God.  Scripture is all we need for faith.  Signs may follow our faith, but they should only confirm what we already hold as the truth.  Sign-searching can bring about great error, especially in subjective encounters with the supernatural.  We do not need angels or people raised from the dead to tell us about God or what or how to believe.  I agree with Chrysostom when he said, “let us not seek to hear from dead people what the Scriptures teach us much more clearly every day” (85).  I am in complete agreement with the reformers at this point:  Sola Scriptura!

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