The Unjust Steward: Wealth, Poverty, and the Church Today

In Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years , Diarmaid McCullough describes monasticism’s development in Syria and Egypt as a “silent protest” and “implied criticism of Church’s decision to become a large-scale and inclusive organization.”[1] Monasticism was - and remains - a welcome alternative to and refuge from a monarchical and wealth-obsessed church, a way of life that resolves questions held in uneasy tension: namely, how does one remain faithful to Jesus’ imperative to dispossess one’s self of wealth, while also remaining within a church that had thrown open the doors to the wealthy and powerful?  In the third and fourth centuries, the first Christian ascetic hermits stepped out of society -- literally walking out into the desert in many cases -- and followed Jesus’ advice to abandon worldly wealth. They did so even as they and their emerging communities remained under authority of the bishop and therefore part of the orbit of the wider Church.[2] This meant monasticism was

A slightly revised version of a homily preached at Zion Episcopal Church in Douglaston, NY for the fourth Sunday in Lent 2021. We are rapidly moving toward the end of the season of Lent and I am here to talk about debt. And so, I want to begin by noting that Christianity frequently talks about debt as a metaphor for sin. In some translations of the Lord’s Prayer, we pray “Forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors,” (NIV of Matthew 6:12). The Apostle Paul writes of how the Good News of Christ has freed us from both the debt of sin and debts in righteousness owed through the law. Paul urges the Romans: “Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law,” (Romans 13:8). In addition, Christianity has long portrayed Christ’s resurrection as God’s cancelling of the debts that we carry for our sins. In all those instances, debt stands in for what we come to owe to one another and to God by committing sin. But in many other ins

“But, when suddenly I saw my garment reflected as in a mirror, I perceived in it my whole self as well, and through it I knew and saw myself” - Hymn of the Pearl I have now been on an eleven-month journey of writing about wealth and poverty during the first five hundred years of Christianity. Along the way, I’ve learned many interesting things, but one favorite insight is among the simplest: namely, that during the second and third centuries, two Gospel stories were frequently told together, paired like peanut butter and jelly.   The first of these stories is Jesus’ encounter with the rich man, an exchange recorded in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. In the Lucan version (18.18-25), a rich man approaches Jesus and asks what he must do to inherit eternal life. When Jesus replies that he must adhere to the commandments, the rich man proudly tells him ‘I have kept all these since my youth’ (18.20-21). Then Jesus famously adds that there is still one thing lacking: “Sell all that you own and distr