Chapter 16
Chapter 16 The pursuit of riches unfavorable to a Christian’s happiness
Why is it that some Christians are found in such constant contact with the world? Why are closet duties abridged or neglected, while time is freely, and even lavishly, given to business and to pleasure? Ah! the question has been sadly answered, in the almost unbounded thirst for gain, which, like a sweeping epidemic, has found its way into the habitations and the hearts of professors of piety, as well as of others. There is nothing in modern times which has so fearfully threatened the cause of vital piety; and if a kind Providence had not met the evil by overwhelming rebukes, it is impossible to calculate how deep and wide-spread it might have become. The astonishing anomaly has been witnessed, of men professing to live above the world—yet wholly bent on acquiring its possessions. Many who profess to renounce the world’s pomps and its vanities, have been seen foremost in plans to secure these distinctions, and even ostentatious in the exhibition of them! Now, we would know if the self-denying piety of Jesus authorizes this course; or if piety is to be held responsible for conduct, by which her principles are outraged and set at defiance? Alas! her bosom has bled under this wound, until her very existence has been seriously threatened.
It will not be denied, I presume, that we are under obligations to imitate our Savior, as well as to believe in him. Indeed, we cannot truly believe, without imitating him. But must we imitate him in his poverty? Must we cast away our pillows of down, and vacate our comfortable mansions, that, like Jesus, we may "have nowhere to lay our heads?" Or must we neglect to provide for our own—to place our families in independent circumstances? "Surely," says the thrifty and money-making Christian, "piety does not require this of us." Well, admit that it does not; admit that it allows us to sleep on our soft pillows—to live in fine houses—to ride in splendid vehicles—and to feast on rich dainties, while He whom we serve, possessed none of these things; or admit, if your taste be such, that it allows you to prefer plainer accommodations with the sweet consciousness of possessing more hoarded treasure—(and the conduct of many, professedly pious, would seem to claim that piety does allow all this)—admit it, and we have still to ask what it disallows? Is there any abridgment of our earthly desires which she demands? If there is none; if we may embark in the pursuit of riches with as unbridled an appetite as the professed votaries of the world, and vie with them in the manifestation of external grandeur; it must follow that Jesus did not mean what he said, or that he was mistaken, when he declared, "You cannot serve God and mammon." Luke 16:13. There is some difference between literally impoverishing ourselves, for the sake of being like Christ; and manifesting a totally opposite character, in a greedy and all-absorbing pursuit of the world. There is not quite so much danger in the former case, of serving God too much, as there is in the latter, of not serving him at all. It has not been the fault of Christians, that they have been over-righteous in this matter.
It is a subject for serious inquiry, how far the pursuit of riches is consistent with true and genuine piety; and whether the changes, political and social, which have taken place since Christ laid down his self-denying rules, do really permit us to overlook their obligation, and make common cause with other men in all their prospects and their plans of gain? In order to settle this point, we seem to need a second advent; that, with his fan in his hand, Jesus should come to sift out the mingled opinions and practices which have taken place, and, separating the precious from the vile, to show who are, and who are not, his genuine disciples. But is there no criterion by which we can understand the mind of Christ on this subject? Is there no voice within that utters its verdict, and assents or dissents to the position which is sometimes taken on the question? Don’t you hear something in the secret soul, that speaks of departed joys, and a backslidden state and overclouded hopes? Is there not, in the Christian’s experience, a response to what Jesus has said—"You cannot serve God and mammon?" How many are there who ran well the first part of their race; who seemed to have their eye on the heavenly prize, with a fair prospect of obtaining it; but who caught, as by a side-glance, a view of the tempting bait of riches; and all at once their feet loitered in the course, their eye was averted from the goal; and, before long, they were found running with equal, if not greater zeal, after the rewards of mammon! But how has this diversion of their interest and zeal operated upon their spirits? Has it had the effect to augment or to diminish their joy? Are they as happy in serving mammon, as they were formerly in serving God? But it is replied, "We have not given up our piety; although it has not, we admit, the same influence upon our happiness as it once had. We have not actually lost sight of its obligations; nor intermitted entirely its duties. We worship God in the family, if we do not in the closet; and we are found in our seats in the sanctuary, even if we have lost our interest in the social meeting for prayer. Besides, by gaining more of the world, we are enabled to give more for the spread of the gospel; so that we cannot be charged with an actual defection from the ranks of the pious." Sad confession this, of pious joy sacrificed on the altar of mammon! Poor apology for relinquishing the crown of glory; and turning aside after "the lust of the eye, and the pride of life!" And what, after all, is the gain? Will it compensate for the loss of the soul’s true felicity? Will it make up for the consciousness of the disapprobation of Heaven, which, even in moments of earthly prosperity, must be a heavy drawback on our joy? Shall we run more fleetly on our race, after loading our pockets with golden weights; or wrestle with more success against "principalities and powers," when we have relaxed our moral energies by earthly indulgences? How easy is it to find excuses for our sins! What specious but sophistical arguments will Satan urge, to set us upon a pursuit of the world, and thus rob us of our peace and joy? "All these will I give you, if you will unchain your affections from the gospel chariot, and link them to mammon’s chariot. And why should not you have the means of enjoyment, and your children the means of support, as well as others? Then, too, see how much good you can do with riches! what a field of benevolence they will open to you! Why need you hesitate? There is no church censure that can be passed upon you for this pursuit." The reasoning seems good, says "the old man which is corrupt," and I will act upon it. So farewell the peace of God, until I have gained the peace which the world gives!
