Author: Paul Louis Metzger

In a recent article on Dave Ramsey on the subject of poverty, Rachel Held Evans quotes Ramsey as saying, “There is a direct correlation…between your habits, choices and character in Christ and your propensity to build wealth.” She then goes on to claim that this teaching flirts with the prosperity gospel, which can be construed as God blesses those with wealth who bless God. Among other things, Evans also writes of how Ramsey’s view does not account for the structures that make and keep people poor in America.

Here’s what Pastor Kenneth Edward Copeland had to say about Evans’ article:

In my opinion, Rachel Held Evans rightly points to, but does not explicitly call out, an insidious and debilitating flaw in American evangelicalism: an overemphasis on individual salvation to the neglect of how the Gospel impacts systematic, structural, and corporate evil/injustice. The so-called prosperity gospel and its evangelical cousin (the trickle-down social ethic that says society’s ills would be solved if everyone were “saved”) share the fallacy that personal responsibility and wise choices alone are what separate the rich from the poor. In other words, the poor are poor because they don’t have enough faith (standard prosperity gospel) or they aren’t employing biblical principles/making wise choices (evangelical prosperity gospel).

The Bible paints a more complex and realistic picture about the causes of poverty…My real problem is that my middle/upper class brothers and sisters (especially those who are more “reformed” than “Christian”) are always using the term “sovereign grace” but never seem to apply it when discussing poverty. Bottom line: You did not choose the country, century, parents, or zip code you were born to. God did. In doing so He granted you privileges, opportunities, and choices that others did not receive. Consequently, you are not where you are solely because you made all the right choices, had enough faith, and/or bought Dave Ramsey’s book. You are where you are because God gave you favor. To suggest otherwise denigrates the very grace we all claim to hold so dearly.

Evans’ and Copeland’s discussions of Ramsey as well as Evangelicalism led me to reflect back on something I said in my Advocacy and Justice class earlier this semester. I sometimes find in Evangelical circles two competing convictions: first, none of us deserve the economy of God’s grace, yet we should accept God’s grace; second, the poor are poor because of laziness, and don’t deserve for us to help them advance economically. I agree with the first claim. I disagree with the second claim on three counts: not all poor people are poor because of laziness (in fact, some rich people are rich in spite of their laziness); there are poor people who are poor in spite of their hard work, as the film The Line makes clear; and we are called to extend grace to undeserving people (laziness is not the unforgiveable sin), just like God did to us.

Certainly, Scripture has much to say against the sluggard and how the sluggard’s ways will lead to ruin whereas the diligent person’s hard work will lead to success (See for example Proverbs 13:4: “The soul of the sluggard craves and gets nothing, while the soul of the diligent is richly supplied;” ESV). However, such statements as those found in Proverbs are general principles of wisdom that merit careful consideration, not universally binding principles that apply to each and every situation where one comes across poverty or riches. There are other reasons why people become poor or rich, including systemic structures that make and keep people rich and others poor, as I have noted in various writings over the years, including Consuming Jesus: Beyond Race and Class Divisions in a Consumer Church.

I don’t know any Evangelical who doesn’t like Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol, although Dickens didn’t like Evangelicals all that much. We all take to heart the change of heart in Ebenezer Scrooge, who had been such a scrooge concerning the poor and his own employee who worked so hard for so little. Only as Scrooge, who looked a lot like the rich fool of Luke 12, comes to terms with his future destiny in view of his miserly ways does he give charitably to all. God’s severe mercy brings an end to his bad karma ways. Scrooge ends up being like God: he pours out good gifts on all lavishly regardless of their merit. Hard work has its place, just not the place that determines who becomes a benefactor of God’s grace.

This piece is cross-posted at Patheos and at The Christian Post. Comments made here are not monitored. To join the conversation, please comment on this post at Patheos.

What is the standard of value in this or that ethical system? Is it some transcendent immaterial ideal? A personal God? The community at large? One’s self? According to Ayn Rand, “The objectivist ethics” which she promotes “holds man’s life as the standard of value—and his own life as the ethical purpose of every individual man” (The Virtue of Selfishness, Signet, 1964, p. 27).  Rand goes on to unpack what she means by standard and purpose and value. For our purposes, it is sufficient to focus consideration simply on her human individual-centered ethical system. Later, Rand goes on to write:

The basic social principle of the Objectivist ethics is that just as life is an end in itself, so every human living being is an end in himself, not the means to the ends or the welfare of others—and, therefore, that man must live for his own sake, neither sacrificing himself to others nor sacrificing others to himself. To live for his own sake means that the achievement of his own happiness is man’s highest moral purpose (The Virtue of Selfishness, p. 30).

Lastly, for our purposes, she writes,

The Objectivist ethics holds that human good does not require human sacrifices and cannot be achieved by the sacrifice of anyone to anyone. It holds that the rational interests of men do not clash—that there is no conflict of interests among men who do not desire the unearned, who do not make sacrifices nor accept them, who deal with one another as traders, giving value for value.

The principle of trade is the only rational ethical principles for all human relationships, personal and social, private and public, spiritual and material. It is the principle of justice (The Virtue of Selfishness, p. 34).

I don’t believe Ayn Rand had any reservations in thinking that she was seeking to dismantle any and every form of altruistic ethical system, including the Judeo-Christian faith. Whether she is right or wrong about what she claims, why do so many Christians seem to think they can make use of her system of thought for how they engage in life? For some of them, do they find her a modern day Nostradamus, who in their minds rightly predicted America’s current economic situation? Even if that were so, would it suffice for discarding altruism? I believe Christian Scripture has a lot to say about the future of those who discard altruism.

The connection to Rand may be more indirect—a lack of concern and even disdain for altruism in the market more than a devotion to Rand. Yet as has been shown elsewhere, key conservative leaders with whom many Evangelicals align politically have looked to Rand in the development of their policies and views, including Paul Ryan and Glenn Beck.

Is it simply Rand’s atheism that is the problem? Not all atheists reject altruism, but rather embrace it. Perhaps many of these Christians think that one can practice altruism in their personal lives with family members and in church, though not in the sphere of the market. For what it’s worth, Rand would reject such compartmentalization. Her system applies to all spheres, just as altruism applies to all spheres in the Christian faith in my estimation. With this in mind, can Christians approach trade in the market void of any altruistic concern? Can we ever reduce or limit consideration of our fellows to the label of “trader”? If so, how? From a biblical Christian standpoint, how just would that really be?

This piece is cross-posted at Patheos and at The Christian Post. Comments made here are not monitored. To join the conversation, please comment on this post at Patheos.

Thanksgiving is upon us. This year, I find myself reflecting upon God’s generosity in Christ for which I am most thankful. I wish to take this opportunity to reflect upon how God’s generosity in Christ shapes the Christian life.

A theology of God’s gracious love fosters an ethic of gratitude. I preached on Philemon this past Sunday and believe this passage in Scripture reveals this orientation. Now some may see in Paul’s letter to Philemon a subtle form of manipulation whereby Philemon is forced to free his slave Onesimus. I beg to differ. I believe Paul truly appeals to him in love as a result of God’s grace at work in Paul’s, Philemon’s and Onesimus’s lives in relation to one another and the whole church (koinonia).

Ever the master of rhetoric, Paul appeals to Philemon: he is thankful for Philemon refreshing the hearts of the saints (vs. 7) and is expectant that Philemon will refresh Paul’s heart by freeing his runaway slave Onesimus (vs. 20), who has not only become Paul’s son by saving faith while in prison in Rome (vs. 10) but has also become Paul’s heart (vs. 12; the same root word for “heart” is used in each instance: splachna—vss. 7, 12, 20). As Robert Jewitt has written, “Philemon…has Paul’s heart in his hands.” (Paul the Apostle to America: Cultural Trends and Pauline Scholarship {Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994}, p. 66).

Having “derived much joy and comfort” from how Philemon has refreshed the hearts of the saints, Paul could demand that Philemon provide more of the same. However, Paul resists this urge. Paul writes in Philemon 8-10: “Accordingly, though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do what is required, ⁹ yet for love’s sake I prefer to appeal to you—I, Paul, an old man and now a prisoner also for Christ Jesus— ¹⁰ I appeal to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I became in my imprisonment.” Here we see that Paul does not compel Philemon, but rather appeals to him in the Lord.

Given Paul’s and Philemon’s partnership, Paul requests that Philemon receive Onesimus as he would receive Paul (vs. 17). To receive him as an equal would entail receiving him as a free man. The idea that tends to float about in Evangelical circles that internal transformation does not involve a transformation of social status is seriously mistaken (it is as mistaken as the idea that the transformation in our spirits that leads to a transformation of social status arises from our own capacities and proclivities*). Paul appeals to Philemon to welcome Onesimus back on equal terms in the Lord and in the flesh. Onesimus is to be welcomed back like he would Paul, his partner in the faith (vs. 17). This follows from what Paul wrote one verse earlier: “no longer as a bondservantbut more than a bondservant, as a beloved brother—especially to me, but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord” (vs. 16).

No doubt, it will cost Philemon something to free his slave. He is not alone. Paul is willing to bear with him the debt incurred by Onesimus’s situation (vss. 17-19a). Paul offers to pay because he has derived great benefit from Onesimus’s presence, since he has freely cared for Paul while he is in prison (vss. 11-16), even as Paul has cared for Onesimus (vs. 10) and Philemon (vs. 19b). In this relational context, Paul is confident that Philemon will obey from the heart and will do even more than Paul requests (vs. 21). They are all in one another’s debt in the Lord who is at work in and through them.

This reminds of a statement Dr. John M. Perkins once made. He said, “I have a debt of gratitude to pay to the Lord” based on God’s loving grace at work in his life. I, too, have a debt of gratitude to pay in view of God’s loving grace at work in my own life, just as Paul and Philemon and Onesimus did. This same Onesimus who had been useless, once saved, becomes useful; no doubt, like Paul the “Apostle of the heart set free,”** he too is freed from the heart and now serves willingly, freely out of a spirit of gratitude. Just as Onesimus serves Paul freely, Paul asks Philemon to give Onesimus his freedom. The give and take of mutual benefit that is communion (koinonia) stems from gratitude which flows from God’s loving grace at work in their lives in relation to one another.

When God’s gracious love takes over, gratitude kicks in and gets one going. An ethics of gratitude that flows from God’s gracious love is not cheap, but very costly. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes, “Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession…. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Cost of Discipleship, {Touchstone, 1995}, p. 44).

Cheap grace is also grace without one another. Such isolated grace fails to account for koinonia, which was mentioned at the outset of this post. Koinonia is present in Philemon. In verses 6 and 17, we find references to this theme of koinonia. Koinonia entails communion, sharing, partnership, and partner. Koinonia flies in the face of cheap grace, which does not involve others. It is all about “God and me” in isolation, which does not even include God, but simply isolated individuals who project God’s grace—which “we bestow on ourselves” (Cost of Discipleship, p. 44). Costly grace, on the other hand, involves us caring for one another from the heart and in the flesh. Manumission (liberation from slavery) flows from our Christ-centered mission to bring forth equality: spiritual transformation involves social transformation, which requires and leads to greater forms of solidarity of mutual benefit and sharing, that is, costly communion (koinonia).

How can it be otherwise since such koinonia—such costly communion—flows from God’s communal life of Father, Son and Spirit in eternal fellowship? God’s costly grace flows forth from the throne of holy love as the Father sends his Son into the world through the Spirit to bring freedom through his embrace of the world on the cross. This gracious triune love alone fosters an ethic of gratitude.

This piece is cross-posted at Patheos and at The Christian Post. Comments made here are not monitored. To join the conversation, please comment on this post at Patheos.

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*Here I wish to affirm and embrace Donald Bloesch’s depiction of what is referred to as “Evangelical Contextualism”: “Evangelicals in this tradition speak more of graces than of virtues. Virtues indicate the unfolding of human potentialities, whereas graces are manifestations of the work of the Holy Spirit within us. It is not the fulfillment of human powers but the transformation of the human heart that is the emphasis in an authentically evangelical ethics.” Donald G. Bloesch, Freedom for Obedience: Evangelical Ethics in Contemporary Times (San Francisco: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1987), p. 191.

**F. F. Bruce refers to Paul as such in the title of his book on Paul’s life (Paul: Apostle of the Heart Set Free (Eerdmans, 2000).

In a recent blog post discussion, I spoke of the need to humanize religion.  On Facebook on 11/20, I wrote: “If we don’t humanize religion, we may very well end up demonizing adherents of other paths. We need to put faces to the various faith traditions.”

My particular emphasis on humanization does not discount orthodox Christian faith with its claim that Christ is fully God as well as fully human. To the contrary, it is because God is personal and has three “faces” as the persons of the Father, Son and Spirit that I can speak of the need to put faces to various faith traditions through engagement of human persons with faces. According to historic Christian faith, humans are created in the image of God who is triune. If the Trinity were only a metaphor or social construct, or if the “faces” as persons were only modes or masks that deity wears at various times, I could not take seriously my own claim that we need to put faces to the various faith traditions.

The people I engage from diverse religious traditions are not metaphors or social constructs or masks that generic humanity wears. Rather, the individuals I engage are indelibly who they are as the persons with names and faces and personalities that make them universally unique. Of course, they and I may at times wear masks to cover what we really think and feel and cloak who we really are. But such masks do not exhaust us, while our personal identities go to the core of what makes us who and what we are as human.

My friends from other religious traditions have their own reasons for why they can affirm the need to put human faces to various faith traditions; what I wrote above is truly and accurately mine. To return to the point at the beginning of this piece, emphasis on humanity does not discount consideration of divinity since Christ is fully God and fully human. Moreover, to commandeer a statement from Karl Barth, God’s deity rightly understood includes his humanity.[1] To put a Barthian face to the discussion, to think apart from Christ is to think “demonically.”

This piece is cross-posted at Patheos and at The Christian Post. Comments made here are not monitored. To join the conversation, please comment on this post at Patheos.