To Have or Not to Have?
ECONOMICALLY JUST LIFESTYLES

Reference: Grigg, V. (2004). Companion to the Poor. GA, USA: Authentic Media in partnership with World Vision.

Disciple making is a commitment of one life to another through thick and thin. But since I was not called to these professionals, I could not give my heart to them. I could not be a true pastor, and true disciple making could not really occur. All I could do was to set a framework, a structure, and handle the problems as they occurred.

The office Bible studies continued to multiply; the university groups began to come together; a graduate group began at the University of the Philippines; several pastors were asking for help. The ministry grew from seventy to a hundred professionals and college students. And God was giving freedom in my preaching after five years of hard discipline developing story-telling skills and crafting sermons.

But the call of the poor still beat relentlessly in my mind. I was compelled by an inner drive. I must take the gospel to the poor. All my creative energy must be directed towards the poor, the needy, and the broken.
 

But there would be a cost. What would happen to the relationships with my middle-class co-laborers as I sought to involve them among the poor? How could I involve the middle-class and rich in the needs of the poor? What lifestyle is appropriate for them to live? What models could I use from the past?

Substance and simplicity
 

Job and Abraham are interesting examples of rich men with a deep commitment to the poor. Both were patriarchs, men of great social standing and influence, living at a time when society was built around a clan structure. Abraham was a man committed to simplicity of lifestyle. Though he had great wealth, he employed it wisely to support his hundreds of dependents (a model for factory owners!). Though he knew how to build cities, having grown up in Ur of the Chaldees, he chose to live simply in a tent. Hebrews tells us: “By faith, he sojourned in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he looked forward to the city which has foundations whose builder and maker is God” (Hebrews 11:9–10).
 

Such men can be used to minister to the poor. Abraham established a pattern that is consistent throughout the scriptures: “The blessing of the Lord makes rich and he adds no sorrow with it” (Proverbs 10:22). Yet those who have wealth are not to live luxuriously but simply—"to be rich in good deeds, liberal and generous . . . for the love of money is the root of all evil" (1 Timothy 6:6–8,10,18).
 

In the scriptures, greed (or covetousness) and excessive luxury are sins as bad as immorality or adultery (Ephesians 5:3–5). Indeed we are not even to have lunch with a brother who is greedy (1 Corinthians 5:11).
 

If we want to live out a gospel of justice and grace, we must see that living a life of luxury is collaborating with injustice. Piety and luxury cannot co-exist. Living luxuriously in the midst of poverty is a denial of justice: “If anyone has this world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?” (1 John 3:17).

To be obedient to this command surely means that nobody should have excessively more than others. The poor should be uplifted, the rich brought low, and equality should result. (Though clearly we don’t keep giving till we too become destitute, for then we only add ourselves to the problem).
 

And clearly, there is a need for some men to have capital, as Abraham had capital. But we must use it to benefit the workers, as Abraham used it to benefit his people.
 

Job, the greatest of all patriarchs of the East, also had great capital. He too used it to benefit his people. In his justifications, Job describes how to be a godly rich man:

I delivered the poor (ani) who cried,
and the fatherless who had none to help him.
I caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy,
I put on righteousness, and it clothed me;
my justice was like a robe and turban.
I was eyes to the blind and feet to the lame;
I was a father to the poor (ebyon),
and I searched out the cause of him
whom I did not know.
I broke the fangs of the unrighteous,
and made him drop his prey from his teeth.
(Job 29:12–17)

Rich people are to live simply and use their capital to benefit the poor. This is justice. For a Western missionary or a Christian businessman to live otherwise is a great evil.
 

The poor have an intuitive knowledge about such issues. They know it is unjust that I am a rich man and they are poor. Of course, everyone, rich and poor, knows that riches are a gift from God and that sin is a cause of poverty. But the poor man of understanding knows more than a rich man who is wise in his own eyes. He knows it is often the sins of oppression, exploitation, and injustice committed in the name of “fair profit” that have made him poor.

But justice is not to live in equal destitution with the destitute. Justice for Jesus was to live humbly, simply, without excess, and share whatever he had with those around—to share with the destitute. Justice was not to have more than that required by our daily needs—”Give us this day our daily bread”—and yet, at the same time, it was to enjoy all the good things God has made.

In seeking a just society, to live as poor among the poor, we cannot live a life of destitution—the destitute poor have no respect for this themselves. They are trying to move upwards, at least to a level of sufficiency for their own needs.
 

Paul describes a balanced personal justice: "There is great gain in godliness with contentment; for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world; but if we have food and clothing, with these we shall be content" (1 Timothy 6:6–8).

Other rich men like St Francis of Assisi, for the salvation of their own souls, have decided to follow another command—one Jesus gives to the rich young ruler: "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" (Matthew 19:21).

My observation is that most converted rich are encouraged to do as Abraham and Job—to remain rich, but use their wealth wisely; to turn their income into capital, which can create work for the poor; to live simply yet not be destitute. Unfortunately, despite the number of testimonies we hear from the wealthy and the popularity of “prosperity theology,” it is extremely difficult to hang on to our wealth and on to Jesus at the same time. In the house church movement among the rich of Djakarta, Indonesia, believers sagely use the phrase “Repent of your sins, then repent of your wealth!”

Prosperity theology teaches a “be saved and get rich” Christianity, using the teaching of the Pentateuch, Job and Proverbs about the righteous rich, but ignoring the Psalms, prophets, and teaching of Jesus about the godly poor. Prosperity theology works against genuine spirituality.

Commitment without identification
 

People often ask, “Were you called to minister to the poor?” We are all called to minister to the poor. Such a ministry is the logical obedience of any disciple imitating the attitudes, character and teaching of Jesus. He commands everyone to renounce all (Luke 14:33), to give to the poor and live simply. But we would need a special call to minister primarily to the rich or middle-class, for the focus of Christian ministry is “good news to the poor.”

Not all, however, are called to a life of identification with the poor by living among them!

Is there a reasonable lifestyle for middle-class Filipinos who desire to minister to the poor?

Lazarus, Mary, and Martha are examples of the middle-class of Israel. They had a large home, kept it, and used it for the Lord and his disciples as a retreat center.
 

I have not discerned God calling many of my middle-class friends to lives of identification with the poor. Some heard and refused his call, but in general, the Lord seemed to be calling them to a ministry among their middle-class peers. To expect them to choose identification with the poor was to expect them to become apostles and missionaries across a great social, economic, and cultural barrier.
 

Just as the expatriate missionary community is trapped by structures, expectations, and affluence into middle and upper class ministries, so the average middle-class Filipino is driven by materialism and the intense demands of upward mobility (through education and post-graduate degrees). Many of the nouveau riche in the Philippines comes from genuine poverty. They are compelled by family responsibilities to keep moving up to take their family safely out of the danger of poverty. The poor who are still poor constitute a danger to this class. Any relationship to poor people outside of their own clan would drain hard-won finances.
 

To expect people from this class to jump the class barrier and live among the poor was expecting more than I myself had sacrificed. Never having experienced involuntary poverty it was much easier for me, as a “rich Westerner” and a member of the “upper class,” to choose voluntary poverty. I still had resources, security and friends. But for a person waging personal and family warfare with poverty, there is no romance in returning to a life of frugality.

Nevertheless, like Lazarus, Mary and Martha, the middle-class can have a significant commitment to the poor. Some fifteen of these middle-class co-laborers have spent extensive time helping in the slums, some making attempts to help economically, some with a Bible study group with a poor family. Others come and stay overnight, some for two or three weeks, to provide companionship.
 

I couldn’t call such people to live among the poor. The best I could do was to set the pace, trusting God to inspire some others by my example. And I could speak of Jesus who tells us: “As thou didst send me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.” (John 17:18).

The Carpenter’s justice
 

He had been born as a little babe in a dairy shed; he grew up as a refugee child. His parents were so poor; they could not afford a sheep at his dedication and so had to offer two turtledoves. Tradition tells us that as a teenager he worked to support his mother and family. He chose to be a scribe, men renowned for their poverty, rather than a rich high priest. He had no place to lay his head. He had calloused hands, wore wooden sandals, and died a poor man’s death.

He was Jesus, the just one! Nobody could fault him for economic injustice in his standard of living. Justice demanded equality between the sent one and people. Justice demanded identification or “solidarity” with the poor. He lived at the level of the people, identifying himself with them in voluntary simplicity.
 

Jesus, the just one, asked more from his middle-class companions than acceptance of the status quo. He demanded renunciation of possessions: “So therefore, whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:33).
 

He told his team: "Fear not, little flock . . . Sell your possessions, and give alms; provide yourself with purses that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail" (Luke 12:32–33).

Jesus here used the word “forsake” or “renounce.” It is an action word; it is not just an attitude.

Many of us would like it to focus purely on attitude: “Whoever has many possessions, but uses them wisely will be my disciple.” But Jesus was very blunt. It is junk or Jesus. Just junk or just Jesus—not junk and Jesus. Forsake first an attitude, but let the attitude result in action.

“You cannot serve God and affluence,” says Jesus else­where (Matthew 6:24). Not “may not,” but cannot! There is no choice.

But what does Jesus mean by renouncing all? Our Lord did not live in destitution. He grew up in a good home, possessed carpenter’s tools, probably played with toys as a child and had a common purse (bank account) with the disciples. He wore clothes. He had breakfast each morning.

He was not a beggar; he was not unemployed. He provided for his twelve followers through the ministry of women (Luke 8:3). They always had enough. He told them (in Matthew 6) that the Father would provide their food and clothing.

“Food and clothing” is a phrase for basic necessities. It may include shelter, work tools, books, children’s toys, decorations, and provision for celebration. In most situations today, it involves buying a home—just as the Levites were to own no possessions in Israel, but were to have their own home and enough garden to provide for themselves. But the same phrase excludes a life of ease, luxury and wealth. It is not a call to destitute poverty, but it is a call to simplicity. Just as involuntary and destitute poverty has no intrinsic virtue, so wealth often destroys spirituality.

The attitudes involved are important. But at issue is whether we will eliminate external, glittering possessions and follow him, developing an internal concentration on him—unfettered and unhindered by excess material baggage.

One way to apply this, a symbolic start, is to sit down with our families and go through each of our possessions and the use of our money to get rid of all excess—whatever detracts in time, money and energy from Christ.

Celebration!
 

But Jesus was no ascetic. He came eating, drinking and enjoying life, and was much criticized by the “Bible-believers” of his day for his lack of frugality.

Job, too, enjoyed feasting and drinking. The Old Testament is full of commands for festivals and celebration. We need to live out a “celebrating lifestyle of renunciation.”

Ironically, the conflict between the biblical concepts of celebration and renunciation was resolved in my mind one day as I was sitting relaxing with some middle-class friends eating ice cream. The Lord brought to mind the passage immediately preceding his call to renunciation: "When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your . . . rich neighbors . . . But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you" (Luke 14:12–14).

We are to enjoy life, but with and for the poor and needy. We are to die to our economic selves, but we are to live glorious economic resurrection lives for others.
 

My message to the middle-class could be summed up by the following five slogans:

Earn much
Consume little
Hoard nothing
Give generously
Celebrate life.

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© Viv Grigg & Urban Leadership Foundationand other materials © by various contributors & Urban Leadership Foundation,  for The Encarnacao Training Commission.  Last modified: July 2010