Episode #73—Wealth, Generosity, and Contentment

A listener recently posed a challenging question: How and why is it acceptable for some people to be wealthy, to possess material things like expensive houses and cars, whilst others struggle? Should we use our money to help others instead, or can we enjoy what we have?

This question touches on a tension that runs particularly deep in conservative Baptist circles—the notion that poverty is somehow virtuous in itself. We see this reflected in the way some churches compensate their ministers, keeping them on modest salaries even when resources are available, as though financial struggle were essential to spiritual humility. But this perspective misunderstands what Scripture actually teaches about wealth.

The issue isn’t money itself, but rather our relationship with it. Scripture doesn’t say that money is the root of all evil—it identifies “the love of money” as the problem (1 Timothy 6:10). When preaching through the qualifications of an elder in 1 Timothy 3, particularly the requirement that he not be “a lover of money,” the heart of the matter becomes clear: It’s about wanting more and more, never having enough. It’s not about whether you can afford a nice car and choose to buy one, especially if you’re already giving faithfully and sacrificially to the church.

Scripture provides numerous examples of wealthy believers. In the New Testament, we encounter Lydia, a seller of purple goods—an expensive commodity that marked her as a successful businesswoman (Acts 16:14). Joseph of Arimathea was wealthy enough to provide his own tomb for Jesus’ burial (Matthew 27:57–60). The Philippian jailer had a household large enough to include servants and a home spacious enough to host church gatherings (Acts 16:31–34).

The Old Testament offers even more prominent examples: Solomon, David, and Abraham were all extraordinarily wealthy individuals. Their wealth wasn’t presented as inherently sinful or something they needed to renounce.

Acts describes how “they had everything in common” and were “selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need” (Acts 2:44–45). It’s tempting to absolutise this practice, making it a universal mandate for all Christians in all times. However, this arrangement emerged in a particular context where the church was a minority, and many believers were losing their livelihoods because of their conversion.

Crucially, this sharing was voluntary. When Ananias and Sapphira sold their field and lied about the proceeds, Peter’s rebuke reveals the principle at work: “While it remained unsold, did it not remain your own? And after it was sold, was it not at your disposal?” (Acts 5:4). The sin wasn’t keeping their property or money, but deception. People gave because they saw the need and were moved in their hearts, not because material possessions were inherently evil.

Jesus himself said, “For you always have the poor with you” (Matthew 26:11). While he affirmed our ability and responsibility to do good to them, he didn’t suggest that Christians could simply solve poverty if we all lived rightly. Poverty is a consequence of living in a fallen world, and thinking we can eliminate it entirely may inadvertently suggest we’re wiser than God.

Scripture’s emphasis isn’t on enforced equality but on generosity, gratitude, and living in response to God’s good gifts to us in the gospel. This generosity takes many forms, not just financial giving.

Consider the practical resources mentioned in Romans 16. Paul greets Prisca and Aquila “and the church in their house” (Romans 16:3, 5). Without believers who had homes large enough to host gatherings, where would the church meet? Who would provide meals for fellowship? Paul even commends Phoebe as “a patron of many and of myself as well” (Romans 16:2). Her financial support enabled Paul to fulfil his missionary calling. While Paul himself forsook worldly goods to be more effective, he couldn’t have done so without people like Phoebe who had the means to support him.

Many churches today benefit enormously from the generosity of wealthy members—whether it’s providing shade netting, purchasing equipment, or buying vehicles. None of this would be possible without believers who both have resources and use them generously.

Generosity flows from the heart, but so does the hoarding that comes from loving money. The rich young ruler in Mark’s Gospel was told, “Go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me” (Mark 10:21). His refusal revealed that he valued his possessions more than eternal life—it was fundamentally a heart attitude.

Similarly, the parable of the sower warns that “the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things enter in and choke the word, and it proves unfruitful” (Mark 4:19). It’s not money itself but the desire for more that chokes out the gospel’s life-giving power.

As Jesus taught, “it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but what comes out of the mouth; this defiles a person” (Matthew 15:11), because the issue is the heart. You can take a vow of poverty and still find ways to idolise things.

John’s first epistle warns: “Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him” (1 John 2:15). The “world” here refers to the system that seeks to usurp God’s place. Discerning when our actions stem from worldly love isn’t always straightforward—it’s not as simple as “more equals worldly love” or “less equals more righteousness.”

When Scripture speaks to “the rich,” who comes to mind? For most people, the rich are always someone else—someone wealthier than themselves. Yet the vast majority of people reading or listening to this are, by biblical standards, wealthy. Anyone listening to a podcast on a smartphone is rich by global standards. We must avoid making wealth relative, where “the rich” are always the problem and we’re always fine, when in fact we face the same temptations.

The contentment issue is crucial here: If you’re not content with where God has placed you now, an extra million won’t change that. Even poor people can love money, because it’s about the attitude of wanting more and lacking contentment.

Consider the relativity of wealth: A Toyota Hilux might seem modest in some contexts but represents extraordinary wealth in rural Africa. Where’s the standard? Who defines “rich”?

Paul sets an almost impossibly high standard in 1 Timothy 6:6–9:

Food and clothing—not even a house! Paul purposefully set the bar this low to highlight the point. In Philippians, he writes about learning “the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need” (Philippians 4:12). Maturity isn’t about removing certain things from our lives to stop struggling with sin—that’s often the simplest but least effective approach. True maturity is learning to handle both wealth and poverty with contentment.

Christians needn’t live ascetic lives, making themselves as uncomfortable as possible. Certain Roman Catholic sects have sought to afflict themselves, as though the material world were inherently evil. But God has given us blessings to richly enjoy (1 Timothy 6:17). This isn’t something to be ashamed of—it’s something to be grateful for. We enjoy these gifts in their proper place, looking to God as the giver of all good things.

Many believers enjoy their God-given gifts by sharing them: inviting others to their holiday homes, taking people boating, bringing along those who couldn’t otherwise afford such experiences. This demonstrates the heart issue at work.

As 1 Timothy 6 teaches, the goal is to “be rich in God,” handling money in such a way that we show God, not money, to be our greatest treasure. The love of money ultimately stems from a lack of faith in God’s provision. Do we feel safe in our investments and secure homes because of what we possess, or do we have the pure contentment that trusts God whether we have much or little?

There’s also a matter of control in giving. If you give money expecting it back, that’s not truly giving. If you tithe to the church but want to control how it’s spent, you’re not really relinquishing ownership. Scripture is clear: When you give, you give without expecting return.

We must acknowledge Jesus’ words: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:25). In our world, money is power, and we mustn’t be naïve about this reality. But we must also place the blame where it belongs. The problem isn’t money itself. Money is a tool. The problem is our idolatrous, prideful hearts that will use whatever means available to serve sinful ends unless God gives us grace to resist.

When giving, do you see yourself as a steward of God’s resources, willing to give them up if he calls you to do so, using them for the good of his people? Or are you seeking to build your own kingdom and influence through the power these resources provide?

What can we do to help struggling church members? First, note the important phrase: church members. You need to be part of a church to benefit from the church’s care. The church is called to look after one another.

If you have wealth, enjoy it, but enjoy it within the church community. This provides accountability against falling into the trap of loving money and serving yourself. Scripture tells us to “do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith” (Galatians 6:10). Our giving and helping ought to prioritise the family of God.

However, we must also heed Paul’s instruction to the Thessalonians: “If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat” (2 Thessalonians 3:10). It’s tempting to become reliant on the generosity of wealthy church members, but Scripture doesn’t support able-bodied people refusing to work whilst expecting others to provide. This is a particular challenge in many African contexts where dependency can become problematic.

The biblical perspective on wealth isn’t about enforced poverty or universal equality. It’s about hearts transformed by the gospel, expressing themselves in generous stewardship, genuine contentment, and trust in God rather than possessions. Whether we have much or little, the call is the same: hold loosely to what God has given, use it for his glory and the good of his people, and find your security and satisfaction in him alone.