Chalcedon Blog

No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one and despise the other, Ye cannot serve God and mammon. Matt. 6:24

The Scriptures are replete with such uncompromising axioms -- black and white statements that force the reader to decide this day whom he will serve. I often rejoice that the words "might" and "maybe" are shunned by the Biblical writers. They don't "feel" something is right. They rather admonish, exhort, and command. You are never unsure about where they stand, or what the Lord -- through them -- is requiring you to do. This would explain the rampant Biblical illiteracy: studying the Bible is like having a shovel full of responsibility tossed in your face. We tend to avoid that sort of thing.

We cannot serve two masters. This does not, however, prohibit us from making the vain attempt to do so. We are warned of this confusion of commitment because our tendency is to serve two masters. Man is -- as Aristotle posited -- a "political animal," and therefore, beset with multiple allegiances. This is the root of our personal and corporate confusion. Life decisions become simple when you're limited to two choices. Seeking to please anyone -- even yourself -- besides the Lord eliminates you from being a servant of Christ (Gal. 1:10).

Our Lord places the disparity between God and money. But, by money, He is not simply referring to an undue greed for wealth. The subtlety of the love of money is apparent in more than desiring unnecessary material comforts or pursuing the power that money often brings. As lusting in one's heart is equivalent to adultery so the love of money can be epitomized in ways not readily perceived at first glance.

Therefore, I say unto you, take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; or yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not life more than meat, and the body than raiment? v. 25

By taking thought about what we will eat and drink we are serving mammon. By concerning ourselves with where our clothing will come from we are granting an allegiance to the god of mammon. How so? Because instinctively we know that we cannot provide for ourselves. Even if we grow our own food we are still reliant upon weather and such for a healthy harvest. We are dependent upon additional factors other than ourselves, and therefore, these additional elements take on a "god-like" character. We rely on them. They absorb our faith.

Taking Thought

Worry is form of doubt. And though we do spend a great deal of time worrying, it produces no measurable results. So, why do we do so much of it? Why spend the energy worrying if it is insufficient in alleviating any of your burdens?

Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature? v. 27

Worry is not only a form of doubt, it is also a form of faith. Worrying is our way of praying to the "natural order." However, the natural order is a dumb idol and cannot add even a second to our life span. Yet, we grant the natural order more authority than God. Worry is the evidence of our allegiance to naturalism.

In this sense we are equivalent to men of greed. We are equally committed to the god of mammon as the man who builds empires. But does money make the world go around? Some would say so. The Word of God says otherwise. Even creation understands this. Plants and animals demonstrate no kind of materialism nor concern for provision:

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into the barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? v. 26

And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. v. 28-29

Think of the implications. The fowl of the air have a job to do in the world God created. Their role is so important that the ecosystem would break down if they did not fulfill their order. Therefore, as the bird is about God's business the Lord graciously feeds him. As the bird picks up pieces of straw for a nest he snags a worm under the pile. The bird's concern is only his order, not his provision. God knows the bird needs food. The bird need not seek after it.

(For all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. v. 32

It is the Gentiles that seek after both greed and provision. It is because they are atheistic. Christians, however, can easily demonstrate the same form of unbelief. By occupying ourselves with our livelihood more so than the affairs of the Kingdom we are practicing neo-atheism.

But seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. v. 33

The order of the Kingdom breaks down when we take thought of our livelihood. God knows what we need and provides it as we are busy about His business. This is also a form of maturity as we move beyond the childish life of ceaseless "requests" and move into Kingdom service. For example, when my oldest son was small he constantly asked for things like a glass of milk, a piece of candy, and a toy. When he became a teenager he asked for gas money and the keys to the car. Now, he asks if he can help me with the yard work. He puts aside personal requests that he might be about his "father's business." He is now a man. He now understands that provision must be balanced with responsibility. Not responsibility to naturalism, but responsibility to his Christian ethic -- faithfulness to God's law and seeking first the Kingdom.

For too many Christians the fundamental matters of life are left to their own discretion. This is why millions of Southern Baptists can send their children to public school and their wives to launch independent careers -- thereby creating a "house divided." The Word of God is not consulted in such matters -- only in matters of the heart. This gross marginalizing of God has grave consequences. It is idol worship, for it exalts man, his reason, and the natural order above that of Scripture.

Our Lord says to consider the reckless abandonment of the fowl of the air or the lily of the field. They do not take a single thought about what they will need. They are completely dependent upon God and consumed with the task He has assigned them. These metaphors are hyperbolic. They are exaggerations to make the point. Much like when our Lord states, "if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out" (Matt. 5:29). You must be willing to forsake the god of mammon in order to live like the fowl of the air. If we truly search our hearts we would easily see just how much we bow before mammon's throne.

Our objective is to discard those elements or principles that hinder our effective service in the Kingdom of God. I am concerned about Christian Reconstructionists that are too focused upon the "principles of this world" in their decision making. When I read articles by reformed men on time management and personal organization I get a little suspicious. Rushdoony's comments on "orderliness" are most enlightening and further illustrate his example of godly purpose:

There is a fundamental disorderliness about life because the present is not the final order. My library, where I am writing this, is a very disorderly place, with books piled here and there, stacks of paper, and manuscripts, letters, and more, because work is in progress. To bring my library of 30,000 books to a final order is to walk out of it and die! The passionate purpose of my life and all that I have is God's final order, and the subordination of all things to that realm. It is pornography for me to impose an order of my imagination or desire on that purpose, or to supplant it. (Rushdoony, Roots of Reconstruction, p.214)

Wow. It would be "pornographic" to impose our own desire on the purpose of God. Now that's what I call "sticking it to the god of mammon."