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the snake in your bed (part 2 of 4)
Last week we discussed my friend’s metaphor of wealth: a snake. Today we’ll address the tension of how two wealthy men in the Bible responded totally differently to Jesus’ invitation.
but is wealth really a snake?
Here’s my honest problem with the metaphor: a snake in your bed is only a threat. There is no version of the story where the man and the snake coexist well. The only winning move is to never have owned the snake in the first place.
And while it rightly captures the dangers of wealth, if that’s where your theology of wealth ends, you’ve got a problem. There’s another half of the metaphor that’s missing.
Scripture doesn’t treat wealth as a predator. Deuteronomy 8:18 says it plainly: “Remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth.”
God gave you that ability. On purpose.
If God is the one who gives me the ability to produce wealth, what do I think he intended for me to do with it?
Global missions run on money. Medical care costs money. Raising a family, building a business that honors God, supporting your church, caring for the poor -- all of it is powered by wealth generation. These aren’t the side effects of sleeping with a snake. They’re the fruit of something God designed.
So wealth isn’t necessarily a snake, but it’s by no means neutral.
I’ve described wealth like the sun. It’s magnetic. It draws you in. Get too close and you’ll burn up -- that’s the rich young ruler. But pull too far away and you’ll miss the warmth and light God intended for your life. God made wine and oil to gladden the heart of man. Enjoyment isn’t the enemy.
Or think of it like manure. (Stay with me.) Spread wealth around and everything it touches grows healthier. Hoard it in one place and you’re sitting on a toxic pile that breeds disease.
The snake metaphor gets the danger right. Wealth can definitely be dangerous. Serving it is. Loving it is. Hoarding it is. We are easily drawn to it, impressed by it, and most of us commit our lives to accumulating it. But the metaphor misses the other half of the truth: wealth is a tool, and in the hands of someone surrendered to God, it can be leveraged for eternal impact.
In my orbit around wealth, am I drawing too close to its warmth and comfort? Have I been diligent to spread the fertilizer of my wealth around so that it might bring life and refreshment to others?
By Nicholas Garofalothe snake in your bed (part 2 of 4)
Last week we discussed my friend’s metaphor of wealth: a snake. Today we’ll address the tension of how two wealthy men in the Bible responded totally differently to Jesus’ invitation.
but is wealth really a snake?
Here’s my honest problem with the metaphor: a snake in your bed is only a threat. There is no version of the story where the man and the snake coexist well. The only winning move is to never have owned the snake in the first place.
And while it rightly captures the dangers of wealth, if that’s where your theology of wealth ends, you’ve got a problem. There’s another half of the metaphor that’s missing.
Scripture doesn’t treat wealth as a predator. Deuteronomy 8:18 says it plainly: “Remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth.”
God gave you that ability. On purpose.
If God is the one who gives me the ability to produce wealth, what do I think he intended for me to do with it?
Global missions run on money. Medical care costs money. Raising a family, building a business that honors God, supporting your church, caring for the poor -- all of it is powered by wealth generation. These aren’t the side effects of sleeping with a snake. They’re the fruit of something God designed.
So wealth isn’t necessarily a snake, but it’s by no means neutral.
I’ve described wealth like the sun. It’s magnetic. It draws you in. Get too close and you’ll burn up -- that’s the rich young ruler. But pull too far away and you’ll miss the warmth and light God intended for your life. God made wine and oil to gladden the heart of man. Enjoyment isn’t the enemy.
Or think of it like manure. (Stay with me.) Spread wealth around and everything it touches grows healthier. Hoard it in one place and you’re sitting on a toxic pile that breeds disease.
The snake metaphor gets the danger right. Wealth can definitely be dangerous. Serving it is. Loving it is. Hoarding it is. We are easily drawn to it, impressed by it, and most of us commit our lives to accumulating it. But the metaphor misses the other half of the truth: wealth is a tool, and in the hands of someone surrendered to God, it can be leveraged for eternal impact.
In my orbit around wealth, am I drawing too close to its warmth and comfort? Have I been diligent to spread the fertilizer of my wealth around so that it might bring life and refreshment to others?