Money is the root of all evils.
— Common proverb, actually a misquote of the Bible
The lack of money is the root of all evils.
— Mark Twain
For the love of money is the root of all evils; it is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced their hearts with many pangs.
— 1 Timothy 6:10, Oxford Annotated Bible
Tomorrow’s American Catholic has called for essays relating how Franciscan thinking has influenced readers—so here’s my two-cents worth.
I attended St. Francis Solanus (the other St. Francis, the South American missionary) elementary school in Quincy, Illinois, and Franciscan priests staffed our parish. So, I learned in second grade about St. Francis of Assisi. He was a sensitive child who became a Catholic friar, mystic, poet, and founder of his Order. Born to a wealthy family, he embraced poverty and wandered from town to town, begging for food and sleeping wherever he could while preaching and hearing confessions. He tied his brown habit with a rope with three knots, representing the virtues he valued: poverty, chastity, and obedience. Many were inspired by him. Pope Innocent III met with him and gave him permission to start the new Order of Friars Minor. He was canonized by Pope Gregory IX two years after his death.
The Order attracted many followers, but with more people many things became a bit awkward. Begging for food had its limits, and sleeping in the rain or on the cold ground grew tiresome. Surely some practical measures were called for. Members of the Order in various towns procured housing where they could live together more efficiently, though a few objected because strict poverty was mandated. The portion of the Franciscans called “Conventuals” strongly argued that times had changed and members needed stable living arrangements and regular meals, but other Franciscans called “Spirituals” demanded strict poverty. Over several years the dispute grew bitter. What to do? Consult the pope, of course.
In 1279, Pope Nicholas III attempted to settle the dispute by issuing an official papal bull that stated that Franciscans who lived in houses and purchased food were only living on resources that belonged ultimately to the pope, so those members actually were still impoverished. Though satisfying the Conventuals, the Spirituals were not amused, and tension within the Order remained. Then Pope Nicholas died in 1280. Human nature being what it is, over the next 40 years the Conventuals rationalized the need for nicer houses and better food as well as the need for some sources of income, so the Spirituals raised the issue again with another pope in the 1320s.
Pope John XXII was better educated and was familiar with and admired Roman law, which stated that after a person had use of a home or property for an extended period of years, that person had a claim to ownership of that property. He viewed the fact that Franciscans lived in houses for decades but claimed not to own them as an unhealthy legal fiction. In 1323, he issued a new papal bull overturning the bull published by Pope Nicholas. Pope John ruled that it was fine for the Franciscans to own property and stated that he believed that Jesus and the apostles had also owned property, such as fishing nets and boats. Pope John advised a practical view.
Naturally, the Spirituals were flabbergasted. The famous Franciscan William of Ockham vehemently and publicly argued against Pope John’s opinion, and this ruptured William’s relationship with the Holy See. William moved from Rome to Germany for the rest of his life.
So much controversy! Let’s apply some 21st-century common sense.
My reading in the area has convinced me that First Timothy does not condemn money but instead condemns the love of money. This nuance supports my intuition that having money is a vital, practical necessity, but the excess pursuit of money that hurts others and crowds out other important priorities is the real problem. A father needs to buy shoes for his children and should be pleased that by earning a salary he can provide for his family. A father who makes his children wear worn-out shoes so that he can buy a gold ring to impress his coworkers is misusing his resources. In my view, the good father also need not feel too guilty that he is buying shoes for his children even though there are children on the other side of town who have no shoes. Of course, he cannot buy shoes for all the needy children. Though he should not feel guilty, he should be concerned; he can seek ways to work with others to help the underprivileged by contributing to food pantries or, to avoid overspending, to volunteer time in the soup kitchen across town. By doing so, he might actually meet some of those needy children and their families and show them that he cares and is doing practically, within limits, what he can to be helpful.
In my own life, I have routinely given to charity but only limited monetary donations; instead, I volunteer my time to be directly helpful in other ways. I have been a regular blood donor for 50 years, for example. I have given only small monetary donations to the Red Cross, but I have given scores of units of priceless human blood.
We need to avoid loving money (and material things) too much. But we need to use our financial resources as wisely as possible—in the biblical sense of true wisdom. ♦
James Magner, MD, is an endocrinologist and scientist who spent years studying the biochemistry and physiology of the pituitary hormone, TSH, and providing medical supervision for several projects within the pharmaceutical industry. He is the author of several books, including Seeking Hidden Treasures: A Collection of Curious Tales and Essays and Free to Decide: Building a Life in Science and Medicine.