Published on
November 7, 2024

Many Christians think that how they acquire and use money is peripheral to the gospel. Relatively few preachers address wealth and poverty in their sermons. Yet early Christianity proclaimed and practiced the countercultural value of caring for the poor. Their worship services reflected this value.

Helen Rhee teaches church history at Westmont College in Santa Barbara, California, and is an ordained minister of Free Methodist Church Santa Barbara. She specializes in how early Christian identity formed in the context of Greco-Roman culture. The books she’s written or edited include Loving the Poor, Saving the Rich: Wealth, Poverty, and Early Christian Formation (2012), Wealth and Poverty in Early Christianity (2017), and Illness, Pain, and Health Care in Early Christianity (2022). In this edited conversation, she explains that early Christians saw caring for the poor as essential to their Christian identity.

 

Why did you write this book, and for whom did you write it?

Loving the Poor, Saving the Rich is the second in a trilogy that began with Early Christian Literature, a monograph based on my dissertation. In the first book, I looked at accounts from the first three hundred years or so of early Christianity. I learned that one way Christians defined and represented themselves during a time of pagan-Christian conflict was to care for the poor. Despite being persecuted, the earliest Christians adapted Greco-Roman culture to present Christianity as a better way of living.

Loving the Poor, Saving the Rich book cover

While researching that first book, I noticed that early Christians saw caring for the poor as essential to their identity. My second book explores how Christians developed their theology about wealth and poverty, what wealth can do to the soul, and how to use wealth for the benefit of others and for salvation. Loving the Poor goes through the first three centuries, focusing on the second- and third-century developments and culminating in the early fourth century, when Constantine put the church in charge of caring for the poor. Reviewers say this is my most accessible book, along with Wealth and Poverty in Early Christianity, which is an anthology of primary texts by the church fathers. My college students read them.

 

How much did wealth and poverty matter to early Christians?

In Greco-Roman culture, people gave to receive. The rich and powerful gave to civic projects so they would receive praise, honor, glory, and enhanced status. They did not consider the poor a worthy group to give to. By contrast, some scholars say that Christianity made the poor visible. Preachers consistently taught that Christians should give to the poor because they bear the image of Christ and are part of the church. When you give to the poor, God will honor and repay you on God’s terms in the eschaton, at the judgment, and in the life to come.

Christians became known for their very organized care for the poor. They fed the poor, provided their burial, offered hospitality, ransomed captives, and defended widows and children in need. They visited and took care of the sick, not only of their own but also of the larger society, especially during recurring pandemics. They lived out the Greatest Commandment by loving God through loving their neighbors. They shared resources by building a common fund and hosting common meals. This communal giving built unity with Christians in other places and among social classes.

 

What were the roots of this early Christian priority on caring for the poor?

The Bible and the three marks of Jewish piety—prayer, fasting, and almsgiving—formed early Christian identity. The Law (Torah) declares that God is the protector of the poor; the Prophets condemn Israel and Judah for their sins of idolatry and injustice to the poor, widows, and orphans. Psalms speak often about being poor and needy, both materially and spiritually, and needing God’s protection from the rich and powerful. Jesus spoke of the judgment on those who fail to see him in “the least of these” (Matt. 25) and also of the rich fool who was not “rich toward God” (Luke 12). He said that the rich man’s complete disregard for Lazarus was a sin serious enough for him to end up in the fire (Luke 16). Matthew 19, Mark 10, and Luke 18 all record Jesus’ encounter with a rich young man who wanted to receive eternal life but could not follow Jesus due to his wealth. Early Christians used that encounter to teach that regular giving helps us detach from greed and worldliness and develop right relationships with God and our neighbors.

James 2 and 5 call out the injustice of rich people who oppress poor people and take them to court. Early Christians such as Clement of Alexandria also cautioned Christians about perpetuating categories such as “the pious poor” and “the wicked rich.” Both can be spiritually needy and materially greedy. However, the church fathers were clear that (rich) Christians could not nurture generosity and a certain level of detachment from wealth unless they practiced regular giving to the poor. 
 

How can churches today apply these teachings in worship? 

The first thing is to preach about it. In my class on the theology of wealth and poverty, I ask students when they last heard a sermon on these topics. Most say they haven’t heard one in years. If they did, it was usually about raising money for a church building campaign. In the United States, questions of how to use wealth are often considered very delicate and personal. Many churches today have made a dichotomy between supporting evangelical missions to save people’s souls and supporting social justice to care for people’s bodies and physical needs.

But my study of early Christianity has convinced me of the gravity of this topic. We cannot avoid it as Christians. The message of the gospel is that both mercy and justice, both spiritual and physical care, are equally important in living out our faith. Gregory of Nyssa, St. John of Chrysostom, and other church fathers preached that mercy and justice for the poor are not extra or optional things for Christians. In the early church, the bishops’ most important responsibilities were to preach the word, administer the sacraments, and head the care of the poor. Preachers need to proclaim that what we do with our wealth really matters, according to Jesus, as many of his gospel teachings show.

"Preachers need to proclaim that what we do with our wealth really matters"

How can churches apply these teachings to the offertory?

Worship is what connects all Christians. If we proclaim God as Savior and Lord, then we need to align our hearts with what God and Jesus care about. It makes sense to include the offering as part of worship. It’s good for pastors and deacons to remind the congregation of the offering purpose and tie it to Christ’s work. How we care for the poor and marginalized is part of what it means to be a Christian.

We should also consider whom our offerings are for. These days, the greatest number of offerings go to church buildings and salaries. These are, of course, important. But we should also ask questions about Christians in need throughout the world. Environmental injustice disproportionately affects the poor. Sub-Saharan Africa has a high concentration of Christians and economic poverty. We need to think about how the way we spend our money as individuals and churches might be used to impact others’ lives for the better.
 

Can you suggest other ways to remind worshipers that mercy and justice directly link with our Christian identities?

Specifically include the poor in prayer. Pray for the rich as well. Ask God how we can create greater justice and a better safety net for those who cannot help themselves, such as people with disabilities that prevent them from meeting their physical needs. Reconsider using the word “charity” in prayers because of its negative handout connotations. Maybe pray about mercy and justice instead. Choose songs about God as creator and owner of all things.

 

Have you made changes in your life as a result of writing Loving the Poor, Saving the Rich?

I became more aware of the gravity of aligning inner dispositions and outward practices. I financially support half a dozen ministries whose scope of work is local, regional, national, and international, from providing emergency help to long-term development. Early Christians saw giving and creating communities of koinonia as ways to worship God and involve themselves in each other’s lives. Therefore, I can’t only donate money; I have to be involved in the lives of the poor. For example, I support Santa Barbara Rescue Mission. When my health allows, I also go to their graduation ceremonies and get to know volunteers with whom I serve dinners.

I joined a local community group with others in our town who care about social justice. We met every two weeks for justice-themed Bible studies. We talked about how to do fasting that makes a difference both with God and one another. When early Christians fasted, not only did they not eat, but they also saved the money they would have spent on meals so they could give it to the poor. Imagine if, during Advent or Lent, a small group would set aside $5 per person per meal once a day for forty days. That would add up to $200 per person. Then, as a group, everyone could discuss what organization or person(s) to support.

 

Learn More

Read Loving the Poor, Saving the Rich: Wealth, Poverty, and Early Christian Formation, by Helen Rhee. Read her related essays for Westmont College and The Yale ISM Review. Explore time-tested worship resources about wealth, poverty, and justice from Calvin Institute of Christian Worship and Reformed Journal.