Sophie Tucker supposedly said, “I've been rich and I’ve been poor — and believe me, rich is better.”
I’ve been poor and, compared to those days of pennies rather than dollars, I am much better off financially. But is “better” a good description of the differences between the two? The person who has always been poor might think riches are better, but in all honesty, I’m thinking that having more money might be described as “easier” rather than “better.”
James writes about trials and how a person can rejoice in them because God uses them as tests of faith to reveal faith and produce maturity, particularly patient endurance. Struggling without enough money is a test of faith, but I know now that having money is also a test.
Let the lowly brother glory in his exaltation, but the rich in his humiliation, because as a flower of the field he will pass away. For no sooner has the sun risen with a burning heat than it withers the grass; its flower falls, and its beautiful appearance perishes. So the rich man also will fade away in his pursuits. (James 1:9-11)
As if being told to rejoice in trials wasn’t extreme, James says here that a poor man is actually experiencing exaltation. Trials are God at work, and if a Christian realizes this, they also can rejoice in the trial of poverty.
Right away I feel guilty writing those words. I am content and not poor. How can I say that poverty is something positive? Particularly from my perspective? The liberation theologists would burn me at the stake for such an idea. But here it is. The Bible says that lowly people (in this context, it means poor folks) can glory in their exaltation.
How is poverty an exaltation? One of my commentaries explains that the poor believer can glory (“count it all joy” in v. 2) in the fact that God has exalted him by allowing him to experience difficult circumstances, for these will only perfect his character and faith (v. 4). In God’s eternal perspective, character and faith are far more valuable than money. They last forever, but money is a temporary thing, here today and gone tomorrow. In other words, the poor man might be poor in this temporary existence, but in the kingdom of God, he who has passed the tests of faith is a rich person!
Solomon, considered the wisest of men, wrote things like: “He who loves silver will not be satisfied with silver; nor he who loves abundance, with increase” and “When goods increase, they increase who eat them; so what profit have the owners except to see them with their eyes?” and “The sleep of a laboring man is sweet, whether he eats little or much; but the abundance of the rich will not permit him to sleep” and “Riches kept for their owner to his hurt. But those riches perish through misfortune . . . and as he came from his mother’s womb, naked shall he return.” (Ecclesiastes 5:10-15)
In most cases, a rich person finds it difficult to trust the Lord, not himself or his money, even though both cannot give him eternal life. Yet because riches are so fleeting, a wealthy believer can glory in are the trials that bring him low, trials that teach that life is short and that his pursuits will fade away. His glory is having an eternal view of things rather than making money his idol.
Today’s to-do list is long and I’m thankful for my “helpers” so I don’t need to find firewood to cook, or weave a broom from straw to sweep the floor, or grind up berries for ink to write a letter. Relatively speaking, I am wealthy with these helpers that money can buy.
However, I can look back on those days of poverty and be thankful for the lessons learned about trusting God. He took care of me and filled me with joy and a sense of purpose. Now, on those rare days when the computer crashes, or the power is off, or the Internet connection goes wonky, I can glory in the reminder of my true wealth. It isn’t in money or things but in Jesus. He has given me the riches of faith, eternal life, and even those trials that develop lasting endurance.
In the early seventies when I met Jesus, I was living on a farm that my first husband had signed over to me rather than pay support after our divorce. It was a good deal in the long run, but on the short term, those were lean days.
My children remember eating a lot of macaroni and cheese, not the boxed kind (it was too expensive); I made it from scratch. Each week my parents went to the city for groceries. I gave them my list and the pitiful amount of money that I could afford. They respected my efforts, but added a few extra items out of their pocket.
One year I bought a hunting licence. I didn’t hunt or even have a gun, but my neighbor did, and I knew about a leaking granary where a herd of deer had lunch every day. That winter, we had grain-fed venison in our freezer. The rest of the time, it was pretty much a hand to mouth life.
After Christ came into my life, I was still poor. I remarried, and my new husband was in debt. We used cardboard boxes for night tables and stayed thin because we didn’t have enough food to become fat. All things stayed lean for several years.
Then my husband met Christ. We were living in California at the time, and fortunate enough to attend Grace Community Church and sit under the teaching of John MacArthur. My husband learned about tithing and in faith began to give 10 percent of his gross wages. Logically, it makes no sense to give away money when you don’t have enough, but that is when the raises started. Each time my husband increased his giving, his employer raised his salary. This was in the early 80s.
Now, nearly thirty years later, we find ourselves financially blessed and easily able to share what we have. We got rid of those cardboard boxes a long time ago. In fact, we gave away their replacements (and the rest of the bedroom furniture that went with them) to our grandson last year. Our freezer is full and every day we thank God for taking care of us with such abundance.
I know that this is not always the way. Some Christians in some parts of the world do not have two cars and a nice home. Some Christians live in fear for their lives as well. I also know that Satan tempted Jesus with the “things of the world” so my heart is in constant danger of being swept away by the “cares and riches of this world.” Money can ruin loyalty to the Lord
Would I be happy with less? I’ve thought about that as I pack up boxes of things that we no longer use or need so they can be given to someone who does need them. My answer is yes. Back in those days of having almost nothing, the joy of the Lord was in my heart. He gives happiness. Possessions might do that for a time, but it never lasts. The excitement of “new” quickly fades. The joy of Jesus is always with me.
This morning’s reading reminds me of the blessedness of God’s care, not that He promises abundance, but when a person’s heart is right with Him, He gives us contentment. Psalm 37:16 says, “A little that a righteous man has is better than the riches of many wicked.” I agree. I’ve been happy with little. It isn’t the stuff that makes me happy; it is the Giver.
Not only that, stuff does not last. Those first night tables that we were finally able to afford are no longer ours. Other things have worn out, or become obsolete. Things can be stolen, or ruined by one thing or another. The riches of this world fly away.
But I notice a promise from God a couple of verses later. Psalm 37:18 says, “The Lord knows the days of the upright, and their inheritance shall be forever.”
This inheritance is not physical property or bankable bucks. It is eternal life, and includes the promise that all my needs will be most gloriously met. With Jesus, there will be no more sorrow, pain or tears.
There will also be no more ads and flyers, consumer surveys, bills to pay, cars to upkeep, or furniture to dust. I won’t have to rent a carpet steamer or haul the vacuum cleaner up and down stairs. I also will not need to stack anything in a corner because the bookshelf is too full.
The “little” that I have here is just that; little compared to the riches of glory. The things that I have here will fade, rust, pass on to someone else, but the inheritance I receive — because Jesus died — will always be mine. For this, I am most thankful.