SISTER WISDOM

Godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. And having food and clothing, let us be content.

But they that will deliberately and desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful cravings, which cause them to sink down into total ruin.

For the LOVE of money is a root of all kinds of wrong thinking: when people have given themselves up to the love of money, they have strayed from the faith, and end up torturing themselves with consuming grief.

But thou, O Woman of God, flee these things and follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, and meekness.

from 1 Timothy 6

It doesn’t seem like a bad thing to want money.

I want money. I need to pay bills, pay off debt, buy a new car, buy food, diapers, clothes, stuff. I don’t want fancy stuff. I don’t want to shop on Rodeo Drive, don’t care if I wear name brands, don’t consider myself materialistic. I like bargains, thrift stores, good deals, reusing, and frugality.

And I like having money.

It’s a slippery thing, money. It’s not meant to be more than a tool which we use, but it becomes a goal. Then it becomes a god. It consumes our attention, then our affection, and then our lives.

I’m thinking about this because lately I’ve had more success in freelance writing. I’m actually making money in order to help with our regular bills and expenses. That’s a good thing, but I caught myself last week, after reaching my target amount for the week, desperately scrambling to make more. Why? Why did I need more?

I didn’t need more.

It was just so much fun to make money and have money that I wanted more. It’s a little addictive. Maybe it’s a lot addictive. Have you ever noticed that the more money you make, the more needs you have?

We were making it without my “extra” money; but as soon as I started bringing in some cash, suddenly we needed more and more and more. I have to step back and remind myself that we can survive without my contributions. It’s great to have the additional money. We really do need it, but we can survive without it. Making money isn’t my life goal. I can’t let it become that.

When money becomes the goal, morality becomes uncertain.

An example from my own freelance writing work: I heard of another pay-per-article site that had good rates and regular work. I applied. They don’t tell you much about the type of content until you are accepted. I got accepted, and since one of my other regular work sources was kind of drying up, I was happy. I went to the site, logged in, and started browsing the available projects. Lots of them. Fairly good rates. Interesting topics… very interesting. In fact, all of them appear to be academic topics. Student paper-type topics. I read a few project descriptions. This company had hired me to write papers for high school and college students.

And that’s when the money vs. morality came into the picture.

Cheating is wrong. Plagiarism is wrong. I’ve never turned in a paper I didn’t write myself. I never let my friends copy my work when I was a student. And now, here is a website offering my $40 to write an essay for a high school student who doesn’t want to do the work. It’s an obvious wrong choice for me, but I still had to “think about it.”

The lure of money is tempting enough to make me want to justify doing that type of work.

I didn’t do it. In fact, this morning I resigned my membership in the site. Now it’s not an option, so it won’t be a temptation. If it were still available to me, I could get drawn in. I could justify. Lots of people do this sort of thing. I’m not the one cheating; I’m just writing the paper. I don’t really know what it’s for. And that’s one step closer to giving myself up for the love of money.

Really, that’s not a good bargain. I think I’ll pass.