“We are not in touch with the mass of the labouring people,” says the Bishop of Birmingham. “Is not the reason of this because we are the Church of the rich rather than of the poor—of capital rather than of labour? By this I mean that in the strata of Society the Church works from above rather than from below. The opinions and the prejudices that are associated with its administration as a whole are the opinions and prejudices of the higher and higher middle classes rather than of the wage earners.... Capital and labour are names now for great class interests and organisations representing men in many, and the Church finds itself in fact and on the whole moving in the grooves which are precisely those from which Christ warned us off: it finds itself expressing the point of view which is precisely not that which Christ chose for His Church.... Our whole system of Church charity expresses a bounty administered out of benevolent feeling, by a wealth which makes no apology for enjoying itself to a poverty which it makes no pretence to share.”[33]
Or the Bishop of Manchester to the Church Congress in 1908:
“I suggest that our religious revival may lead us to a new appreciation of the spirit of brotherhood—one of the great ideals of the democratic movement. Secondly, I suggest that our religious revival may take the form of a mission to the wealthy and prosperous. It is the curse of riches that they blur and even conceal altogether the heavenly vision. They tend to make pleasure the business of life. A man’s wealth is measured by the time and money that he can spend on amusement. So the outlook, not only of the rich, but of all classes, becomes narrowed and confused.”
And of course other instances could be quoted, but the main body of the Church shows no disposition to follow. They are bound to the governing classes, and the governing classes have the money and therefore the power such as it is.
The Free Churches on the whole are bolder, for they deal with a simpler class. But neither do they tirelessly condemn money-hunting, because, being poor themselves, they are far too dependent on the large subscriptions of the richer members of their congregations. But not even by building chapels can a rich man justify himself, though he may be blessed as a benefactor by his co-religionists.
The Roman Catholics too, who anyhow in their churches do not give any special privileges to rank, have their tongues tied by the lavish donations of rich and noble patrons which they are only too glad to receive. To emphasise the Christian condemnation of the rich man would therefore not be politic or in accordance with what they conceive to be their best interests.
It is not as if Christians of all sects and denominations could not discover texts and arguments enough in their Bibles to support them were they to alter this course and advance courageously along the straight way. The best words ever uttered on the evil and folly of riches are to be found in its pages in the Old Testament as well as the New. A collection of these sayings would form the strongest indictment of wealth that could be framed.
There is the great Proverb, “A good name is rather to be sought than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold.” Or the passage from Job, “Though he heap up silver as the dust and prepare raiment as the day, he may prepare it, but the just shall put it on and the innocent shall divide the silver,” and “Will he esteem thy riches? No, not gold nor all the forces of strength.” Or the Psalmist’s warning, “If riches increase, set not your heart upon them.” Or the words of Ecclesiastes, “There is a sore evil which I have seen under the sun, namely, riches kept for the owners thereof to their hurt.”
But we must resist the temptation of making a collection of quotations here. The declarations of this truth are well known, even though they may not be accepted or appreciated. The truth about money may still be looked upon as impracticable Utopianism; one day it may be discovered to be sound economics. The practice of restraint and renunciation is not only theoretically sound, but both subjectively and objectively expedient.
There is, we must confess, a recurring note in modern thought, the constant use of which is amounting almost to a popular mannerism. It is a method of reasoning which inclines men to spurn deep convictions or strong single-minded purpose as clumsy, uncouth, and unphilosophic, and to welcome in their place involved generalisations and a spirit of abstract compromise and theoretical balancing. Whether this tends to a more profound acquisition of knowledge and a more exact and scientific adjustment of mental conceptions, is not for us to say, but that it casts a weakening spell over personal initiative and greatly impedes decisive action is clear beyond doubt.