The weight that presses down a man's spirit until he will not be brave and honest; the chain that stops the wheels of the gospel chariot; the gripping fetter that holds charity from extending her hand of helpfulness--is called "the love of money." The power that drives men into ignoble, selfish self-sacrifice even unto death, that makes thieves and liars of upright men, demagogues and time-servers of statesmen, clowns and actors and perverters of truth of preachers, ferocious beasts of good-natured, tender-hearted people; the demon of darkness that hides light and hinders progress; the fosterer of all [138] crimes; the corrupter of family, state, and church; the tyrant that sways millions of slaves and drives them on even unto perdition--that is the love of money. "Be ye free from the love of money" (Heb. 13:5). What a desirable freedom it would be! What an unbinding of hands and hearts to do good, true work of God! What men we could be--just, strong, brave, true--were we free from the love of money!

      The Lord Jesus invariably traces covetousness back to anxiety as its root. That is where it really begins. "Ye can not serve God and mammon. Therefore I say unto you, Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink" (Matt. 6:24, 25). Or, again, requested to assist in dividing an inheritance--one of the few requests Jesus refused--he said, "Take heed, and keep yourselves from all covetousness: for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth," and gave an account of the foolish rich man who laid up treasures for himself and was not rich toward God--and again the warning: "Therefore I say unto you, Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on" (Luke 12:13-22). The anxious man is a covetous man in the making. Directly he has laid up for today's need, he grows concerned for tomorrow, and still frantically grasps at supplies for the coming weeks and months and for a year. Then the shadow of possible accident falls on his soul, and he is driven on to secure himself still further. That accomplished, comes the fear of losing what he has, and perpetual eagerness to add more. A thousand imaginary needs trouble him; and artificial needs arise with increasing wealth. He gets poorer as he grows richer. He can [139] afford much less now in proportion for good works and for God's kingdom than in the days of his poverty. He has to scheme and manage more to make the best showing, to control outgoings and to prepare against possible losses. His financial matters give him more care than ever. Added to that, the subtle fascination of the gathering instinct, and the ambitious racing instinct--the endeavoring to be richer than another man, the grasping at social preference--how will it end? It is the commonest sin of our generation to sell the life for meat and the body for raiment. And this is the service of Mammon, which begins in anxiety and which is incompatible with the service of God.

      "In nothing be anxious." How impossible this sounds as a piece of advice! Yet God said it, and, as usual, he meant it, every word; and the one through whom that injunction was given, Paul, had known turbulent days in abundance and was even then in a prison, uncertain whether he would be released or publicly executed. It was no mere pretty theory he was advocating; but what his Master had taught him and enabled him to do, and what had been tested in the fires of all furnaces and in the uproars of the elements, in the course of his eventful life--that he quietly commended to the Philippians. "In nothing be anxious." It is too hard on you. Troubles you can bear, but worry is too much. God did not intend it. Then, it is dangerous. The cares of this world will choke out the word of God as quickly as riches and pleasures (Matt. 13:22). They unfit us for the occasion of Christ's coming (Luke 21:34). It is absolutely necessary to be free from anxieties and cares. But how shall we avoid them? Let Paul explain. "In nothing be anxious, [140] but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God" (Phil. 4:6). Then comes promise of a guard stationed at our hearts to keep out the enemy--the bitter, corroding, distracting cares: "And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall guard your hearts and your thoughts in Christ Jesus" (verse 7).

[TAG 138-141]