church and capitalism.

Man continually standing in need of the assistance of others, must fall upon some means to procure their help. This he does not merely by coaxing and courting; he does not expect it unless he can turn it to your advantage or make it appear to be so. Mere love is not sufficient for it, till he applies in some way to your self-love. A bargain does this in the easiest manner. When you apply to a brewer or butcher for beer or for beef, you do not explain to him how much you stand in need of these, but how much it would be to his interest to allow you to have them for a certain price. You do not address his humanity, but his selflove….

-Words from the champion of Capitalism, Adam Smith, in Lectures on Jurisprudence, 1896.


Capitalism turns us inward, telling us to focus on our self-interest. It teaches us to relate to one another at the most instinctual level--how can you serve my interests. And this is perhaps the best argument for capitalism: it claims to generate a common good by utilizing the natural desire in all men for self-preservation. On these terms, capitalism appears to be the most reasonable, most practical of all economic relations. But we know from experience that this is not the case. Where does self-preservation stop and gluttony begin? What divides the instincts of survival from the vices of greed and pride? These boundaries are so broken in our society that the common good is lost in the ever widening gap between the rich and the poor. Yet, I do not wish to criticize capitalism as a national economic system (at least, not within the scope of this post), but instead, the relation it has to the church in the United States and the influence it has had upon it.

Capitalism, as part of the American milieu--as part of the freedom-crazed atmosphere in which we breathe--has stuck to the church like the thick smell of smoke upon soft clothing. This synthesis of church and capitalism has created an odd creature, marked by consumerism, a devastating competitive spirit, and radical individualism slyly masked as freedom. This is all demonstrated in what we have come to call the business-model church, a frame of mind and practice that is so prevalent in the churches across the United States that is nearly impossible for many to think outside of this box. We have all seen it: the prefabricated sanctuaries and the neutralized liturgy, ensuring the consistency and comfort of a Starbucks. Anything radical or challenging that might disturb the coziness of sub-urban bliss is over-taken by VBS campaigns and social outings. Even as you enter this holy super-market, you are greeted with long welcome-stations covered in glossy brochures, all advertising what the church has to offer in order to best serve your interests. All of this is to entice individuals to "join" the church (ultimately resulting in your "buy-in", that is, your energy and especially your money). The whole Sunday morning experience is an advertisement screaming out for your "investment": If you come to our church we will provide you with the loudest worship team in town; the most colorful children's program you can find; the cleanest conscience your tithing can buy. The result is a congregation made up of critical and demanding consumers, constantly threatening to take their business elsewhere if things get too sloppy, too edgy, too difficult to maintain their luke-warm lives. Isn't it Paul who said that, in Christ, there is free-market?

The Scottish philosopher, Adam Smith--possibly the most important proponent of capitalism--says that man cannot be motivated by a love for his fellow men, but only by his inclination to serve his own self-interest. So the church, under the spell of capitalism, does not appeal to our ability and calling to serve and love one another, but to our self-love. The average American does not go to church where they have the greatest opportunity to serve (i.e. the churches in neighborhoods that have the greatest need of their resources), but rather chooses the church that best reflects their interests. Bishop Zac said that this condition is a product of capitalistic consumerism, and it creates an individualistic church that, rather than forming a solid wall, becomes a useless pile of bricks. People choose the church that can serve as an extension of their self, making Americans even more narcissistic and self-seeking instead of what they are called to be by Jesus: "Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." This is a part of the good news that the business-model church will continually undermine. Its adoption of a capitalistic autonomy encourages us to seek ourselves in order to find life. Jesus preached about the kind of freedom that is found in losing yourself in the service of the Kingdom. It is in becoming like Christ--it is in serving others in need--that we break the enslaving, unquenchable devotion to our self-interest and find the profound freedom of the gospel. Thus, the best argument for capitalism--that it makes use of our self-centered nature--is the very thing that sets it in opposition to the work of the Kingdom of God and the gospel Jesus demonstrated. For the Kingdom seeks to eliminate this human inclination of self-seeking and to make us servants to all, dying to self daily.

The church has become a competitive contradiction. While businesses that operate in the capitalistic climate can say politely (but nevertheless misleadingly and problematically), "Don't take it personally, it's only business," the Church must always claim to act on a personal, human level. But the American Church, the body of Christ, models itself after this inhuman entity--this impersonal, cut-throat machine that sees "success" in terms of numbers, charts, projections, and quotas. The programs on the glossy brochures are not only to entice individuals, but to compete with the alternatives for the allegiance of these individuals. After all, in a business-model church, more people, no matter where they come from, means more income, more tithing, more stuff; it ensures better programs to better compete in this dog-eat-dog world of... well... loving Jesus and loving people. And here lies the contradiction. The more churches set themselves up with marketing schemes and flashy logos, the more they pit themselves against one another. Christ said that they will know us (the church) by the way we love one another... this is not possible in the competitive business mentality. That is why Jesus' model for church was a family, not a corporation: "Then [Jesus] looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, 'Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does God's will is my brother and sister and mother. '" This is why the early church continually referred to each other as brother and sister, to the point of criticism from outsiders; critics would say with disgust, "They indiscriminately refer to anyone among them as brother and sister." A church that sees growth as a bigger building with a bigger budget because it has a bigger congregation, will never be free to live as a family. A church cannot not claim growth because it draws in people with its competitive programs and attractive pastors with competitive salaries. Perhaps the first step towards growth should be to finally see the church as Jesus did--as a family made up of all those who do the will of God. This one change would grow our church to millions, with a congregation that wraps around the globe.

As for the validity of capitalism as an economic system, I will hold my tongue; but, as a paradigm from which the church addresses society--as a mode of evangelism, discipleship, and restoration--I must speak loudly in opposition. This path will only continue to devastate the already dying church in the West--it will continue to undermine the love, freedom, and community found in the gospel and it will continue to mock the life and teachings of Jesus.