On Wealth and Poverty
-St. Basil the Great
Wells, when drawn from, yield more abundant streams; so too, hoarding wealth is fruitless, while its movement and distribution are beneficial to all and fruitful. Yet I am astonished that, after devising countless and useless expenses, when wealth remains abundant even beyond its division into innumerable uses, the rich man buries it in the earth and hides it in secret places. Alas! Even after inventing endless ways to spend it, he still cannot exhaust it and so conceals it in the ground. It seems to me that his soul’s passion is like that of gluttons, who would rather burst from overeating than give their leftovers to the needy. Such was the rich man in the Gospel: already his soul was being demanded, yet he discoursed with himself about provisions. That very night, he was taken from this world, though he had planned enjoyment for his soul for many years to come. It is utter folly to seek gold in the earth when it was already in his coffers, and having found it, to bury it again. Moreover, in my view, when you bury your wealth, you also bury your heart with it: for it is written, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Matt. 6:21). Therefore, O rich man, distribute your wealth in various ways; do not be stingy in giving, nor overly absorbed in your own needs, nor wait for a scarcity of grain. Open your storehouses, lest you hoard gold at the cost of famine and cause public calamity for the sake of increasing your possessions. Do not be a profiteer of human misfortunes; do not make God’s wrath an occasion to multiply your wealth. You gaze upon gold but do not see your brother; you recognize the markings on coins and distinguish true from counterfeit, yet you do not recognize your brother in need. The luster of gold delights you, but you do not consider how much sighing from the poor follows you.
“Who,” you say, “do I wrong by keeping and guarding what is mine?” Tell me, what is yours? From where did you bring it into this life? It is as if someone, coming to a theater for all to see, then forbade others to enter, claiming for himself what is offered for the common use of all. So it is with the rich: seizing common goods first, they claim them as their own by priority. If each person used their wealth only to meet their own needs, leaving the surplus for the needy, no one would be rich, and no one would be poor. Did you not come naked from the womb? Will you not return naked to the earth? (Job 1:21). Whence, then, comes what you now possess? If you say it is by chance, you are godless, neither acknowledging the Creator nor giving thanks to the Giver. But if you confess it comes from God, tell us the reason why you received it all. Is God unjust, dividing the things of this life unequally? Why are you rich while another is poor? Is it not so that you may receive the reward of goodness and faithful stewardship, while he is honored with great rewards for his patience? But you say, “I need wealth for my children”—this is a precise excuse for greed. By putting forth your children, you are, in truth, filling your own heart. Do not blame your innocent child; he has his own Lord and Ruler. From another he received life, and from that same one he awaits the means to live. Is it not written in the Gospel for those who aspire to perfection: “If thou wilt be perfect, sell that thou hast, and give to the poor” (Matt. 19:21)? When you prayed to the Lord for children, when you asked to be a father to them, did you add this: “Give me children, that I may disobey Thy commandments”? “Give me children, that I may not enter the kingdom of heaven”? Who will vouch for your children’s choices, that they will use what is given to them worthily? For to many, wealth has led to intemperance. Take heed, then, lest the wealth you gathered with great toil becomes the material of sin for others, and you find yourself doubly punished: for your own sins and for leading another to sin. Children, receiving nothing from their parents, have often built their own homes; but a soul, abandoned by you, who will have mercy on it? Why, then, do you desire so much gold?
Who, among those who love adornment, has ever added a single day to their life? Whom has death spared for the sake of wealth? Whom has sickness relented for the sake of money? How long will gold be a strangler of souls, a deadly hook, the food of sin? How long will wealth be the cause of strife, for which weapons are forged and swords sharpened? For wealth, kin deny their natural bonds, brothers look upon each other with murderous eyes; for wealth, deserts harbor murderers, seas nurture pirates, and cities breed slanderers. Who is the father of lies? Who is the author of treacherous accusations? Who is the parent of oath-breaking? Is it not wealth and the striving for it? What are you doing, O men? Who has turned what is yours into your vanity? Possessions are given for the necessities of life, not as a means to evil deeds; for the salvation of the soul, not for its destruction. For when wealth becomes a pathway to injustice, the rich man is wretched; but when it serves virtue, there is no room for envy, since its benefit is shared by all. In my view, when you have no wealth, you should not desire it; and when you have it, do not exalt yourself by its possession, but by the wisdom of its use. Socrates spoke well when a certain rich man boasted of his treasures, saying that he would not esteem him until he knew for certain that he could use them wisely. Wealth and health often become causes of sin for those who misuse them; but poverty, joined with truth, is more precious to the wise than any wealth.
Yet none of us considers this. The lover of money, seeing a man on his knees, pleading at his feet and doing all that humility allows to beg for a loan to relieve his poverty, does not pity the innocent sufferer. Instead, he stands unmoved and unyielding, swearing and vowing that he truly has no money, claiming he himself seeks someone from whom to borrow. He confirms his lie with an oath, adding perjury to the cruel bargain of inhumanity. But if the beggar mentions interest or speaks only of a pledge, the rich man lowers his eyes slightly, smiles, and recalls that the beggar’s father was his friend and favorite. “Let us see,” he says, “if there is some forgotten silver lying about, which, I recall, someone entrusted to me to lend at interest.” Though he sets a heavy interest rate, he says, “We will lighten it somewhat and charge less.” With such words, flattering and deceiving the poor man, he binds him in writing and, beyond the poverty already burdening him, takes away his freedom as well. What are you doing, O poor man, seeking money and profit from one who has none? If he could make you rich, why would he stand at your door? O calamity! Coming to find help, he finds an enemy; seeking healing, he receives poison. Where you should have comforted a man’s poverty, you double his misery, desiring to take even his last possessions. It is as if a physician, entering to the sick, instead of restoring their health, took away the little strength they had left. So too, you cause misfortune to the poor with your greedy profits. Just as farmers pray to God for rain to increase their crops, so you seek human poverty and scarcity to make your money more profitable.
The usurer finds himself in a state of perplexity: when he looks at poverty, he despairs of repayment; when he considers immediate need, he boldly demands interest. But as money is gradually spent and the time for repayment approaches with its interest, he has no rest at night, the day is not bright for him, the sun is not fair, and he grows weary of his own life, hating the days that draw near the deadline. When he sleeps, he sees the creditor standing at his bedside; when awake, he thinks and worries about interest. To the one seeking interest, it must be said: “Drink waters from thine own cistern” (Prov. 5:15), that is, do not go to others’ wells, but draw from your own resources for your livelihood. Do you have copper, garments, cattle, or various vessels? Sell them all. It is better to lose everything than to lose your freedom. “But I am ashamed,” someone may say, “to make this public.” Is it better, then, for another to announce it to all and sell your possessions for the lowest price before your very eyes? Do not go to others’ doors: “for a strange well is truly narrow” (Prov. 23:27). Better to meet your needs little by little through labor and skill than to rise suddenly with another’s wealth and, in the end, lose all you have. If you have the means to pay, why not avert your present poverty with this aid? If you do not repay, you add evil to evil. Though you are poor now, you are free. By borrowing, you will not grow rich but will lose your freedom. The debtor becomes a slave to the lender, a hired servant enduring unending toil. Dogs, when fed, are tamed; but the lender, receiving payment, grows angry, never ceasing to bark, demanding more, disbelieving your oaths, inspecting even the inner rooms of your house, and inquiring about your income. As soon as you step out of your house, he drags you to himself and insults you; if you hide within, he stands in your courtyard, knocking at your door, shaming you before your wife, reproaching you before your friends, and on the marketplace, he does not let you speak a word. Even on a feast day, he brings the same evil, troubling your life. Someone may say, “The need is great, and there is no other way to get money.” What benefit is it that he gave you a loan for only one day? Borrowing does not bring full freedom but only a brief respite from poverty. Endure the hardship of poverty now, and do not defer it to tomorrow, for without borrowing, you will be as poor tomorrow as today; but by borrowing, you will suffer greater torment from growing interest. Now, no one condemns you for your poverty, for it is an involuntary evil. But if you are guilty of usury, there is no one who will not despise your folly. Consider before you repay: from what income? Your earnings are insufficient even for your needs, let alone for repayment. If you add interest, how will your money multiply so greatly? A wound is never healed by another wound, nor is evil corrected by evil. You say, “How shall I sustain myself?” You have hands, you have skills; hire yourself out, serve. There are many trades and ways to live. Are you weak? Seek help from those who have. If you are ashamed to ask, it is far more shameful to borrow and not repay. The ant, neither begging nor borrowing, sustains itself; the bee, with the surplus of its food, offers gifts to kings, though nature gave it neither hands nor skills. You, a rational creature, a human, cannot find even one trade among all crafts to sustain your life?
Are you rich? Do not lend your silver at usury. Are you poor? Do not borrow. For if you abound, you have no need of a loan; but if you have nothing, you cannot repay the debt. Do not deliver your life to regret. We who are poor differ from the rich in this one thing: our freedom from care. We laugh at those who, lacking peace and constantly grieving, are weighed down, while we ourselves remain untroubled and at ease. But he who borrows is both poor and, at the same time, in great distress: he is always lost in thoughts, sometimes valuing his possessions, sometimes envying the splendid houses, rich fields, and garments of others he encounters. If all this were mine, he says to himself, I would sell it for such a price and free myself from debt. These same thoughts occupy his heart by night, and by day they consume his mind. If someone knocks at the door, the debtor hides beneath the bed. If someone enters quickly, his heart trembles. Does a dog bark in the yard? He breaks into a sweat, tormented by anguish, looking for a place to flee. When the time of repayment comes, he schemes how to lie or flatter the lender with false excuses. Why do you yoke yourself to a beast that multiplies endlessly? They say that hares give birth, nurse, and conceive all at once; so too, the money of usurers is lent, grows, and breeds, for even before you have taken it in hand, this month’s payment is demanded of you. This, in turn, breeds another debt, and that another, and so it becomes an endless cycle of evil. For this reason, usury has earned its name, for “usury” (τόκος, meaning “birth”) is so called, I think, because of its wicked prolificacy—or perhaps because of the pains and sorrows it causes the souls of those who borrow. For just as labor pains afflict a woman giving birth, so the deadline looms over the debtor. Usury upon usury, the evil offspring of evil parents. It is said that vipers gnaw through their mother’s womb to be born; so too, usury devours the houses of debtors to come into being. Crops sprout in their season, and animals give birth in their time, but usury is born now and begins to breed at once. Every plant, when it reaches its full height, ceases to grow; but the silver of usurers grows forever. Animals, having passed on the ability to reproduce to their offspring, cease to bear; but the money of lenders both produces new gains and renews the original sum. Just as those suffering from cholera expel their first meal and, before fully cleansed, take in another only to vomit it with pain and torment, so too do these, exchanging usury for usury, borrow again before clearing their first debts. For a short time, they puff themselves up with what belongs to another, only to weep later over their own loss. Yet you may say, many have grown rich through borrowing; but I think far more have destroyed themselves. You do not count those who, unable to bear the shame of creditors’ demands, have chosen death by strangulation over a life of disgrace. I have seen a pitiable sight: freeborn children dragged to the market for their fathers’ debts. You cannot leave wealth to your children? At the very least, do not strip them of their nobility. Preserve for them this one inheritance, the pledge of freedom you received from your parents. No one is condemned for a father’s poverty, but a father’s debt drags one to prison. Do not leave behind a written bond, like a curse upon your children, which passes to their children and grandchildren.
Wealth, says the Prophet David, “if it floweth, set not thine heart upon it” (Ps. 61:11). Marvel at this saying: “if it floweth.” Wealth is fleeting: it passes through its owners more swiftly than a stream, often changing hands. Like a river rushing from a high place toward those standing on the bank, it approaches but, touching the shore, retreats at once. So too, deceptive wealth has a brief and sorrowful existence, passing quickly from one to another. Today a field belongs to this man, tomorrow to another, and soon after to yet another. Look at the houses in the city: how many times have they changed names since their beginning, taking a new one with each owner. Even gold ceaselessly passes from the hands of its owner to another, and from that one to yet another. It is easier to hold scooped water in your hand than to keep wealth. Therefore, do not envy the excessively rich, nor consider their life blessed. Even if wealth flows to you from inexhaustible springs, do not set your desire upon it. Yet poverty is not always praiseworthy, only that which comes by choice, in harmony with the Gospel. For many are poor in means but greedy in desire, and their poverty does not save them, but their desire condemns them. Wealth and glory, since they cannot make a man blessed, are not good by nature; but because they bring some measure of happiness in this life, they are more desirable than their opposites, poverty and dishonor. To some, they are given by God for distribution, as to Abraham, Jacob, and the like, but to the wicked, they are a spur to reform. Thus, if one persists in wickedness despite God pouring out such blessings, he condemns himself without excuse. But the righteous man neither loves wealth excessively when he has it, nor seeks it when he lacks it, for he considers it entrusted not for his enjoyment but for distribution. A prudent man takes on the duty of distributing what belongs to others, mindful of the people who are often astonished and imitate those entrusted with some authority. If we learned to despise all bodily things, no human possession could amaze us. For what need have we of wealth, we who shun bodily desires? I see no use, unless we take pleasure in burying our treasures like the dragons of fables, guarding them.
Thus, the primary and worthy duty of a Christian is to purify his soul from all passions that deface it. Then, one striving for God and a higher life must forsake all wealth, since care and concern for earthly things breed distraction in the soul. When many strive together toward the same goal of salvation, adopting a common and mutual life, they must hold it as their first duty to have one heart, one will, one desire, and, as the Apostle commands, to be one body composed of different members. This can only be so if nothing is claimed as one’s own—neither clothes, nor vessels, nor anything else useful in common life—but each thing is used for need, not for possession. Just as a small garment is unfit for a large body, or a large one for a small, but what is proportionate is useful and fitting, so too all other things—bed, warm clothing, shoes—should belong to the one who needs them, not to an owner. As medicine is used by the wounded, not the healthy, so too the things devised for the body’s aid should rightly be used by those in need, not by the indulgent, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and power forever and ever, amen.