July 6, 2025: Top 5 Things Jesus Never Said: "Money is the Root of All Evil" 1 Timothy 6:6 - 11

Top 5 Things Jesus Never Said: “Money is the Root of All Evil”

1 Timothy 6:6-11

Rev. Dr. Rhonda Abbott Blevins

July 6, 2025

Of course, there is great gain in godliness combined with contentment,  for we brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it,  but if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these.  But those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction.  For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains.  But as for you, man of God, shun all this; pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness.

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A mathematician, an accountant and an economist apply for the same job. The interviewer calls in the mathematician and asks, “What does two plus two equal?” The mathematician replies, “Four.” The interviewer asks, “Four, exactly?” The mathematician looks at the interviewer incredulously and says, “Yes, four, exactly.”

Then the interviewer calls in the accountant and asks the same question: “What does two plus two equal?” The accountant says, “On average, four— give or take ten percent, but on average, four.”

Then the interviewer calls in the economist and poses the same question: “What does two plus two equal?” The economist gets up, locks the door, closes the shade, sits down next to the interviewer and says, “What do you want it to equal?”

That economist’s approach—making the facts fit our desires—is exactly how we’ve treated one of the most misquoted verses in the Bible. We’ve all heard the phrase, “Money is the root of all evil.” It sounds biblical, feels true, and gives us a convenient answer to complex questions about wealth and poverty. But like that economist, we’ve made Scripture say what we want it to say rather than what it actually says.

Paul writes to Timothy: “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Timothy 6:10). Three crucial differences: it’s the love of money, not money itself; it’s a root, not the root; and it’s all kinds of evil, not all evil period.

This misquote matters because when we demonize money itself, we miss Paul’s real point. The problem isn’t the tool—it’s our relationship with the tool. Money is morally neutral; what matters is whether it owns us or we steward it.

Paul offers a better equation: “Godliness with contentment is great gain” (v. 6). Unlike that economist’s flexible math, this formula doesn’t change based on what we want it to equal. Let’s explore what this means for our personal lives as well as what it means for our life together.

As we apply Paul’s truth to our personal lives, Paul offers a simple diagnostic question: What are you pursuing? He contrasts two paths—on one hand, there are those who “want to get rich,” and on the other hand there are those who choose to “pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness” (vv. 9, 11). Don’t hear me say that wealth and faith are diametrically opposed—it’s all about where the heart is—where our attention is focused.

Think about your smartphone for a moment. It’s an incredibly useful tool—you can connect with people, access information, navigate unfamiliar places, see a picture of what someone ate for dinner. But think how many times you check it each day. Did you know that the average person looks at their phone 150 times daily? Or think about this: when the battery on your smart phone dies, do you feel anxious? When you leave it at home, do you turn around to get it?

Your phone was designed to serve you, but somewhere along the way, you might have started serving it. Money works exactly the same way. It’s a useful servant but a terrible master. The issue isn’t having money; it’s money having you.

There are many people in the Bible who were considered wealthy: Abraham was wealthy, Job was the richest man in his region, Lydia was a wealthy businesswoman who likely bankrolled much of Paul’s missionary work. God didn’t call them to poverty—God called them to proper priorities. The question isn’t whether you own a phone or have money in the bank. The question is: what owns you?

Here’s a test that reveals our true priorities—I call it the rearview mirror test. Talk to people at the end of their lives, ask them what they wish they’d pursued more of, and you’ll never hear “I wish I’d worked longer hours” or “I should have bought a bigger house.” Instead, you’ll hear about relationships they neglected, or time with family they can’t get back. A friend of mine who was a hospice chaplain for many years told me that many of the clients she had regretted experiences they didn’t pursue in life.

Our rearview mirror reveals what actually matters, but far too many of us spend way too much of our lives looking through the windshield at the next financial goal, the next big purchase, the next level of security we think we need.

The warning signs are clear: when money becomes our security instead of God, when we sacrifice relationships for riches, when we compromise our values for financial gain. Paul says such people “pierce themselves with many griefs” (v. 10). They might end up wealthy but spiritually wounded, rich but relationally poor.

Contentment, on the other hand, is being satisfied with “our daily bread,” like we pray each week in the Lord’s prayer. Or as Paul puts it in the letter to Timothy: “if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these.” (v. 8). This doesn’t mean settling for less. It means finding our identity and security in God rather than in our bank account. It means being grateful stewards rather than anxious hoarders.

I’ll never forget that time I was meeting with a wealthy man who had recently lost his wife to cancer. He was quite introspective that day, thinking about his life. He said, “Pastor, I’ve made a lot on money in my life. I have a big, beautiful house on the water. I have a top-of-the-line boat. I have luxury cars. I have a beach house. I used to think I have all these things. What I’ve come to realize is that all these things have me.”

The question for each of us isn’t “How much do I have?” but “How much does it have of me?”

Let’s shift from a personal application of this scripture to a collective or societal application.

Our misquote of this verse has profound societal consequences. When we say, “money is evil,” we create a false choice: either pursue wealth and feel guilty, or pursue poverty and feel morally superior. Neither reflects biblical wisdom, and both distort how we structure our communities and policies.

Think about how we measure success as a nation. We obsess over GDP, stock market performance, and unemployment rates—all important metrics, but incomplete ones. It’s like judging a person’s health solely by their weight while ignoring their blood pressure, mental state, and relationships. A society can be financially “healthy” while being spiritually, relationally, and morally bankrupt.

Paul’s vision is different. He calls Timothy to “fight the good fight of the faith” (v. 12)—not against money, but against the forces that make money an idol. This means challenging systems that value profit over people, that create massive inequality, that trap people in cycles of poverty or endless consumption.

Consider this: We live in a culture where a CEO can make 300 times what their average worker earns, where medical bankruptcy is a leading cause of financial ruin, where people work multiple jobs and still can’t afford basic housing. At the same time, we have more billionaires than ever before. This isn’t a money problem—it’s a love of money problem, played out on a massive scale.

A society pursuing “godliness with contentment” would ask different questions: Not just “How can we make more?” but “How can we share better?” Not just “What’s legal?” but “What’s loving?” Not just “What maximizes profit?” but “What promotes human flourishing?”

Coming off our Fourth of July weekend, perhaps you’ve been celebrating the many freedoms we enjoy here in the U.S. Freedom of religion is one of the great freedoms we enjoy, though some used to say that Christianity is the civil religion here in the U.S. I’m not sure that’s accurate anymore. My hot take is that capitalism is the civil religion in the U.S.—an economic system that values the almighty dollar over just about everything. An economic system that reflects biblical values should serve human dignity, not replace it. When money becomes the ultimate measure of a person’s worth, we lose our way as a society. We start treating education like a commodity, healthcare like a luxury, and basic human needs like market opportunities.

The societal question isn’t “Should we eliminate money?” but “How do we ensure money serves its proper purpose—facilitating human flourishing rather than replacing human values?”

Armed with these questions both for our personal lives as well as for how we do life together, let’s return to our scripture text. Remember Paul’s profound promise: “Godliness with contentment is great gain.” Not just some gain, or pretty good gain, but great gain.

What’s the gain? Freedom from the anxiety that comes with always wanting more. Peace that doesn’t fluctuate with the stock market. Relationships that aren’t transactional. The ability to be generous because our security comes from God, not our portfolio.

Money isn’t the root of all evil—but the love of money can root out everything good in our lives. The antidote isn’t poverty; it’s perspective. Not having less, but wanting what we have. Not avoiding money, but handling it with wisdom.

On this Independence Day weekend, let’s declare independence from the tyranny of “more.” Let’s pursue the great gain that comes not from accumulating wealth, but from contentment in the God who provides all we truly need.

The question isn’t whether money is evil—it’s whether our hearts are free. Is your heart free?