November 9th, 2026
by Todd Kaunitz
by Todd Kaunitz
There is a reason money is one of the most uncomfortable topics to sit with. It reaches past our budgets and bank accounts and grabs hold of something much deeper — our identity, our security, our sense of worth. And yet, if we are serious about following Jesus, we cannot afford to leave this area of our lives untouched. Because the truth is, money is not just a financial issue. It is a heart issue.
The Problem Goes Back Further Than You Think
The tension between the human heart and possessions is not a modern invention. It goes all the way back to the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve were given an entire world to enjoy, a paradise of abundance, with one single boundary. And that one thing off-limits became the one thing they could not stop wanting.
Nothing has changed. We are wired from birth with a gravitational pull toward more. You did not have to teach your children to say "mine." It came naturally. The desire to acquire, to accumulate, to secure — this is the human condition. And it is precisely why Scripture speaks to it so directly and so often.
Godliness With Contentment Is Great Gain
In 1 Timothy 6, the Apostle Paul writes to a young pastor named Timothy, laying out what a healthy church looks like. Alongside qualified leaders, a culture of prayer, and strong families, Paul devotes significant attention to how the people of God view and use money. This was not incidental. It was essential.
Paul addresses those who imagine that godliness is a means of financial gain — that following God is a transaction that leads to wealth. His response is striking. He does not simply reject the idea. He redirects it. Godliness is gain, he says, but only when it is accompanied by contentment. That is where the real treasure is found.
Contentment is not passive resignation. It is a deep, settled peace that comes from anchoring your identity in Christ rather than in circumstances. It is the ability to exhale — to genuinely feel, in the depths of your soul, that you lack nothing of eternal significance. It is the freedom that comes from knowing that if everything around you disappeared tomorrow, you would still be whole because you have him.
The Trap We Keep Falling Into
Paul warns that those who crave wealth fall into a snare. The imagery is vivid and intentional. Money entices. It calls your name. It promises satisfaction and delivers something far less. Studies consistently show that most people believe they would feel truly rich and content with just twenty percent more than they currently have. But the moment they reach that mark, the threshold moves. It is a rainbow you can never catch.
Marketing understands this perfectly. You are never shown the end of the story — the jeans at the garage sale, the golf clubs on eBay, the house that felt like a dream until you visited someone with a bigger one. The snare is baited with the promise of fulfillment, and we keep taking it.
Paul puts it plainly in 1 Timothy 6:10, where he describes the love of money as a root of all kinds of evil. Notice the precision there. It is not money itself, but the love of it. The craving. The obsession. And the wound it inflicts, he says, is self-inflicted. People who once walked faithfully with God have wandered — not necessarily into outright unbelief, but into unfaithfulness. The boat, the promotion, the travel schedule quietly replaced what once anchored their lives.
Three Commands for Those Who Have
Paul turns his attention to those who are rich in this present age. And here is where we need to be honest with ourselves. By global standards, the vast majority of us qualify. A household income of $45,000 or more places you in the top five percent of wage earners in the world. We have closets with more clothes than hangers. We throw out leftovers to make room for new leftovers. We have problems that only wealthy people have.
So Paul's commands are for us.
First, do not be proud about what you have. Everything you possess came from God. Your intelligence, your strength, your opportunities, the country you were born into, the people whose paths crossed yours at just the right moment — none of it originated with you. And none of it goes with you when you leave. Pride over possessions is pride over borrowed goods.
Second, do not place your hope in money. Paul calls riches uncertain, and for good reason. Markets crash. Businesses fail. Even when wealth stays, it cannot satisfy. There is a documentary called Broke that chronicles professional athletes who earned hundreds of millions of dollars and ended up with nothing. Money is a terrible place to build your security because it was never designed to hold that weight.
Third, live generously. This is the antidote to greed, and it is rooted not in obligation but in the gospel itself. Jesus, who is first in all things, loved first, gave first, and gave best. He stepped out of glory, took on flesh, lived the life we could not live, and died the death we deserved. That is generosity in its purest form. When we understand what we have received, the natural response is open hands.
Sending Treasure Ahead
Here is a remarkable truth from 1 Timothy 6:19 — when we give generously toward God's work, we are storing up treasure in a place that cannot be taken from us. You cannot carry anything out of this world when you leave. But you can send things ahead. Every act of faithful, joyful generosity is an investment in what lasts forever.
The question worth sitting with this week is not whether you can afford to be generous. The question is whether you can afford not to be. Because the better treasure is not found in accumulating more. It is found in releasing your grip, trusting the one who provides all things, and discovering the contentment that the world, with all its promises, has never been able to deliver.
The Problem Goes Back Further Than You Think
The tension between the human heart and possessions is not a modern invention. It goes all the way back to the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve were given an entire world to enjoy, a paradise of abundance, with one single boundary. And that one thing off-limits became the one thing they could not stop wanting.
Nothing has changed. We are wired from birth with a gravitational pull toward more. You did not have to teach your children to say "mine." It came naturally. The desire to acquire, to accumulate, to secure — this is the human condition. And it is precisely why Scripture speaks to it so directly and so often.
Godliness With Contentment Is Great Gain
In 1 Timothy 6, the Apostle Paul writes to a young pastor named Timothy, laying out what a healthy church looks like. Alongside qualified leaders, a culture of prayer, and strong families, Paul devotes significant attention to how the people of God view and use money. This was not incidental. It was essential.
Paul addresses those who imagine that godliness is a means of financial gain — that following God is a transaction that leads to wealth. His response is striking. He does not simply reject the idea. He redirects it. Godliness is gain, he says, but only when it is accompanied by contentment. That is where the real treasure is found.
Contentment is not passive resignation. It is a deep, settled peace that comes from anchoring your identity in Christ rather than in circumstances. It is the ability to exhale — to genuinely feel, in the depths of your soul, that you lack nothing of eternal significance. It is the freedom that comes from knowing that if everything around you disappeared tomorrow, you would still be whole because you have him.
The Trap We Keep Falling Into
Paul warns that those who crave wealth fall into a snare. The imagery is vivid and intentional. Money entices. It calls your name. It promises satisfaction and delivers something far less. Studies consistently show that most people believe they would feel truly rich and content with just twenty percent more than they currently have. But the moment they reach that mark, the threshold moves. It is a rainbow you can never catch.
Marketing understands this perfectly. You are never shown the end of the story — the jeans at the garage sale, the golf clubs on eBay, the house that felt like a dream until you visited someone with a bigger one. The snare is baited with the promise of fulfillment, and we keep taking it.
Paul puts it plainly in 1 Timothy 6:10, where he describes the love of money as a root of all kinds of evil. Notice the precision there. It is not money itself, but the love of it. The craving. The obsession. And the wound it inflicts, he says, is self-inflicted. People who once walked faithfully with God have wandered — not necessarily into outright unbelief, but into unfaithfulness. The boat, the promotion, the travel schedule quietly replaced what once anchored their lives.
Three Commands for Those Who Have
Paul turns his attention to those who are rich in this present age. And here is where we need to be honest with ourselves. By global standards, the vast majority of us qualify. A household income of $45,000 or more places you in the top five percent of wage earners in the world. We have closets with more clothes than hangers. We throw out leftovers to make room for new leftovers. We have problems that only wealthy people have.
So Paul's commands are for us.
First, do not be proud about what you have. Everything you possess came from God. Your intelligence, your strength, your opportunities, the country you were born into, the people whose paths crossed yours at just the right moment — none of it originated with you. And none of it goes with you when you leave. Pride over possessions is pride over borrowed goods.
Second, do not place your hope in money. Paul calls riches uncertain, and for good reason. Markets crash. Businesses fail. Even when wealth stays, it cannot satisfy. There is a documentary called Broke that chronicles professional athletes who earned hundreds of millions of dollars and ended up with nothing. Money is a terrible place to build your security because it was never designed to hold that weight.
Third, live generously. This is the antidote to greed, and it is rooted not in obligation but in the gospel itself. Jesus, who is first in all things, loved first, gave first, and gave best. He stepped out of glory, took on flesh, lived the life we could not live, and died the death we deserved. That is generosity in its purest form. When we understand what we have received, the natural response is open hands.
Sending Treasure Ahead
Here is a remarkable truth from 1 Timothy 6:19 — when we give generously toward God's work, we are storing up treasure in a place that cannot be taken from us. You cannot carry anything out of this world when you leave. But you can send things ahead. Every act of faithful, joyful generosity is an investment in what lasts forever.
The question worth sitting with this week is not whether you can afford to be generous. The question is whether you can afford not to be. Because the better treasure is not found in accumulating more. It is found in releasing your grip, trusting the one who provides all things, and discovering the contentment that the world, with all its promises, has never been able to deliver.
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