Last summer, Trent Horn (of Catholic Answers) and Jacob Imam (of New Polity) debated a question which many viewers had not even realized was up for debate: “is it generally immoral to invest in 401ks for retirement?”
Dr. Jacob Imam said “yes,” arguing that the buying and selling of shares on the Stock Market is an objectively immoral act. Around 40% of Americans invest in 401ks—which provide retirement funds through long-term, diversified stock portfolios—and the practice is about as widely accepted among Catholics as it is among secular citizens. Given the grave importance of this debate to the Church in the United States, I want to respond to Mr. Horn’s many objections in defense of 401ks. First, however, we must define our terms.
The fool says in his heart, “Buy low, sell high!”
Everything hinges on the crucial definition and condemnation of the sin of speculation. In brief, speculation is “buying low and selling high,” or more precisely, buying and selling to make a profit without contributing work to a product. If I purchase a milk cow from a poor farmer, who in his desperation to make his rent sells it for $1,000, and then I (who have no fear of an eviction deadline) easily find someone to buy it for $2,000, I am sinning. I have speculated on the farmer’s fear which drives him to make a bad deal, against the rule do to others as you would have them do to you (Luke 6:31). If I see a town in which in which many successful businesses are cropping up, buy a piece of land there for $10,000, contribute nothing to the property, and manage to sell it a year later for $40,000, then I have committed the sin of speculation. This time it is by speculating on the prosperity of the town. I have made my money illegally (in God’s eyes) by the labor done by others, in violation of the command that if anyone is unwilling to work, that one shall not eat (2 Thess 3:10).
We find speculation condemned throughout the Church’s history. The Scriptural mandate, cited above, is that the Golden Rule should be the basis for all economic exchange and that making profits must correspond to honest work. This is safeguarded from the enemy’s temptations by the rejection of what we today call “economics scarcity” and “the profit motive”: Let your life be free from love of money but be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never forsake you or abandon you” (Hebrews 13:5). Like other Church Fathers, St. Augustine clearly states that this desire to maximize profit is not natural, but sinful: “[many people] thought that all men are inclined to wish to buy low and sell high. But since in reality this is wicked, it is in every man’s power to acquire the contrary virtue [i.e. liberality]… whereby he may resist and overcome this inclination.” (On the Trinity XIII.3, my translation). St. Thomas Aquinas quotes this passage in his Summa II-II Q78, which explains the immorality of “selling a thing for more than it is worth.” The Common Doctor argues that we must always seek to buy and sell for a “just price”:
Therefore if either the price exceed the quantity of the thing’s worth, or, conversely, the thing exceed the price, there is no longer the equality of justice: and consequently, to sell a thing for more than its worth, or to buy it for less than its worth, is in itself unjust and unlawful. (A1. Co.)
This teaching is touched upon again in modern times in St. John Paul II’s Centesimus Annus, which condemns “the spread of improper sources of growing rich and of easy profits deriving from illegal or purely speculative [simpliciter speculativis] activities” (§ 48 ⁋ 1). This is based on the principle of the priority of labor over capital (cf. Laborem Exercens § 14). Wealth comes from man’s work, which is the reason for private property. Therefore, ownership “becomes illegitimate, however, when it is not utilized or when it serves to impede the work of others, in an effort to gain a profit which is not the result of the overall expansion of work and the wealth of society, but rather is the result of curbing them or of illicit exploitation, speculation [ex quaestibus faciendis], or the breaking of solidarity among working people. Ownership of this kind has no justification, and represents an abuse in the sight of God and man” (§ 43 ⁋ 3).
This clear and simple definition of speculation (much like usury) is unfamiliar to Christians today because of our modern tendency to say that any and all forms of economic activity are right and just, so long as they are not done to an extreme and/or with an excessive, interior affection for money. We are comfortable saying that “extreme” speculation on “risky bets” or “price gouging” is immoral, but that “normal” buying low and selling high (without improving the product) is acceptable. Through a close and critical reading of these authorities (and others), Dr. Imam shows that this is simply not true according to the Christian tradition.
The Golden Calf; or, the Bear and the Bull
Speculation may be a sin, but is buying shares on the stock market always done speculatively? This requires an understanding of what the Stock Market is, which Dr. Imam and Dr. Barnes have explored in the pages of New Polity (Issue 3.1, 27-42). The Stock Market is not a natural, God-given reality; indeed, in the lifetime of humanity and the Church, it is not even that old! In the Middle Ages, “big” businesses were organized as a societas, between a stans (investor) and a tractor (merchant). A societas was a temporary partnership (due to its limited purpose of a particular venture) between actively involved individuals with a personal relationship. However, after a few centuries of developing speculative arrangements—throughout the chaos of the late medieval and Reformation eras—the first public stock exchange began in 1602 with publicly traded “shares” in the Dutch East India Company.
The earlier examples—speculating on a cow or a house—are individual sinful acts. A just man could buy and sell the very same house or cow for an honest price. But the Stock Market introduced something different. The modern corporation (unlike the societas described by St. Thomas) is not temporary and limited, but eternal and boundless. Most importantly, the “stocks” of a publicly listed company have no intrinsic relationship to the work and wealth of that company. As their analysis goes on to explain:
The owners of a company have an executive control of its operations and a legal right to the profits it produces. When a company “goes public,” its original owners surrender both of these, in a legal move (appropriately) called a “public offering.” [...] The transformation is subtle, but profound: the immediate purpose of a company is no longer fulfilled in the goods it produces and the profits it earns except insofar as those goods and profits increase the capacity of stockholders to sell their stock to another person for more than they paid for it. If, for instance, the board of directors determined that this ability to maximize the future sale of their investment would be better served by a bakery ceasing to bake, and beginning to produce, say, plastic wrap—it could and would be done; Facebook could become Meta. “Going public” unties a company from any particular purpose outside of the production of a higher stock price (page 30).
This line of argument does not claim that investing in the Stock Market is wrong because it is a often done sinfully or because it is an occasion of sin, but that it is an intrinsically disordered act, which violates the ethics of moral investing in a similar way that contraception violates the ethics of moral love-making. What we exchange, when we trade stocks, is not a little sliver of genuine ownership of Amazon, Tesla, or Berkshire Hathaway; we are not buying and selling legal and moral claims to property, but a man-made and purely fictitious symbol of confidence in a company’s ability to produce infinite profits and products. This is, of course, an absurd, and even idolatrous, belief. But even if we don’t have a fully child-like faith in Mammon, we are content to play his game, trusting that we can cash out and enjoy some enviable wealth-without-work when we pass off the stock to the next sucker.
If the Stock Market is a novelty in world history, much more so is the 401k. These began with the Revenue Act of 1978, which amended the federal tax system. Simply put, 401k’s become the state-sponsored method (due to significant tax breaks) of saving for retirement through mutual funds, that is, buying a little bit of everything in the Stock Market. One company may flounder and another dominate, but everyone with diversified assets will retire with a little sliver of exponential market growth in their pocket… as long as the Stock Market continues growing, now and forever, world without end.
The Fathers Know Best
How does Mr. Horn refute this argument? He makes no effort to say that 401ks involve personal, productive labor (in the way described by Laborem Exercens) nor does he deny that 401ks make their money by “buying low and selling high.” Rather, he simply denies that speculation, traditionally defined, is a sin. He repeatedly insisted that “speculation” exclusively refers to extreme cases, such as illegal “pump and dump” schemes.
How could it be that what was once fiercely condemned by Fathers of the Church is now not only permitted, but promoted as prudent? It is very strange that Catholic Answers (for which Mr. Horn is a leading apologist and speaker) has produced entire series of tracts, pamphlets, and articles (entitled “The Fathers Know Best”) which show how the early Church Fathers provide ancient support for controversial modern teachings on the sacraments, abortion, and homosexuality, but on this topic Mr. Horn took a very different tone in his closing statement: “We have to remember that the Fathers of the Church often had rigorous moral views and that morality develops over time.” (All the quotes that follow, unless otherwise attributed, are taken from the debate.)
It is true that almost every Church Father taught mistakenly on at least one particular subject. This is why the Scholastics of the Middle Ages worked carefully to examine the conflicts and agreements of the Fathers, to debate the Truth, and to seek clarity from the Magisterium when needed. It is also true that doctrine, both theological and ethical, develops over time, but this development always takes the form of establishing a more nuanced articulation of existing doctrines or a distinction between doctrines and theological opinions. This development never takes the form of dismissing, overturning, or denying a former doctrine. Every true teaching can and must be traced through the history of the Church until it rests on the solid rock of Jesus Christ and the Holy Scriptures.
Mr. Horn made no effort to trace the doctrine of righteous speculation through the Medievals and the Fathers. Rather, he dismisses “medieval just price theory, which itself has fallen out of fashion and the Church does not teach.” He likewise states that the condemnation of usury has also changed because “we’ve developed in our understanding as economies and markets changed.” But are these an example of the Magisterial Church deepening its knowledge of the Truth throughout history, or an example of the earthly Church falling into the worldly wisdom of structures of sin? Mr. Horn briefly cites Neuhaus (a recent proponent of Catholicism’s compatibility with liberal capitalism) and the (16th century) School of Salamanca, but he can produce nothing from the modern Magisterium that overturns the Scholastic-Patristic teaching on speculation, usury, and just price. Many distributists have pointed out that modern capitalist Catholics have studied the School of Salamanca very little for how often they reference it. And, in the words of Thomas Storck, “even if it were the case that these writers [of Salamanca] held the proto-libertarian ideas sometimes attributed to them, they would still be merely a group of private theologians, whose opinions count for nothing whenever they are opposed to the papal social magisterium.”
Roma Locuta…
So what do the Popes say? At the turn of the 20th century, Pope Leo XIII authored both Rerum Novarum (the ‘first’ social encyclical) and Aeterni Patris, which called for a renewal of Thomistic philosophy. The Common Doctor is the primary theologian referenced in the many economic encyclicals which followed. Did this shift in the midcentury? Certainly, but not in Mr. Horn’s favor. The Second Vatican Council emphasized ressourcement theology, which called for a return to both the Scriptures and the (“rigorous”) Church Fathers. Dr. Imam notes how St. John Paul II’s encyclicals use both distinct Latin language (which references Scholastic definitions of speculation) and apply an all-encompassing Christological framework (a Patristic method) which leaves no place for “neutral” investing and money-making. As Pope Benedict XVI explained: “The Church's social doctrine has always maintained that justice must be applied to every phase of economic activity, because this is always concerned with man and his needs… Thus every economic decision has a moral consequence” (Caritas in Veritate § 37, emphasis original). Every attempt to make a profit must be good or evil, an act of honest labor or a form of exploitation and theft. “He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters” (Matthew 12:30).
This brings us to Dr. Imam’s second line of argument, which is more “positive” than the first. He argues that while investing in the Stock Market is an objectively evil act, and so must be rejected, there is also a Christian way of investing, which must be taken up by anyone who intends to invest. The Gospel, after all, is not just a list of “Thou Shalt Not’s,” but a guide to acting in perfect love, being “perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Matthew 5:48). Christ’s call to perfection encompasses the entirety of our lives, and this includes our money. The virtue that guides the investment of money is beneficience, meaning to “do good” (bene - facere). Though the pagan world judges the “success” of investment according to the profits they make, this cannot be the primary way that Christians judge their investment (Centesimus Annus § 35 ⁋ 3). Instead, we must ask: how is this investment changing the world for the better? That is, how is it building up the Kingdom of Heaven? St. John Paul II states that “the decision to invest in one place rather than another, in one productive sector rather than another, is always a moral and cultural choice…” and that the attitudes which guide investments “reveal the human quality of the person making such decisions” (Centesimus Annus § 36 ⁋ 4, emphasis original). Pope Benedict XVI repeats this teaching, saying:
Efforts are needed—and it is essential to say this—not only to create “ethical” sectors or segments of the economy or the world of finance, but to ensure that the whole economy—the whole of finance—is ethical, not merely by virtue of an external label, but by its respect for requirements intrinsic to its very nature. The Church's social teaching is quite clear on the subject, recalling that the economy, in all its branches, constitutes a sector of human activity. (Caritas in Veritate § 45 ⁋ 2)
Belong Not to the World
This time, instead of outright denying the papal teaching, Mr. Horn looks to a loophole. He points to the magisterial teaching on cooperation with evil, which can be both formal or material, and remote or proximate. Formal cooperation is a desire to cooperate with evil, which is always wrong. Material cooperation is physically cooperating without mentally cooperating, which is still immoral in proximate (“direct”), but not in remote (“indirect”), situations. Mr. Horn gives the example that it is always immoral to hand the forceps to a doctor about to dismember a baby in-utero (even if you disagreed intellectually with what the doctor was doing), but that it can be moral to work as a landscaper who is hired to cut the lawn at Planned Parenthood.
This description of the teaching on cooperation with evil is roughly accurate and, at a glance, this seems to apply to investing in evil companies. I may not agree with everything Wal-Mart does, but I need to provide for my family’s future, so I can regrettably choose to be indirectly associated with the executive decisions to profit on the underpaid labor of Malaysian textile workers—though if I were in the board room, I would have to speak out against this injustice.
This objection, however, rests on a confusion about what investment is. First, as Dr. Imam points out, remote material cooperation is only justified by cases of necessity. If working for a corporation which does evil things is the only way that we can survive or care for our families, it is permissible. But employment is not the same as investment; we can only invest our surplus income and so the argument of dire necessity does not apply. Second, when we choose remote material cooperation with evil, we must train our minds to recognize the tragedy of our situation, by praying in penance for the sins committed and asking God to be liberated from the structure of sin which oppresses us. (The Apostle says that “if you can gain your freedom, avail yourself of the opportunity” [1 Corinthians 7:21]). This fierce aversion to even participating in evil is what St. Thomas calls the “preparedness of mind” to practice every act of virtue (even martyrdom!) regardless of the worldly circumstances that limit us (the Latin phrase is praeparationem animi, e.g. Summa II-II Q124 A1 Ad. 3).
This brings to a head a critical confusion of Mr. Horn’s worldview, the contradictions of which we can find within one lengthy quotation. In his final Q&A response, he says,
…in general, go and look at the standard index funds, and look at the companies: they engage, by and large, in things that promote the common good. They have trucks that ship the meat to our stores so that we can buy food. They develop medicines and vaccines, things that help to keep us healthy. They create semi-conductor chips and mine for cobalt and things so we can have computers and Pints with Aquinas and phones. And you can go on Youtube and watch New Polity. When you look at these companies, in general, they promote the common good.
Even if Mr. Horn were right on this point, it does nothing to address the sin the speculation. And we are forced to ask, if he is correct that there is nothing inherently wrong with the Stock Market: is this really the common good? Does man truly live on bread (and Youtube) alone? Look at the world humanity has made: what do the fruits of the Market say about the tree which put them forth?
Here at New Polity, we have offered an extensive Christian analysis of the acclaimed “miracles” of modernity, such as Amazon’s delivery system, Google’s search engine, Facebook’s virtual reality, Twitter’s “public square.” We have evaluated whether technological innovations—like automated work, the insurance and consulting industries, the military-industrial complex, drones, smartphones, and both cryptocurrencies and floating currencies—are building up the City of God. And we have published a detailed report on how the so-called “moral investing” of several Catholic mutual funds lines up with Catholic Social Teaching. Strangely enough, Mr. Horn seems to explicitly acknowledge these evils. Continuing directly from the above quoted, he says:
Are they perfect? No! But remember when you buy a cell phone, [because of] the rare earth metals in here, you are part of a chain of supply that ends with slave labor in China or the Congo. But, as I said at the beginning of the debate, we live in an evil world, so we’re gonna remotely and materially participate with evil, the question we have to ask is do we have a proportionate reason to do so.
So which is it? Do we live in a pagan society or a mostly Christian one? Are our days, our rulers, and our ways of living generally evil or generally good? Are the sins of international corporations—incidents of slave labor, environmental damage, technocratic dehumanization, the murder of the unborn, and the profitable promotion of greed, lust, envy, and anger—rare exceptions or business as usual? All lay Christians—especially those who have been signed up to profitably speculate on the shares of these corporations—are forced by the structures of modern society to answer this question. Does our economy serve the common good or private gain? Do our financial overlords work for God or for Mammon? There can be no lasting agnosticism if we are to live the Gospel through our working, saving, spending, investing, lending, and almsgiving. If Pope John Paul II’s magisterial teaching is correct, then a Civilization of Love “requires above all a change of life-styles, of models of production and consumption, and of the established structures of power which today govern societies” (Centesimus Annus § 58).
But let us follow Mr. Horn to the end of the above line of reasoning. His argument lives or dies on the argument that investing in one’s future is a proportionate reason to (remotely, materially) cooperate with all the evils listed above:
And in the case of retirement savings, if the proportionate reason is that I’m able to support myself and not end up in poverty and not cause immense financial strain on my children… I will follow Pope Leo XIII’s advice to save, invest, and build up an inheritance for my children, and I think that when we do that, we really do build up the Kingdom of God.
Again, this logic does not hold if (traditional) speculation is truly a sinful act. But even the peripheral logic of what kind of inheritance we should build up for our children is deeply confused. The saints rebuke this specious line of reasoning. In the words of St. John Chrysostom:
Let everything be secondary with us to the provident care we should take of our children, and to our bringing them up in the chastening and admonition of the Lord (Eph 6:4). If from the very first he is taught to be a lover of true wisdom, then wealth greater than all wealth has he acquired and a more imposing name. You will effect nothing so great by teaching him an art [i.e. a profession], and giving him that outward learning by which he will gain riches, as if you teach him the art of despising riches. If you desire to make him rich, do this. For the rich man is not he who desires great riches, and is encircled with great riches; but the man who has need of nothing. Discipline your son in this, teach him this. This is the greatest riches. (Homily 21 on Ephesians)
For the Fathers, the best way we can care for our children is by teaching them to “despise riches” and to love “treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy and thieves do not break in and steal” (Mt 6:20). Why would I want to give my children as transient a “gift” as earthly money in an ever-more-sinful society? Rather, following the Common Doctor’s distinction, let us give them an inheritance of “real wealth”—land, tools, and skills backed by roots, relationships, and the righteousness of the Kingdom—even if it means having less “artificial wealth”—U.S. Dollars and corporate shares backed by Washington and Wall Street. Above all, let us give them the example of an upright and virtuous life, whatever the earthly cost may be.
Gold and Gambling
Mr. Horn offered two other moral loopholes which ought to be closed to the conscience: the apparent inconsistency of buying gold and the permissibility of gambling. Both objections ultimately rely on obfuscating metaphors, which can clarified by some careful distinctions.
The morality of “investing” in gold is considered because Dr. Imam has elsewhere recommended it as a moral method of “beating inflation.” This a common argument for why we need to own stocks: the U.S. dollar (and indeed all modern currencies) are constantly undergoing inflation, in which the money supply is increased by central banks and the “real purchasing power” of that money decreases. Therefore, in the confounding progress of modernity, money-under-the-mattress is slowly eroding in value.
It must be noted that eternal inflation and central banks, just like the Stock Market, are a modern phenomenon, which co-evolved throughout the history of capitalism. The sin of speculation goes hand in hand with usury (interest on loans) and debasement (lowering the value of a currency), all of which are essential to the functioning of modern nation-states. As I have discussed elsewhere, the mandatory minimum usury rates and the steady devaluation of currency, imposed by the Fed onto all U.S. banking, forces into reality the delusion that “money makes money” and that infinite economic growth is both possible and desirable. The result is that usurers rob debtors, governments robs citizens, employers rob workers, and all market transactions are suffused with the robbery of speculation.
Obviously, suffering sin does not sanctify sinning. The inflation of the U.S. dollar does not justify receiving usury from a bank or speculating on stocks anymore than it justifies robbing your local farmer’s market when they raise their prices. This is where Dr. Imam proposes gold as one form of legitimate saving. It is important to note that buying gold should not be considered an investment. Owning gold involves no labor, except perhaps of storing and securing it. Gold is like any other natural and God-given inanimate object which retains its value (“real purchasing power”) but does not bring in a profit, as long as it is cared for. Unlike fiat money, it has a reality which is not determined by man. One might also choose to keep one’s savings in timber, stone, clay, wheat, or wool—except that these are noticeably harder to transport and protect from decay. (Still, Our Lord warns that all “treasures on earth” are relative and undeserving of our trust.) Of course, as stated above, it possible to speculate on anything, from cows to houses to gold ingots: to carefully follow the markets so to buy and sell gold at a higher return (e.g. 10% when inflation is at 4%) would indeed be immoral. As long we refuse to “invest” in gold, as the pagans do, it is an acceptable way for Christians to hold savings in gold instead of greenback—though the choice to save, rather than to give alms, to tithe, to lend, to host a feast, or to invest in productive property, must always be subject to an ethical evaluation of our genuine needs and obligations.
Mr. Horn’s other loophole is to suggest that the Stock Market is actually a form of gambling, and that because the Catechism states that “[g]ames of chance (card games, etc.) or wagers are not in themselves contrary to justice” (§ 2413, emphasis original), it is permissible to make money this way, as long as we avoided cheating. It is true that we commonly speak of “betting” on the Stock Market and these metaphors are common in the language of financial commentators: “this stock is losing badly,” “such-and-such a billionaire is all in on this stock,” “this deal will sweeten the pot,” “the regulators are forcing them to show their cards,” etc. But to take this metaphor so seriously as to confuse investing and gambling is to misunderstand both.
Gambling is justified exclusively for the sake of friendship, merriment, and recreation. This is revealed in that we call them games of chance. Gathering with friends at a poker night or at a church raffle is fine because it is fun, regardless of the outcome, to the well-ordered soul. If a man is only gambling to make a profit, he is there for the wrong reason; a card-shark is a sinner if he is certain, furious, or desperate to win the pot. (Additionally, one knows that the money doesn't leave the community of friends; I will leave aside the dubious morality of patronizing corporate casinos.)
None of these arguments could apply to stock trading: stock trading is not fun or sociable because it is a global economic system, literally impossible to enjoy within a limited circle of real, local friends. Furthermore, gambling is performed by chance events (spinning a wheel or drawing a card) or playful activities (a race or a game of chess), all of which have a definitive outcome in the form of an awarded prize (unlike the endless speculative game of the Market). Investing, as defined by the Church, is a much more expansive vocation, performed to dignify and develop economic production, so as “to offer people an opportunity to make good use of their own labour” (Centesimus Annus § 36 ⁋ 4). The act of investing is not the pursuit of further rest and recreation, but to promote the “universal destination of goods” and the “dignity of work.” In gambling, the money takes the form of a “pot,” that is, a prize; in investing, the money takes the form of capital, i.e. productive property.
Even if someone did claim that he recreationally bought stocks with no expectation of profit (and unless he is betting his ice cream money on Robin Hood, he is certainly lying), “gambling” on stocks for the sake of “relaxing” isn’t true gambling, in which all the players pool their money with the understanding that one or more “winners” will be given the prize, and the rest will lose in good fun, which was everyone’s common goal. Rather, in a stock trade, the “loser” thinks that he is actually “winning” the “prize” of the stock he buys. As Dr. Imam and Dr. Barnes have pointed out:
Likewise, it does not seem to be justified as a way of relating buyer and seller—as a stance for one person to take toward another. It is difficult to buy or sell stocks in a mutually beneficial exchange—the only way one may licitly earn money. A shareholder sells his shares because he believes that the asset is bad. He may be wrong—but he would not risk it; it is time to get out. He sells to another what he considers to be a liability. Now, the buyer may know more than him—that the company will soon sign a new contract, that its sales will rise, that the impression of the company will duly improve, and thus also the share price. But the seller does not believe this is so; he offloads what he considers to be rotten eggs. The buyer, meanwhile, buys because he thinks the seller is wrong in his assessment. Structurally speaking, both assume that they are getting the better of the other, the seller that the buyer is a dupe, and the buyer the seller is foolish, and so conclude their business in an act of mutual disdain, however impersonal their trading platforms make it. (New Polity 3.1, “Should Christians Invest in the Stock Market?,” page 40)
In summary, gambling is properly understood as a playful societas, in which players contribute towards a prize which the winner receives (and sometimes splits with a charitable institution), whereas investing is a productive societas, in which owners of capital and laborers collaborate in the creation of honest work and wealth. Only among pagan institutions, from the publicly traded MGM Resorts in Vegas to r/WallStreetBets on Reddit, can the two be easily confounded.
Semper Via Crucis
Against these replies, Mr. Horn’s closing statements included two grave accusations: that to say that 401ks are generally sinful is to be a Pharisee (due to rigorism) and a Protestant (due to challenging the hierarchy).
Regarding the first accusation, Mr. Horn quotes Matthew 23:4: They bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with their finger. According to him, Dr. Imam has “robbed people of peace” by questioning their good intentions to save up for their families and even by convincing some to empty their retirement accounts. I can understand Mr. Horn’s doubtless well-intentioned concerns: if 401ks are not premised on sin, then we at New Polity have caused a great deal of misguided moral distress and absurd scrupulosity. But if our arguments are correct—if the speculation condemned by the Fathers remains sinful—then we have a responsibility to guide others in “making themselves friends by unrighteous mammon” (Luke 16:9), that is, by ceasing to speculate and beginning to genuinely invest, if so called. Because speculation has become so structural a sin, embedded in relationships of dependency (such as family duties, like the care of children and the elderly), it is not easily escaped. Yet, the same is true of the unmarried who cohabitate or live in gay “marriages”: in these cases, there are a thousand practical considerations (each one a “heavy burden”) involved in trying to care for humans needs (food, shelter, transportation, etc) while repenting of one’s sin. Does following the Lord really demand so much? Can the Good Shepherd be so rigorous?
Here, we can resolve this tension only by distinguishing between two kinds of rigorism: that which “binds heavy burdens” and that which says “take up thy cross.” The evil rigorism is the exploitative rigorism of the early-1st-century Jewish elite, who abused the Old Law to siphon wealth from the poor countryside (such as Galilee) and to cement their political position of collaborating with pagan Rome. Jesus has nothing to do with these kinds of rules, but says rather come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest (Mt 11:28). However, He goes on to say my yoke is easy, and my burden is light (v. 30). The Lord—our Master and King—does not deny that He will give us a yoke, albeit a very different one. Jesus puts it more boldly elsewhere: if any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me (Mt 16:24). Taking up a cross is certainly “rigorous.” No slavery to sin can remain if we are to be liberated. This is why Jesus seems to be laying even more strict burdens on the Chosen People in His Sermon on the Mount. You have heard it said… but I say to you…! The condemnation of adultery is intensified to include lust. The condemnation of stealing is doubled up to include mere attachment to wealth. The condemnation of murder is expanded to include hatred and harsh words. But all this glorious rigorism is for our good, that we may be perfect like our Father in Heaven. Where our conscience, as formed by the Holy Church, convicts us, loving ourselves and our neighbors means desiring repentance, conversion, and sanctity. If we are not willing to purge ourselves and our society of sin, no matter how widespread and common those sins may be, then we are like the false prophets in the days of Jeremiah:
They have healed the wound of my people lightly,
saying, ‘Peace, peace,’
when there is no peace. (6:14)
When Mr. Horn states that he wants to give listeners “freedom in Christ,” he is invoking not the Christian but the liberal definition of freedom, in which our use of money belongs to the “neutral” sphere of private gain. True freedom in Christ includes many rules about how to use money, but these come naturally, presenting absolutely no burden to a Saint, because money is not what she loves. Above all, she trusts (and knows by faith) that if she seeks first the kingdom of God and His righteousness that all these things—her earthly needs—will be added to her (Mt 6:33).
And what of the hierarchy? I must admit to Mr. Horn, this is his strongest rhetorical argument. If speculation and 401ks are truly sinful, then why have no U.S. bishops spoken out against them? Indeed, many dioceses include automatic 401ks for their employees. To answer this objection requires an honest acknowledgement of an immense tragedy: the episcopate has often been enmeshed in widespread sin. On the eve of the Reformation, many bishops did not even live in their own dioceses (now illegal in Canon Law), while collecting “revenues” from the simony of indulgences hundreds of miles away. Less than two centuries ago, in our country, the U.S. bishops interpreted papal decrees to condemn only the slave trade, and not slave labor. Only two decades ago, an immense ring of abusive pedophile priests was unveiled to have been shielded from justice by a large number of our nation’s bishops. In all cases, future bishops have judged these actions as sinful, promulgated reforms to diocesan law, called for penance, and apologized on behalf of the Church.
Not one of these words are meant to call into question my unceasing submission to and love for the bishop who rules me, nor to justify any disobedience or disrespect for the reader’s bishop. Rather, let us be attentive to the papal Magisterium’s teaching and ask our local Magisterium for clear and consistent catechesis on these matters. Let us be sheep, rather than goats, for our shepherds by living virtuous lives, pure and undefiled. Let us strengthen our dioceses by investing in the local economy within the lands each bishop governs, rather than the international corporations which know no religion nor restraint. And above all, let us remember that the call to perpetual reformation—not through heresy or schism, but through repentance and moral conversion—has been declared for the entire Church by Her most recent Council:
While Christ, holy, innocent and undefiled knew nothing of sin, but came to expiate only the sins of the people, the Church, embracing in its bosom sinners, at the same time holy and always in need of being purified, always follows the way of penance and renewal. (Lumen Gentium § 8)
Sean Domencic is a contributing author for New Polity and the former editor of Tradistae. He and his wife, Monica, are involved in the Catholic Worker Movement and raising their children in Lancaster, PA. He prefers to write for free but would appreciate your support through prayer and alms. Donations can be made at patreon.com/tradistae
Image: Jean Claude Richard de Saint-Non, Worship of the Golden Calf and Christ on the Mount of Olives, 1775. (https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.91292.html)