Money Anxiety and the Deeper Struggle about Giving

“[I]f not the root of all evil,” Philip Zaleski recently wrote, money is “at least the root of much anxiety.” “How poorly we rule our cash and coin; how artfully they rule us. Think of the lies, ploys, incriminations, terrors we invent in the presence or absence of money.”

For centuries Americans have been warned against dependency upon money, lest they fall into that state of anxiety. St. Augustine, that ancient, masterful interpreter of the “lies, ploys, incriminations, terrors we invent” in the course of our lives, urged his followers never to count upon money. According to one contemporary historian, “There was for Augustine no profit in wealth, least of all in money.” "Money," he tells us, “is made round to indicate its mobile nature, its capacity to roll away and leave nothing behind. Gold and silver evaporate, and are no more substantial than wind and smoke.”

Though momentarily powerful, Augustine's admonitions may not save us from money anxiety, especially when we contemplate the powerful image of round coins rolling “away and leaving nothing behind.” That prospect is often what those of us with moderate means fear most.

The possibility of losing money conjures up anxiety about the loss of control. If we have a little in the bank or tucked away elsewhere, then we can keep at least a modicum of control over our lives. Money offers a means of staying in charge. Something left for old age, enough to cover sickness, freedom from being a burden upon others – these strategies seem to protect us against feeling vulnerable and helpless in the midst of life's vicissitudes. And yet the anxiety remains.

So what are the “roots” of this state of anxiety? Most visions of giving suggest answers to that question. The most popular American explanation invokes the scourge of greed – or in some generations “avarice” or in others “covetousness” or “Mammon” and now more recently “materialism.” But these answers raise yet more questions.

• Is money “virtuous?” Aren’t many of these heated charges often complaints about other people’s behavior?  What are the sources of our conflict? Are “good” givers – whatever your definition – automatically free from the subtle tyranny of money anxiety?
• So what is the root of our problem? How do “good” givers exercise the “power of purse?” What does it mean to speak – as Luther did – of the need for the “conversion of the purse?”
• The “Glow of Benevolence?” “Good” givers and the exercise of the “power of purse.” 
• A “private” matter? In a land teeming with discussion groups gathering regularly to talk about almost every imaginable topic, why are there so relatively few groups that offer sustained conversations about giving? What accounts for the reticence? How does money anxiety contribute to the etiquette of silence?

Before you choose one of these four “Places to Begin” as a way into the conversation, reflect on these questions:

• Whom do you talk with about your own perplexities about giving? Is there anyone who can help you work through tough decisions about how much and for what purposes?
• What internal conflicts inhibit your progress toward developing your own vision of giving?
• Think for a moment about the people whom you would describe as “good” givers. What qualities of mind and spirit are evident in their giving?