Money Changes Everything (Chapter 3)

Notes
Transcript
In 2005, the Yellowstone Club in Montana was a hidden playground for the ultra-wealthy.
Nestled in the mountains,
this luxury ski resort seemed untouchable.
But beneath the snow-covered glamour,
it was built on something more fragile than powder—debt.
That year, the resort’s founder took out a $375 million loan from investment bank Credit Suisse.
The structure of the deal was astonishing.
Two hundred nine million dollars went straight into his personal accounts.
That wasn’t an accident.
It was actually a part of the loan agreement.
But Credit Suisse wasn’t worried.
It had no real money at risk.
The bank bundled the loan into a collateralized debt product and sold it to outside investors
which included pension funds and retirement portfolios who had no idea how bad the loan really was.
The bank got paid.
The founder got rich.
And the risk?
That got passed off to ordinary working people.
But by 2007, the cracks began to show.
The Yellowstone Club collapsed under its own weight—crushed by debt and mismanagement.
When the Great Recession hit, the club filed for bankruptcy.
And that’s when things got personal.
The plan was to shut it down and walk away from the entire resort.
Hundreds of workers—many with no other job options—were about to be thrown out.
Gardeners, waitresses, mechanics, ski lift operators, cooks.
Real people.
Real lives.
But then something remarkable happened.
A Montana bankruptcy judge saw through the scheme.
He called it what it was—“naked greed.”
He labeled the loan “predatory”
He stripped Credit Suisse of their legal right to be first in line for repayment
which is something almost never done in bankruptcy court.
But it made the difference,
as it opened the door for someone else to buy the resort and rescue the jobs.
Justice won—for once.
But the deeper problem wasn’t solved.
The story made headlines because it captured what one journalist called “the economic zeitgeist” of the age.
Executive salaries exploding.
Luxury goods flaunted.
Massive deals that made a few people rich, while thousands suffered in silence.
And underneath it all was a new moral code.
Paul Krugman,
a prominent economist,
said this wasn’t just an economic trend,
He said it was more like the sexual revolution of the 1960s.
It was a cultural shift.
But this time, it wasn’t about sex.
It was about money.
In the past,
Executives were seen as people who were self-restrained,
People who could be trusted to look out for the best interest of the company and it’s employees.
But by the 1990s, that had completely changed…
The new motto became: “If it feels good, do it.”
This cultural shift had changed to the pursuit of money being a virtue.
But what sin lied underneath it all?
Greed.
Which is something we can easily spot in others,
but rarely see in ourselves.
The cultural anthropologist Ernest Becker once predicted that when our culture gave up on God,
we’d replace Him with romance.
And for a while we did…
We tried that in the 1960’s.
But Frederick Nietzsche had a different theory.
He said we would replace God with money.
And in many ways, he was right.
Nietzsche wrote,
“What induces one man to use false weights, another to set his house on fire after having insured it… is not real want. But a terrible impatience at seeing their wealth pile up so slowly, and a terrible longing for these heaps of gold.”
And then he said,
“What was once done for the love of God is now done for the love of money.”
In other words, money would become our replacement savior.
Which is… a counterfeit god.
And like every good counterfeit, it hides itself.
When it comes to sin.
Lust, anger, pride, addiction.
Those are a lot easier to spot.
But I’ve never had someone come to me for counseling because they thought they were greedy.
No one comes in saying,
“I spend too much on myself. I think my love for money is hurting my soul. I think it’s damaging my family. I think it’s making me blind to the needs of others.”
And why not?
Because greed hides.
It doesn’t show up in obvious ways.
It has a built-in defense system.
And that defense system is one built on Comparison.
The way this works is, when we look around,
we don’t compare ourselves to the rest of the world.
We compare ourselves to the people
who live in our neighborhood.
Go to our schools.
Attend our churches.
And there’s always someone who has more.
So we tell ourselves,
“I’m not greedy. I’m just being responsible. I’m not rich like they are. I’m just trying to keep up.”
And the result is almost all Americans think of themselves as middle class.
In fact, only 2% of Americans self-identify as “upper class.”
But the rest of the world isn’t fooled.
When people visit from overseas, they’re stunned by what we call “normal.”
Because our normal is excessive.
Our normal is living in abundance, and not even realizing it.
And Jesus knew this.
Which is why He warned more about greed than He did about sexual sin.
But... hardly anyone takes Him seriously.
In America, hardly anyone is trying to root out the greed that is in their heart.
Which means right question isn’t:
“Am I greedy?”
But instead is,
“How greedy am I?”
In Luke 19:1–2, it says:
1 Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. 2 And behold, there was a man named Zacchaeus. He was a chief tax collector and was rich.
Right away, we’re told two things.
Zacchaeus was a tax collector.
And he was rich.
But those words don’t carry the same weight for us today as they did back then.
Zacchaeus wasn’t just a rich guy who worked for the IRS.
He worked for Rome.
The occupying force.
The enemy of the Jewish people.
See, tax collectors were Jews who had sold out their own people.
They collected money from their neighbors and gave it to Caesar
after skimming some off the top for themselves,
It was extortion backed by military power.
which is why they were so rich.
But it’s also why they were so hated and despised.
Zacchaeus wasn’t just one of them.
He was the chief of the tax collectors.
He didn’t just betray his people.
He oversaw the whole operation.
And we have to ask: why would someone do that?
Why live as an outcast?
Why turn your back on your own community?
What would make a man embrace that kind of hatred?
One word.
Money.
It was the price he was willing to pay for the power and comfort that wealth brings.
Now… we need to be careful here.
Because it’s easy to look at Zacchaeus and say,
“I would never do that.”
But here’s the truth.
We do it too.
We may not be extorting our neighbors,
but we compromise.
We cut corners.
We justify.
We tell ourselves,
“I’m just being wise.”
“I’m just being a good steward.”
But underneath our excuses, money has taken root.
It shapes our decisions.
It drives our anxiety.
It fuels our discontent.
But the real danger of greed isn’t what it does to your wallet, it’s what it does to your soul.
The Apostle Paul is blunt.
he tells us that greed is a form of idolatry.
5 Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.
5 For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous (that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God.
Greed isn’t just bad behavior it’s false worship.
And Jesus taught the same thing.
15 And he said to them, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”
For Jesus, greed isn’t just love of money.
It’s also anxiety about money.
It’s the fear that without it, you aren’t secure.
It’s the lie that your worth rises or falls with your bank account.
Jesus says, “Life does not consist in your possessions.”
In other words, your identity isn’t based on what you own.
But when we believe it is, we become vulnerable.
Because if you lose your money, or think you might—you lose yourself.
In Luke 16:13, Jesus drives it home:
13 No servant can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.”
Jesus doesn’t say it’s hard to serve both God and money.
He says it’s impossible.
And the word He uses for “serve” means full allegiance.
It’s the idea of service you render to a king.
So, if money rules your heart, it’s not just influencing you.
It’s owning you.
And the way you know it’s owning you is that you start loving it, trusting it, and obeying it.
You daydream about it.
You feel secure because of it.
You rearrange your life to pursue it.
But when God is at the center, money gets dethroned.
It can’t define you.
It can’t control you through fear or desire.
You are free.
Jesus tells us to, “Watch out.”
Because greed is sneaky.
It hides.
See, with other kinds of sin,
you don’t have to warn someone they’re committing adultery.
They know.
And I know we looked at Jacob last week,
But with adultery, it’s not like a person is suddenly like: “Wait a minute… you’re not my wife!”
But with greed it’s very different…
You can be drowning in it and think you’re just being wise.
Look at Zacchaeus…
He didn’t look like a man enslaved.
He looked successful.
But he was blind.
He had sacrificed everything for wealth—and didn’t see what it cost him.
Until Jesus walked in.
And when grace opened his eyes,
money lost its grip.
Luke tells us that Zacchaeus “wanted to see who Jesus was,” but the crowd blocked his view.
Now, let’s pause. Zacchaeus wasn’t just short.
He was hated.
This wasn’t just about height.
In a traditional culture like his, people didn’t climb trees.
That was undignified.
Embarrassing.
Especially for a man of wealth and status.
Especially for someone already despised.
But he did it anyway.
Why?
Luke says, “He wanted to see who Jesus was.”
But this wasn’t casual curiosity.
This was desperation.
This was a man who had wealth, but not peace.
Success, but no joy.
And when Jesus walked by,
He did something no one expected.
He looked up.
Not only did he look up,
but Jesus called Zacchaeus by name.
And then He said something even more scandalous.
“Zacchaeus, come down… for I’m going to your house today”
Not, “May I come?”
Not, “Could we talk?”
But, “I’m coming to your house.”
In that culture, to eat with someone was to identify with them.
To extend friendship.
And Jesus chose the most hated man in the crowd.
He didn’t go to the synagogue leader’s house.
He didn’t pick the most respected elder.
He picked the man no one else would touch.
And the crowd muttered,
“He’s gone to be the guest of a sinner.”
But Jesus didn’t care.
He came for the outsider.
And Zacchaeus welcomed Him with joy.
While Zacchaeus had been climbing trees to catch a glimpse of Jesus.
It was Jesus who sought him.
It wasn’t Zacchaeus who invited Jesus in,
it was Jesus who invited Himself into Zacchaeus’s life.
Because Grace always makes the first move.
And when grace moved, something radical happened.
Zacchaeus stood up and said,
“Look, Lord! Here and now I give half my possessions to the poor. And if I’ve cheated anybody out of anything, I’ll pay back four times the amount.”
No one told him to do that.
Jesus didn’t hand him a checklist.
Zacchaeus wasn’t buying forgiveness.
He was responding to it.
Because something in him had changed.
Zacchaeus gave away 50% of his wealth
which was five times what the law required.
And for those he defrauded, he promised to repay them at 300% interest.
Even though the law only required 20%.
And what a picture of the results on grace!
Because Grace doesn’t ask, “What’s the minimum?” Grace asks, “How much can I give?”
Zacchaeus wasn’t trying to earn anything.
He responded this way because he already received everything he ever needed.
That’s why Jesus says,
“Today salvation has come to this house.”
Not because Zacchaeus gave away money.
But because the evidence of salvation was standing right there.
He wasn’t the same man anymore.
Money used to be his savior.
Now it was just money.
It no longer owned him.
He didn’t serve it - it served him.
And it’s because Jesus had taken its place.
If you look deeper,
money wasn’t Zacchaeus’s only problem.
It was a surface idol.
Because underneath it all were lied ones.
Power,
Control,
Approval,
And money was the tool used to satisfy them.
Some people hoard money to feel secure.
Some people spend money to feel beautiful.
Some people chase money to feel important.
Same idol on the surface.
Different god underneath.
That’s why two people can both love money and act completely different.
One never spends a dime—because they’re serving the idol of control.
The other spends lavishly—because they’re serving the idol of approval.
But in both cases,
money is the servant of a deeper false god.
And the only way to dislodge it is not by willpower.
It’s not by budgeting harder or feeling guilty.
It’s by replacing the false god with the real One.
That’s what happened to Zacchaeus.
He didn’t just “learn to be generous.”
He met Jesus.
And Jesus went deeper than behavior.
He touched the heart.
He showed Zacchaeus that salvation was not earned by law, but received by grace.
And when that grace hit home, everything else loosened its grip.
His money.
His fear.
His pride.
And suddenly, the man who used to take from others was now giving everything away.
Because he had found something better.
In fact, he found Someone better.
Yes, money changes everything. But not nearly as much as grace does.
Money promises security.
But only Grace gives you peace.
Money whispers power.
But only Grace offers you identity.
Money enslaves with fear.
But Grace frees with joy.
Over the years I’ve pastored, one of the most common questions I get is about tithing:
which is the practice of giving away a tenth of your annual income.
People will say,
“I see that in the Old Testament there are clear commands to tithe.
But in the New Testament, it seems less specific.
So… we’re not really required to give ten percent anymore, are we?”
And I’ll usually smile,
shake my head,
and say, “No—the New Testament doesn’t lay out a hard percentage.”
At that point, there’s often a visible sigh of relief.
But here’s the problem…
As New Testament Christians,
have we received more of God’s revelation, truth, and grace than the Old Testament believers… or less?
Are we more indebted to grace than they were or less?
Did Jesus tithe His life and blood to save us…
or did He give it all?”
Do you see the point?
Tithing isn’t some legalistic requirement for Christians.
But I’m convinced that typically, it is the minimum starting point.
Because if the people of God gave ten percent before the cross,
how could we who stand on the other side of it give less?
People who have received the fullness of Christ’s sacrifice and the riches of the gospel…
Jesus didn’t hold back.
He didn’t calculate how much to give.
He poured Himself out.
And the deeper you understand that,
the more your heart says,
“Why stop at ten?”
Just like Zacchaeus’s heart didn’t stop at the bare minimum.
Grace doesn’t ask, “How much must I give?”
Grace asks, “How much can I give?”
Zacchaeus didn’t climb that tree because he had a plan.
He climbed it because he was empty.
And Jesus filled him.
So what about us?
Has grace replaced the greed our hearts?
Has the Savior dethroned Mammon?
Because when He does—money doesn’t disappear.
But it goes back where it belongs.
Not on the throne.
But in your hands.
As a tool to bless others.
And as a sign that grace really has come to your house.
When Paul calls the Corinthians to generosity, he doesn’t command it.
Even though he’s an apostle, he says,
“I say this not as a command.”
Why?
Because gospel generosity can’t be forced.
It has to flow from love.
So Paul points them not to guilt, but to grace.
9 For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.
Jesus gave up infinite wealth.
He laid aside the treasures of heaven.
He emptied Himself of divine privilege.
And why?
So that spiritually bankrupt and hopeless souls like you and I could become rich in mercy.
If Christ would had stayed rich, we would’ve died poor.
But He chose poverty.
He chose a manger.
He chose homelessness.
He chose the cross.
And because He became poor,
we became sons and daughters of the King!
Paul isn’t just telling us to be generous.
He’s telling us to remember the gospel.
Jesus gave up all His treasure—because you were His treasure.
And when you see that, it changes everything.
Money stops being your measure.
It stops being your master.
It becomes a tool for blessing.
Which means,
To the degree that you grasp the gospel money will lose its grip on you, making you a generous giver of your Time, your Treasure, and your Talents
If you still envy others, or hoard,
or fear losing what you have
it’s not because you need better discipline.
It’s because you need deeper gospel clarity.
Because true faith in the gospel restructures your identity.
It resets your motivations.
It frees you to live generously,
not under obligation,
but out of joyful overflow.
7 Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.
Andrew Carnegie understood this—partially.
At just thirty-three years old, he wrote himself a haunting memo.
“Man must have an idol. The amassing of wealth is one of the worst species of idolatry. No idol more debasing than the worship of money… If I continue much longer overwhelmed by business cares… I must degrade myself beyond hope of recovery.”
He promised himself he’d walk away by thirty-five.
But he never did.
He kept chasing.
Carnegie knew money was his idol.
But he didn’t know how to kill it.
Because idols can’t be removed.
They can only be replaced.
You need something better.
Someone better.
And only Jesus qualifies.
Only the One who was rich—and chose poverty—can take money off the throne of your heart.
Only the gospel can break the chains of greed.
That’s what changed Zacchaeus.
That’s what Paul knew would change the Corinthians.
And that’s what will change us.
Which means,
you won’t stop clinging to money
until you see how tightly Christ clung to you.
You won’t let go of your greed until you marvel at His generosity.
Because the cross doesn’t just pay for your sins.
It proves your worth.
And once you know that,
you’ll have treasure nothing can take away.
You’ll be rich.
Not because of what you own.
But because of Who owns you.
