Be Still and Know: What Does God Ask of Us in Our Economic Life?

There are mornings when the house is completely quiet and the sun is just beginning to come through the trees. I have come to really value those early hours with the Lord.

Lately, something unexpected has been on my mind during that time.

The economy.

Not economics in the sense of charts and numbers or even political parties. I've been thinking more about what Scripture says about work, money, ownership, generosity, and our responsibility toward one another.

I recently listened to Vice President JD Vance talking with Joe Rogan. During their conversation, Vance talked about something he described as a Christian idea of political economy that has largely disappeared from American life. That caught my attention.

So much of our political conversation seems to give us only two choices. On one side, the free market is treated as though it can solve almost everything if government will simply get out of the way. On the other, government becomes responsible for solving inequality through greater control and redistribution.

But is that really all there is?

As I listened, I started thinking about what Scripture actually says.

“The earth is the Lord’s, and all its fullness” (Psalm 24:1, NKJV).

That seems like a pretty good place to begin. Everything ultimately belongs to God. We are stewards.

At the same time, Scripture clearly recognizes private property. “You shall not steal” doesn't make much sense unless something can actually belong to another person.

But then God tells landowners not to harvest every last bit of their fields. They were to leave some behind for the poor and the stranger (Leviticus 19:9-10).

There it is again. Ownership and responsibility.

The Bible honors hard work. Proverbs tells us about the value of diligence, and Colossians tells us to work heartily as unto the Lord. But Scripture also gives some very strong warnings about money.

Paul tells us that the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. James has some very serious words for wealthy people who mistreat those who work for them.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that Scripture doesn't allow me to put all of my faith in either the market or the government.

Neither one is God.

I believe private property matters. I believe people should have the freedom to work, build, create, own things, provide for their families, and enjoy the fruit of their labor. But I also believe God cares very much about how we treat the people around us, particularly those who may have less power than we do.

This becomes personal for me because I have spent much of my life working with my hands, building things, repairing things, running businesses, and employing people.

So I find myself asking a much simpler question:

What does all of this mean for me?

How do I treat the man working beside me? Do I pay people fairly? Do I keep my word? Do I protect another man's reputation even when it costs me something?

Do I see the people who work for me simply as an expense on a spreadsheet, or do I remember that they are men and women created in the image of God with families, responsibilities, hopes, and struggles of their own?

And then there is the question of what I do with what God has given me. Do I hold onto it tightly because it makes me feel secure? Or do I recognize that it belonged to Him before it ever came into my hands?

These are questions I want my grandchildren to understand too.

I want them to know that work is good. There is dignity in providing for yourself and your family. There is nothing wrong with building something, owning something, succeeding, or creating wealth.

But I also want them to understand that money makes a terrible god.

What God gives us should never own us. We should be able to hold it with an open hand.

Maybe that is part of what is missing from so much of our economic conversation today. We spend enormous amounts of time arguing about systems and very little time talking about the condition of the human heart.

I don't write any of this as an economist. I'm certainly not one.

I write as a man who has walked with the Lord for more than fifty years, worked, raised a family, employed people, made mistakes, and is still learning what it means to surrender every part of my life to God.

That includes my money. My business. My possessions. And the way I treat the people who work alongside me.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that the economy is not the ultimate thing.

People are.

And behind all of it is God.

So I keep bringing these questions into that quiet place in the early morning and asking the Holy Spirit to show me where my own thinking needs to change.

How do I work hard without making work my identity? How do I build without becoming consumed by what I build? How do I own things without allowing those things to own me?

How do I prosper and still remain generous? How do I care about justice without believing government can accomplish what only changed hearts can accomplish?

I don't have all of those answers. But I know where I want to keep looking for them.

In Scripture. In prayer.

And in that quiet place where I am learning, even after all these years, to listen.