As global financial markets collapse due to the actions of the current U.S. President’s decision to ignite a trade war, I thought it might be worthwhile to revisit this essay I wrote on the Psychology and Spirituality of Money. A longer version of this appears in my book Ordinary Mysteries.

I’ve been thinking about money lately, and watching my 401k balance. The average American thinks about money more than sex. (No, I have no footnote substantiating that claim, but someone on the internet said it, so it must be true.) My pondering of the wonders and problems of money may be related to the state of the stock market. I need to think differently about all things cash these days. Since I turned fifty a while back, I’ve been a passionate saver. Now I’m shifting my mentality from saving to spending. I’m told that’s a tough transition for some. You must get your brain into a different frame of mind.

We’ve used some currency equivalent for four thousand years of human history. We bartered for goods, which worked as long as we were trading a handheld tool for a clay pot, but as civilization evolved, trading twenty heads of cattle for a piece of land became more complicated. Humans needed some representation of a mutually agreed-upon value.

The first known coin might have been developed in ancient Mesopotamia as far back as four thousand years ago. But standardized coins may have existed during the 7th century BCE in Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey), with paper money emerging in China around a thousand years ago. In short order, people realized you could borrow from or lend this currency to others, based on an understanding of trust. This might be why the word credit evolved because its root word is credo, meaning “I believe.”

Credit evolved as trade routes extended across the savannas of Africa, to shipping across oceans, to the modern computer transfer of vast sums of money. The typical American carries a statement of their creditworthiness in a wallet or purse. Frank McNamara conceived the first credit card, the Diners Club card, in 1950, with Amex and Visa introduced in 1958. Credit impacted humanity’s approach to trade, travel, and taxes, not to mention political and economic power.

But we are not here to explore an economic history lesson; instead, I’m interested in the meaning behind money. The origin of the word credit is credo. Like it or not, we are all people of faith. By this, I mean we put our trust in the divine, as defined by that magic maker of all things possible . . .yes, money. In the US, our money is marked with the slogan “In God We Trust.” Am I the only one who finds that curious?

I’ll go further. Money is our god. It is what we worship.

The mythologist Joseph Campbell remarked in that famous television series with Bill Moyers, The Power of Myth, “You can tell what’s informed the society by the size of what the building is that’s the tallest building in the place. When you approach a medieval town, the cathedral’s the tallest thing in the place. When you approach a 17th-century city, it’s the political palace that’s the tallest thing in the place. And when you approach a modern city, it’s office buildings and dwellings that are the tallest things in the place.”[1] Campbell pointed to a concrete example of our financially-obsessed society. Indeed, our focus on the economy has a psychological/spiritual quality. We use the exact same words to describe the economy as we do for people’s mental and emotional well-being: depression, inflation, assets, deficits, and balance.

Money is currency, as in the current or flow of a river. Money is ultimately about the flow of energy. Money makes things happen. It functions very much like energy. When I go to the grocery store, I am exchanging money for beans, capicola, arugula, and rice. I plan to turn that into a risotto to fuel my cycling ride tomorrow. Indeed, money is about the transfer of energy, in this case, the resources my body needs to pedal a bike. We use the money to acquire a flow of stuff tied to security, comfort, knowledge, travel, etc.

For many Americans, money, embodies capitalism, high finance, big spending, and the rags-to-riches story of opportunity. In his essay “A Brief History of Why the U.S. Consumer Thinks the Way They Do,” Morgan Housel describes the economic engine that has changed our idea of life. (You can read the essay in his book The Psychology of Money.) He points to the radical reorientation of our attitudes by asking us to imagine a Rip Van Winkle-like person falling asleep in 1945 and waking up in 2020. The amount of economic growth that took place in that period is unprecedented. That growth has changed our expectations and attitudes toward money and life. One example is that the median square footage in an American home has risen from 1,000 in 1973 to nearly 2,500 square feet in 2020. Today, new homes have more bathrooms than people, and nearly half of the new homes built today have four or more bedrooms, up from 18% in 1983.[2] We now expect more, we expect bigger, and we expect it to continue. That has had a significant impact on our attitude toward all of life.

“Money is a descendant of those things early peoples deemed treasure, mana, fetish, what was perceived to have magical or talismanic properties or was suitable as offering to the gods or God.”[3] Ancient money often had a god, goddess, or animal on one side of the coin. This practice evolved to depicting images of political rulers on coins, for example, the Roman emperor Julius Caesar, who as emperor was thought to have divine qualities.

When asked about paying taxes, Jesus responded, “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.” (Mark 12:17) He responded to a question intended to trap him into defying the authorities. Elsewhere Jesus has a lot to say about money:

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.—Matthew 6:19–21

And then there is that scene in John’s gospel in which Jesus expresses righteous indignation at the economic injustice of the moneychangers.

But money is and always has been a symbol of the magical; even today, money seems to make things happen. It’s not the money itself but the mutually agreed-upon value that money has that makes things happen, whether that be an evening meal, a college education, or the construction of a new home.

Money has power. In our soul’s treasury are “deposits of mythical fantasies and imaginal possibilities,”[4] writes James Hillman.

Perhaps even more than sex, money invites all manner of psychological and spiritual projections. Money is indeed complex and complicated, as Carl Jung reminds us.

“Money is not only complex, but it is “complex:” namely, an emotionally charged group of ideas or images. . . complexes interfere with the intentions of the will and disturb the conscious performance; they produce disturbances of memory and blockages in the flow of associations; they appear and disappear according to their own laws; they can temporarily obsess consciousness, or influence speech and action in an unconscious way. In a word, complexes behave like independent beings.”[5]

Or, in a more lay definition of a complex: think of a time when you just lost it emotionally, be it in tears, anger, or grinding frustration, and then a while later, maybe a day or two, you think to yourself Why did I react so extremely?Well, that's an experience of a complex.

The money complex shows up all the time in religious settings. It’s as if that ancient practice of depicting deities on coins worms its way into modern congregational life. Among the sentences or phrases I’ve heard through the years:

“This church needs a Casino night; surely that will help us financially.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think we should give money to support the youth mission service trip to West Virginia; that state already gets enough funding from the federal government.”
“The pastor should not get a raise because she/he is supposed to live a sacrificial life.”
“My spouse and I are leaving because all this church does is ask for money.”

Money can also be a way in which we reward or punish people. In one case, a minister justifying why he stole funds from the church stated, “I can’t believe I did this. My only explanation is that I felt underpaid.” In another setting, the long-time treasurer of a synagogue was prosecuted for embezzling funds. When asked why she started stealing money after nearly thirty years in that role, she confessed, “I guess I thought all my work wasn’t appreciated, so I gave myself a raise.”

Money is both complex and a complex. When I listen to people talk about money, I often assume they are talking about their soul or attitude toward being in the world. Years ago, in a money workshop, I learned how the experience of money as a child often informs our attitudes as adults. This helped me understand myself and others when we sat around the table for the annual budget planning session. But, I’ve come to believe, it’s about more than just the money. Because money is intimately connected with holy and divine qualities, our expressions around money reveal something of our inner treasury.

I am fond of the book The Soul of Money by Lynne Twist. In chapter after chapter, she unveils our understandings and misunderstandings about money. As a part of her work raising funds for a global hunger network, she meets with influential and wealthy people who are often generous. But it is her encounter with Gertrude and her words that capture the essence of Twist’s book.

Gertrude says, “To me, money is a lot like water. For some folks it rushes through life like a raging river. Money comes through my life like a trickle. But I want to pass it on in a way that does the most good for the most folks. I see that as my right and responsibility. It’s also my joy.”[6]

Money is like water. What a gorgeous way of understanding money. This image changes our view from money as static, into something dynamic. Money has vibrancy, fluidity and flow. It can be a currency of love, appreciation, nourishment. When you go with the flow you make a difference with what you have, it expands.

“Money is a current, a carrier, a conduit for our intentions,” writes Twist, “Money carries the imprimatur of our soul.”[7]

Or put another way: “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:21)

More to Come,

Jim

James Hazelwood is an author and photographer. He writes at the intersection of everyday life and the spirituality and psychology of depth traditions. His current book is Ordinary Mysteries: Faith, Doubt and Meaning.

He also publishes a Photography focus Substack, The PhotoBooks of James Hazelwood.