The True Measure of Wealth: What Makes A Person Truly Rich?
Reflection #005
We live in a world that prizes accumulation. The marks of success—career advancement, financial security, social status—are often taken as indicators of a life well lived. Yet beneath the gleam of affluence, many find a quiet emptiness, a subtle ache that wealth cannot soothe. The human heart, as Augustine said, is restless until it rests in God.
Jesus’ words in the Gospels pierce through the illusions of prosperity: “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and yet lose his soul?” (Mark 8:36) In that one question, He redefines what it means to be truly rich—not in terms of possession, but in relationship; not in accumulation, but in communion.
Jesus’ teaching about wealth is unsettling because it dismantles our cherished assumptions. He never condemned material things themselves, but He saw clearly how easily they enslave. Wealth promises control and security, yet it subtly shifts our trust from the Giver to the gift.
When He told the rich young ruler to sell all and follow Him, Jesus wasn’t issuing a universal command to poverty—He was exposing a divided heart. The young man’s wealth was not merely something he owned; it was something that owned him.
True wealth, in the eyes of Christ, is freedom—freedom from the tyranny of needing to prove our worth, freedom from the endless chase for “enough.” At the center of Jesus’ vision is a radical inversion: the poor in spirit are the ones who inherit the kingdom.
To be poor in spirit is to recognize that all we have—our breath, our gifts, our salvation—is grace. This recognition does not produce despair, but gratitude. It frees us to receive, rather than grasp. In God’s economy, the richest person is not the one who has the most, but the one who needs God the most.
This is the paradox of grace: we gain by surrendering, we become full by emptying, and we find our treasure when we stop trying to secure it.
“Money, then, becomes a cruel master when we demand from it what only God can give: meaning, safety, approval. Yet when wealth is dethroned, it becomes a tool for love—a means of generosity and service.”
Timothy Keller often said that idols are good things turned into ultimate things. Money, then, becomes a cruel master when we demand from it what only God can give: meaning, safety, approval. Yet when wealth is dethroned, it becomes a tool for love—a means of generosity and service.
The gospel reorders our affections. When Christ becomes our ultimate treasure, we no longer clutch our possessions as lifelines. We can give, forgive, and live with open hands because our security rests in something that cannot be taken from us. The cross itself is the great reversal—Jesus, though rich, became poor, so that through His poverty we might become rich.
This redefinition of wealth is not abstract theology; it is profoundly practical. It touches how we budget, how we give, how we rest. It challenges our sense of entitlement and invites us into simplicity—not as deprivation, but as joy.
To follow Jesus is to live as stewards, not owners. Everything we have—our time, our resources, our influence—is entrusted to us for the good of others. The more we see life this way, the lighter our hearts become. Contentment grows not from abundance, but from trust.
Ultimately, true wealth is relational. It is found in knowing that we are loved beyond measure by the God who gave Himself for us. This love is our inheritance, our security, our treasure hidden in a field.
No market crash can devalue it, no thief can steal it, no loss can undo it. To possess Christ is to possess everything. When the gospel takes root in the heart, it frees us to live not as hoarders of grace, but as its joyful distributors. In that giving, we discover what Jesus meant when He said, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21).