The King James Version of the Bible does not mince words. Verse 1 Timothy 610 sets forth: “The love of money is the root of all evil.” I wouldn’t want to argue with the man who had the brass to commission his own version of the Bible, but I think the love of money has to at least share this honor with ignorance, and it is worth putting the two together and giving some thought to our ignorance of money. In the aftermath of our annual financial orgy, whose size and intensity makes tales of Dionysian debauchery seem like kindergarten tea parties, and with a national debt heading toward eight trillion dollars, ignorance of money is a luxury we cannot afford.

We have a strange code of silence when it comes to real discussions about money; at this point in American history we talk about our sex lives more easily than our finances. An older relative of mine confided in me her purchase of a certain hand-held, battery-operated device and the failure of a particular medication advertised during football games to live up to its promises, yet I have no doubt she would be reluctant to reveal her monthly monetary expenditures. We are ashamed of our inability to live within our means, as this indicates irresponsibility and a lack of self-control, sins associated with sloth, lust and moral deterioration. We feel guilty for our failure to contain our quest for gratification within suitable limits. Time and again we vow to reform.

It ranks as one of the great modern American hypocrisies that while millions lobby for the beliefs of Christianity to be written into Federal law and incorporated into our public institutions, we ignore our national collusion to violate one of the founding tenets of the Christian faith; one of the Big Ten from whence the expression “written in stone” originated - namely the bit about coveting. Unambiguous anti-coveting directives occupy prime real estate on the short list of rules to live by, whether you consult the Protestant, Catholic or Hebrew versions of the Ten Commandments, although the Catholics felt less of a need to go into explanations. They simply said not to covet thy neighbor’s wife and goods, whereas the Protestants and Hebrews offered helpful examples of goods one might be tempted to covet, such as thy neighbor’s ass, ox, and house; wrapping up with “any thing that is thy neighbor’s” to make sure there could be no claim of exceptions for, say, a pair of killer sandals. Yet we stand eerily silent while billions of dollars are poured into dreaming up and implementing ever more invasive and sophisticated ways to induce us to covet. Indeed, our economy and social structures are so dependent upon our willingness to submit to a lifetime of coveting that it has become part of our national identity.

Ordinary people in the trenches of failed attempts at sound money management are in good historical company. Some of the earliest paper currency in the United States, called ‘continentals’, was printed by the colonists in order to finance the Revolutionary War, hoping that taxes collected later would back it up, kind of like you or I printing up a few greenbacks to tide us over until that bonus comes through. It was the first time that money was worth something only because of what it could purchase, not because of its intrinsic value, like a gold coin. Unfortunately, with rising inflation and no real backing, after awhile you might as well have used the bills for fire starter, which gave paper money such a bad reputation that the federal government did not issue it again until financing was needed for the Civil War. A review of the history of currency shows that government monetary policy often changed in the face of impending crisis – proof, if any were needed, that those in power are just like the rest of us, only facing reality when all other options have been exhausted.

With the exception of economics majors, most people are only aware of the stock market crash of 1929, but there have been financial disasters and panics throughout our history. In a review of Panic on Wall Street: A History of America’s Financial Disasters, by Robert Sobel, Gail Owens Hoelscher writes, “Sobel could find no “law of panics” which might allow us to predict them, but notes their common characteristics. Most occur during periods of optimism (“irrational exuberance?”). Most arise as “moments of truth,” after periods of self-deception, when players not only suddenly recognize the magnitude of their problems, but are also stunned at their inability to solve them.” Does this sound familiar? Moments of truth after periods of self-deception during periods of optimism seems like an apt description of how most of us deal with money, whether we like to admit it or not.

Our childhood stories feature trunks overflowing with gold in the cellars of kings and the thrill of a single coin in the hands of a pauper. Wealth has long been associated with power and pleasure, yet few of us know how to best use whatever money we have in service of our own peace of mind. We allow our leaders to portray the unending pursuit of bigger, better and more as a defining characteristic of freedom and prerequisite to happiness, without acknowledging that this same pursuit keeps us distressed and enslaved. Our failure to resist the dangling carrot and its resulting burdens should not be borne as our own private shame, confined to marital arguments, dimly lit confessionals and the regrets that torment the hours before dawn. On the contrary, we should take to the airwaves to protest the exploitation of our weakness and the all-too-legal prostitution of our desires. If we are going to tackle moral questions as a nation, we cannot confine ourselves to the black and white questions, the ones that have red and blue states lining up like well-behaved children. We have to engage the difficult ones as well, and one of them would be to take an honest look at our culture of coveting and the human cost of living in a society whose membership dues are a constant craving for what we cannot afford.