Praise the Almighty Dollar

I have never understood money. I grew up in a dominantly Christian nation. I grew up in a Christian household. I graduated high school, went on to college and — unlike many young adults entering that new chapter who chose Greek party life or even outright repudiation of their Christian upbringing — chose to seek out further spiritual nourishment at the university campus and community center, thereby continuing my search for something I could follow as a moral compass to help me live a good life putting into practice the ethics and values on which I was raised. Which I followed up by going into religious studies and, eventually, seminary. In all of this, the overall message was simple: love your neighbor, help the poor and oppressed, do unto others, etc. 

So, not only have I never understood money, but I have also never understood the love of money. And especially the ADDICTION to money. Is the Bible not replete with mandates to eschew greed and wealth? Did I grow up on some subversive hippie communist translation that talked about the evils of the deification of the dollar at the expense of human suffering? What was that bit about camels and needles?? 

I have never had a savings account — so obviously I have never owned a single stock in anything. But, even if I were awash in cash, I’m not sure I could morally bring myself to participate in such a system. For, are not many Americans currently amassing obscene amounts of wealth at the expense of an unfolding nationwide totalitarian tragedy? Tell me it’s currently not possible to vastly enrich oneself buying stock in tactical warfare gear, detention centers and deportations. All while millions are stripped of healthcare and children’s basic nourishment and education become collateral damage. 

So as I’m now basically on the brink of bankruptcy, I’ve been  reaching out to my friends to ask them all to pledge one meager dollar per month to help put food on my table until I find gainful employment. But let’s be clear — I’m not asking for a handout. I’m asking them to support my creative ventures in return for tangible virtual goods. For all intents and purposes, I’m selling myself. I’m selling my voice; my talent; my mind; my heart; my soul. My spirit. 

And to be honest, I’m quite surprised at the number of folks who ignore or deflect the request, or even outright refuse.

Now, I do realize I have mounted virtual fundraising campaigns in the past, so perhaps some think to themselves “he always has his hand out.” However, ALL of these were simply so I could have the means to produce and provide music for the consumption, entertainment, and fulfillment of the general public. Because having worked my entire adult life in the nonprofit sector while living in one of the highest cost-of-living cities in the world, I simply didn’t have the means to share these gifts without assistance. 

But guess what? For every dollar I have raised for these ventures, I have likely put in twice as much of my own. So, of all that money raised to put on concerts and such, I personally financially benefitted to the tune of literally zero dollars. In fact, if you saw my post last week, you already know that it even impacted my financial health negatively. I’m still struggling to decide if it was worth it. Maybe my music doesn’t matter. Maybe my gifts to the world don’t matter. Maybe the artistic expressions of soulful creative types in general don’t matter. 

It seems more and more that only money matters.   

And, again — given my upbringing and the scriptural mandates on money — this simply doesn’t make sense to me. I just can’t wrap my brain around it. 

My educational, spiritual, vocational, and ontological trajectory led me down a path in which there never was really much financial surplus for anything beyond a bit of extra income for vacations and some entertainment expenses once the bills were paid. But as an artist, there has simply been this yearning eating away at me throughout my life. Making money seems the mandate for many. For creative types such as myself, the mandate is sharing something — even if we’re not sure what the hell it is. But it begs to be born, and we simply can’t ignore it else we go insane. I guess that’s why some of the greatest creative minds did, in fact, struggle with sanity. Some to the point of self-immolation or suicide. (Don’t worry, that’s not me.)

When I asked one of my longest, dearest friends to please support my current venture, she said she loves me and that our roots go deep and always will, but that she doesn’t feel comfortable mixing friends and money. She said she literally prayed about it. And said she couldn’t see her way to contribute $1 a month. 

Think about that. She literally PRAYED TO GOD — and God instructed her NOT to help feed me in my most trying financial time. 

That’s the not the Christianity I grew up with or studied for years upon end. And again, simply makes absolutely no sense to me. 

But I guess it actually tracks with the dominant current American Christianity, in which the Beatitudes are considered liberal talking points and the Sermon on the Mount is deemed too woke. 

I honestly just don’t know how to exist in this milieu. 

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