What is Christian economics?

Christianity has been invoked as a spiritual godfather by economists of every stripe. Jesus seemed to prove his socialist credentials when he promised that the poor shall inherit the earth. Paul seemed to anticipate Ayn Rand when he wrote that he who does not work neither shall he eat. As long as economists reach for whatever evidence suits their case, the contention over whether Christianity inclines to the economics of the left or of the right will never end.

Perhaps, it is time to reset terms of the debate by looking at what Jesus and the Apostles said about economics and how they put what they thought into practice. The Gospels made more than a few references to economics.

The Greek term for economics, oikonomia, originated in pagan Greece, migrated into Hellenist Judaism, and in the New Testament was cited by Jesus, Paul, and Peter. Granted, the study of oikonomia in ancient culture was in its infancy. And indeed, even though Jesus quoted oikonomia twice, he did not dwell on it. But Peter — who succeeded Jesus as leader of Christians in Jerusalem — referred to oikonomia theou (theos = God), spelled out how it worked, and put it into practice. For example, Christians ought to “use hospitality one to another without grudging”. The Acts of the Apostles related that under Peter’s leadership Christians were offered free meals; deacons were appointed to help the poor; and wealthy members of the community funded these services through sales of property.

Wherever Christian communities emerged, with them they brought oikonomia theou, hosting meals and finding new ways to support the poor, for example, by ransoming prisoners kidnapped by pirates. Roman authorities were wary of conspiracies and therefore suspicious of Christian charity, which threatened to drive a wedge between loyalty to Roman authority and to a creed. But oikonomia by the end of the second century also caused a rift between Christians in the East and the West. In Egypt, Christians under the spell of otherworldly asceticism withdrew to monasteries located as far as possible from bustling cities. In Rome, Christians who copied certain practices of their Jewish cousins unfolded new approaches to oikonomia.

Second-century Rome had a large Jewish constituency in the Trastevere district (the neighbourhood around St Peter’s basilica) that managed a number of synagogues (around a dozen), as well as cemeteries. The cemeteries of Jews in Rome might have been one of two catalysts for transforming Christian economics.

Today, tourists to Rome enjoy visiting the catacombs, a sprawl of underground early Christian burial sites on the outskirts of Rome. The first catacombs in fact were Jewish. Christians would have insisted on independent oversight of cemeteries given Christian and Jewish notions of the afterlife were irreconcilable.

A second catalyst might have been Roman tax laws. By the end of the second century, Romans granted Christians permission to raise subscriptions for laying out catacombs. How Christians came by this concession is a mystery. A colourful figure, Callixtus, who seems to have been a financial broker before he rose to administer the catacombs, seems to have pulled strings at the imperial court where an equally intriguing figure, Marcia, a courtesan favoured by the emperor’s attention, smoothed the approval process.

Ecclesial leaders recognised that the subscriptions put into their hands transformed the church. So important was Callixtus to ecclesial management that later he succeeded to the papacy, setting a pattern of promotion that became a template for preferment. The papacy went to the candidate who had had his hand on the purse strings of the Christian community. Oikonomia in Christianity entered a new phase once it encompassed managing revenues and expenses.

While Egyptian Christianity was turning its back on the world, meanwhile Roman Christianity was developing skills in managing properties and budgeting for them. There were repercussions on paganism and on monasticism.

In the fourth century, Christianity had begun crowding out paganism. A Roman emperor who wanted to turn the clock back and restore paganism, Julian the Apostate (331-363), called on pagan priests to copy Christian charity to stem the flow of conversions. Roman oikonomia also began to permeate Christianity in the West. In the sixth century, an Italian monk, Benedict of Nursia (480-547), founded an order based on the motto Ora et labora: monks were to pray but also to work. Work was a form of piety. From then on, Christianity phased out the introspective Eastern model of monks living as hermits, and the Western model of monks who practised enterprise shaped the rise of the West.

From its inception, Christianity contained an economic dimension. That Jesus did not elaborate at length the practical applications of oikonomia is not surprising. His following was small, his ministry short. And although Paul cited oikonomia theou and gave advice to many Christian communities, he was not responsible for implementing policies. Peter, however, stated what he thought oikonomia theou prescribed, and the Acts of the Apostles related how he put this blueprint into practice.

Oikonomia evolved when Christians picked up cues from their Jewish cousins in Rome and when the church began to draw on a steady income and act like a corporate entity. Oikonomia adapted to impulses from fiscal, social, and cultural catalysts. This process unfolded over several centuries. But this learning process originated in oikonomia in the Gospels.

For a full version of this argumentation see Benedikt Koehler, Christian economics at the origin, Economic Affairs, February 2020.