The True Danger of Materialism

There is a quiet lie that walks through every age dressed like success. It glitters. It promises safety. It whispers, “If you just had a little more, you could finally rest.” And men and women, good people, even devout souls, begin to build their lives not around God, but around that promise.

Fulton J. Sheen often spoke of the great drama of the human heart. Not politics. Not economics. A choice. Always a choice. God or self. Eternity or the moment. The Cross or the cushion.

Material wealth is not evil in itself. Gold does not sin. Houses do not rebel. Comfort does not curse God. But the heart that clings does. The soul that says, “This is my security,” has already begun to drift. Because whatever you lean on instead of God becomes your master.

The world preaches accumulation. Christ preaches abandonment. The world says, “Save your life.” Christ says, “Lose it.” The world says, “Protect your comfort.” Christ says, “Take up your cross.” These are not poetic contrasts. They are marching orders from two different kingdoms.

You cannot serve both. Not because God is jealous in the small way of men, but because love demands wholeness. A divided heart cannot burn. A soul padded with constant comfort loses the strength to choose sacrifice. And without sacrifice, love remains a feeling instead of becoming a gift.

The danger of wealth is not that it gives us things. It is that it tempts us to stop needing God. When life runs smoothly, prayer shortens. When the bank account is full, trust becomes theory. When comfort is constant, the Cross looks unreasonable. And yet it is precisely through the Cross that Christ saved the world.

Every day presents the same question in different clothing. Do I choose God or the world right now? Do I choose to give or to keep? To serve or to be served? To forgive or to hold resentment? To pray or to scroll? These small choices carve the direction of a soul more than dramatic gestures ever will.

To choose God over the world means accepting that love will cost you something. Time that could have been leisure. Money that could have been luxury. Energy that could have been spent on yourself. It means stepping toward the lonely, the poor, the inconvenient. It means saying yes when comfort says no.

Sacrifice is not a loss in God’s economy. It is an exchange. You surrender what passes so you may receive what lasts. You give up temporary ease and receive eternal depth. You lose a little control and gain divine intimacy. The saints were not miserable people. They were people who traded lesser joys for greater ones.

The world fears sacrifice because it does not believe in resurrection. It sees only the loss, not the glory that follows. But the Christian knows that every true offering is joined to Christ’s own. No act of hidden generosity, no quiet self-denial, no unseen service disappears. It is gathered into eternity.

The tragedy is not that some are poor in possessions. The tragedy is that many are rich in things and poor in God. A soul can be surrounded by abundance and starving for meaning. Only one wealth survives death. Only one treasure cannot be stolen, inflated, or burned away. The life of God within you.

So the question is not, “How much do I have?” The question is, “What have I chosen?” Each day you are voting with your time, your money, your attention, your love. You are declaring which kingdom you belong to.

Choose God. Choose the Cross when comfort would make you small. Choose goodness when temptation offers the easier road. Choose sacrifice when selfishness feels justified. For in losing the world, you do not become empty. You become free. And a free soul is richer than any empire.