An Ancient Teaching on Wealth, Responsibility, and the Boundaries of Faith
An ancient teaching and biblical reflection on wealth, social responsibility, pastoral ethics, and growth in Christian life.
By Paul Zhang
An Ancient Teaching on Wealth, Responsibility, and the Boundaries of Faith
By Paul Zhang
Recently, I watched a video discussing the well-known television host Yang Lan selling products through livestreaming. It prompted me to think about wealth and social responsibility.
I have long admired Yang Lan. Her learning, eloquence, poise, and achievements in the media industry have left a lasting impression on me.
Today, as livestream commerce expands, more celebrities are entering livestream studios and selling products through their fame and influence. In itself, this is entirely ordinary. Some people possess fame, others capital, and still others technology. Provided they obey the law, why should their participation in the market be condemned?
Yet the video quoted an ancient saying that stayed with me:
“A household entitled to harvest ice should not raise cattle and sheep.”
These few words raise a profound question: Just because someone can earn a certain amount of money, must that person seek to earn every last bit of it? Just because someone can travel down a road, must that person occupy every available path?
When we accumulate wealth, reputation, and social resources, should we also leave room for those struggling simply to survive?
As a pastor, I find myself asking another question. When we bring this discussion into the church, into everyday Christian life, and into the life of a minister, we must speak not only about moderation in wealth but also about moral boundaries.
Not every legal source of income is appropriate for a Christian; not every profitable activity is fitting for a pastor.
This is not merely an economic question. It is an ethical one. It concerns not only how we acquire wealth but also how we understand responsibility—and ultimately what we live for.
The Great Learning, preserved in the Book of Rites, records these words of Meng Xianzi, a nobleman of the ancient state of Lu:
“A household with horses and carriages does not concern itself with chickens and pigs; a household entitled to harvest ice does not raise cattle and sheep; a household with a hundred chariots does not employ officials who amass wealth through exactions.”
These words arose within a particular social hierarchy and historical setting. A household with horses and carriages possessed considerable means. The privilege of cutting and storing ice for ritual use belonged to elite households. A household with a hundred chariots represented substantial political and economic power.
Meng Xianzi was not saying that wealthy people must never create more wealth. Rather, those already enjoying exceptional resources and status should not continually compete with ordinary people for every small livelihood, much less enrich themselves through exploitative accumulation.
The teaching points toward a social ethic worth recovering:
The more resources a person possesses, the greater the need to restrain desire and accept responsibility proportionate to one's position.
Of course, we need not reproduce ancient class distinctions. Modern societies rightly value open competition and the freedom to conduct lawful business. Rich and poor alike should be free to pursue a better life.
Still, the ancient reminder about wealth and restraint deserves attention. Society needs more than competition: it also needs compassion. It needs more than efficiency: it also needs fairness. It needs more than the maximization of private gain: it needs a shared moral order.
A healthy society should not merely allow the powerful to become more powerful. It should also give those with fewer advantages a genuine opportunity to change their circumstances. Those most worthy of respect do more than create wealth for themselves; they make room for others to flourish.
We live in an intensely commercialized age. Online attention can be monetized. Knowledge can be monetized. Reputation can be monetized. Even the trust between people can become a business asset.
Increasingly, the ability to make money seems to have become a principal measure of success. The more an individual earns, the more successful that person appears. The larger a company's market share, the more admiration it attracts.
But I have come to question this way of thinking.
The ability to make money is not the same as wisdom in handling money; an increase in wealth is not necessarily an increase in the value of one's life.
A person may earn enormous sums without knowing how to use them well. A company may dominate a market without creating value proportionate to its power. Someone may win repeatedly in business while gradually losing sensitivity to other people's struggles.
Today, large platform companies with abundant capital, advanced technology, and massive online reach compete not only in high-tech industries but also in the everyday markets on which ordinary people depend. From neighborhood retail to household services, online sales, and small traditional businesses, the influence of capital and technology is nearly everywhere.
We should not assume that a large company entering a small market is automatically wrong. Innovation may reduce costs, improve services, and give consumers better products.
Nevertheless, important questions remain. When a company possesses far more capital, data, technology, and visibility than a small operator, should it exercise its advantages with special care? When competitors' resources are radically unequal, what protections are necessary for fair competition? When profits become increasingly concentrated while small operators struggle to survive, how should we think about the creation and distribution of wealth?
I am not against wealth or competition. My concern is that when profit becomes the only objective, we forget that wealth should serve human life, not the other way around.
Not every profit is worth pursuing. Not every market must be conquered. Not every available advantage must be claimed.
Knowing when not to act can matter more than knowing how to succeed.
As a Christian, I often reflect on how Scripture understands wealth. The Bible does not simply treat possessions as evil. Abraham owned substantial flocks and property. Job was wealthy. Scripture tells of many people who possessed resources while fearing God.
The central question is not merely how much someone owns. It is how that person understands possessions and what place they occupy in the heart.
Jesus says in Luke 12:48:
“From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”
Jesus spoke these words in teaching about faithful stewardship. The principle is clear: greater gifts bring greater accountability. This applies not only to money but also to knowledge, ability, authority, position, and influence.
Those with knowledge should use it to help others. Those with authority should exercise it carefully. Those with wealth should ask how it might become an instrument of blessing.
From a biblical perspective, we are not the ultimate owners of everything we possess. We are stewards of resources entrusted to us by God. Wealth is not something we may use without accountability. Wealth is a trust.
God gives resources not only to improve our own circumstances but also to equip us to bear greater responsibility.
The world often asks, “How much do you have?” Faith asks, “How do you use what you have?” The world asks, “What can you gain?” Faith asks, “What can you give?” The world sees wealth as evidence of success. Scripture reminds us that it can also test our faithfulness and character.
Possessing wealth does not mean that we have fulfilled our purpose. On the contrary, greater wealth should lead us to examine more carefully how we respond to what has been entrusted to us.
If ancient Chinese wisdom teaches restraint to those with resources, Christian ethics adds another dimension:
Wealth calls not only for moderation but also for holiness. Earning money requires not only competence but also conscience.
We often hear the argument, “If it isn't illegal, why shouldn't I do it?” It sounds reasonable. But what the law permits is not necessarily what faith approves. Laws primarily protect public order. Christians must also examine their motives, actions, and effects on others in the light of Scripture.
Paul writes:
“I have the right to do anything,” you say—but not everything is beneficial. “I have the right to do anything”—but not everything is constructive. (1 Corinthians 10:23)
In context, Paul is discussing the exercise of Christian freedom and concern for others' consciences. He is not suggesting that all actions are morally permissible. He calls believers to ask whether an action is beneficial, whether it builds others up, and whether it honors God.
Suppose a Christian runs a shop. Should that person sell products specifically intended for idol worship, divination, fortune-telling, or rituals promising supernatural protection and prosperity?
Such products may be profitable. Yet when their primary purpose is to facilitate practices contrary to Christian worship, believers should not deliberately market or promote them for financial gain. Scripture warns against idolatry and divination (Deuteronomy 18:10–12; 1 Corinthians 10:14).
We must, of course, distinguish an object sold as cultural art or a historical collectible from one sold expressly as an instrument of religious or occult practice. The question is not simply what an item is called, but how it is used, why it is sold, and whether the seller is actively promoting conduct inconsistent with Christian faith.
The same principle applies to deception. Christians should not become wealthy by false advertising, exploiting fear, or taking advantage of another person's vulnerability. Imagine knowingly exaggerating a product's effectiveness, concealing serious investment risks to earn a commission, or participating in a business model built on manipulation and exploitation. Even if such conduct escapes legal punishment, that does not make it acceptable Christian work.
Proverbs 11:1 teaches:
“The LORD detests dishonest scales, but accurate weights find favor with him.”
God cares not only about how we worship but also about how we trade. A person may sing, pray, and give offerings in church, yet seriously compromise Christian witness by cheating customers, exploiting workers, or breaking promises in business.
Christian integrity belongs not only inside the church building but also in every contract, every transaction, and every paycheck.
Authentic faith does not separate Sunday devotion from Monday commerce. It brings all of life under the guidance of God's Word.
This discussion also turns my attention toward pastors themselves. I know deeply that pastoral ministry is more than an occupation. It is a sacred calling and a trust.
Pastors need to live and have responsibilities to their families. Scripture does not require every pastor to be poor. Paul writes:
“The Lord has commanded that those who preach the gospel should receive their living from the gospel.” (1 Corinthians 9:14)
It is biblically appropriate for churches to support their pastors. Depending on their circumstances, ministers may also engage in suitable work. Paul himself made tents to support his livelihood. Having an additional source of income does not automatically make a pastor unspiritual.
Nevertheless, pastoral office carries particular responsibility. First Peter 5:2 exhorts church leaders:
“Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care, watching over them—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve.”
Consider a pastor who has a pulpit, the trust of a congregation, and relationships built through years of pastoral care. Should those spiritual resources be converted casually into commercial traffic?
Suppose a minister becomes a livestream salesperson, continually recommends products to church members, and receives commissions from their purchases. Such activity may be lawful. But pastorally, it demands much greater caution.
The relationship between a pastor and a congregation is not an ordinary relationship between seller and customer. People trust a pastor because they believe that person faithfully teaches God's Word and cares for their spiritual growth—not because the pastor is a talented salesperson.
If a minister repeatedly uses that trust to promote products, or if members feel pressured to buy because they respect their pastor, spiritual relationships may be distorted by commercial interests.
The one thing a pastor should never put up for sale is the congregation's trust.
This is why I believe pastors should be especially cautious about copying celebrity livestream-selling models. Above all, they should not turn the pulpit, pastoral relationships, or the church community into personal sales channels.
This does not mean pastors are categorically prohibited from all business activity. It means they must discern their calling, duties, and the consequences of their actions with unusual care.
Pastors may write books, teach, perform work consistent with Scripture, and receive appropriate compensation. But they must not treat the church as a market, members as customers, or spiritual influence as an asset to be monetized at will.
First Timothy 3:3 includes freedom from the love of money among the qualifications for church overseers. This does not deny ministers' financial needs. It insists that money must not control them.
If a pastor becomes increasingly absorbed in online reach, income, and commercial influence while paying less attention to preaching, prayer, visitation, and disciple-making, then even a growing enterprise calls for serious self-examination. Has the original calling been displaced?
A pastor's worth is not measured by earnings, but by faithfulness in shepherding the flock entrusted by God.
In discussing the ethics of wealth, we must avoid the opposite extreme. Some may conclude that Christians should never be wealthy or that pastors should never earn additional income. That is not the Bible's full teaching.
First Timothy 6:10 warns:
“For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.”
The warning concerns the love of money, not money itself. Wealth can become a temptation, but it can also become a blessing. The same resources might fuel endless appetite or support struggling families, education, widows and orphans, and gospel ministry.
The question, then, is not only how much we earn but what we are willing to sacrifice in order to earn it. Would we sacrifice honesty for gain? Harm others for profit? Abandon convictions for money? Neglect family and church for commercial success?
If so, even an entirely legal business should prompt spiritual examination. When a person is willing to surrender every principle for profit, money has effectively become that person's master.
Jesus says:
“No one can serve two masters ... You cannot serve both God and money.” (Matthew 6:24)
Here money, or mammon, represents wealth treated as a master and ultimate source of security. Christians may possess wealth, but wealth must not possess their hearts. We may work hard without making income life's supreme goal. We may pursue success without sacrificing truth, conscience, or love.
Wealth may be a tool in our hands, but it must never become the god of our hearts.
Paul writes in 1 Timothy 6:17–18:
“Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share.”
These verses deserve careful reflection. Paul does not command every wealthy person to abandon possessions, nor does he deny that God's gifts may be enjoyed. Instead, he warns against arrogance and placing ultimate hope in wealth. Those with resources should be rich in good works and willing to share.
This vision differs sharply from consumerism. Consumer culture tells us that wealth means possessing, enjoying, and acquiring more. Scripture reminds us that wealth also finds meaning in giving, sharing, and helping others flourish.
A truly prosperous person can not only live comfortably but also help others through what he or she possesses. A successful company should consider not only profits but also dignified employment and the families whose lives improve through its work. An influential person should ask not merely how many followers they have, but how many people have grown because of their help.
I increasingly believe this:
The finest use of wealth is not to prove that we possess more than others, but to help more people live better lives.
This does not require the wealthy to withdraw from the market. Responsible ethics does not abolish competition; it rejects unjust competition. It does not condemn profit; it refuses to place profit above human dignity.
We do not need a society in which the strong are forbidden to develop. We need one in which their development can also help the vulnerable grow.
Over the years, I have lived in different circumstances and met people from many walks of life. I know that life is not equally easy for everyone.
Some are born into families that can provide excellent education, influential connections, and abundant opportunities. They may begin life at a point that others cannot reach even after decades of effort.
Others must struggle to earn a living from an early age. They have neither powerful connections nor substantial capital nor a platform that effortlessly attracts attention. They may own only a small shop, a delivery vehicle, a practical skill, or a job requiring exhausting physical labor.
For someone already wealthy, a modest amount of income may be little more than a change in an account balance. For a family living on the proceeds of a small business, the same amount may mean school fees, medical bills for aging parents, next month's rent, or the hope of making it through another month.
We must not forget those still walking difficult roads simply because we ourselves have traveled far. Nor should we assume that every opportunity belongs to us merely because we have the resources to claim it.
A mature society should allow honest workers to receive fair rewards and people with fewer resources to see a genuine possibility of advancement.
Those with advantages should therefore consider how to create new opportunities, not merely how to extract more from existing ones. Those with capital can invest in innovation, nurture industries, and support small businesses. Those with knowledge can share experience, train others, and help the next generation. Those with public influence can speak for people whose voices are rarely heard and draw attention to excellent products and services that might otherwise remain invisible.
Influence is most valuable not when it draws every eye toward ourselves, but when it helps those previously unseen to be seen.
If wealth accumulates among a few while more and more people lose hope of improving their lives, rising economic figures alone do not prove that society is healthy. Prosperity should not belong only to a minority.
What we should seek is a society in which honest work brings dignity, fair competition offers opportunity, and cooperation creates a future that more people can share.
Chinese tradition has long reflected on the relationship between righteousness and gain. Confucius says in the Analects (4:16):
“The gentleman understands what is right; the petty person understands what is profitable.”
This does not mean that a person of character needs no livelihood or must never benefit materially. It means that profit cannot be our only measure of what is worth doing. We must also ask what is right.
If someone asks only whether an action is profitable, never whether it is just; only whether something can be obtained, never whether it should be obtained—then even great wealth may be accompanied by a loss of moral restraint.
Scripture asks a similarly searching question:
“What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” (Mark 8:36)
Jesus reminds us of the incomparable value of human life. Wealth can buy many things, but it cannot purchase genuine peace. It can expand our choices without ensuring that those choices are wise. It can grant status without making us worthy of respect.
True dignity is not measured by the size of one's fortune, but by how one treats those with less. True vision is not measured by the extent of one's market control, but by the opportunities one creates for others. True success is not merely climbing higher; it is helping others discover a way upward as we climb.
Here Chinese ethical reflection and Christian teaching on wealth can illuminate one another. The ancient teaching urges those with resources to practice restraint rather than accumulation without limit. Scripture goes further by calling us to answer faithfully for God's gifts and serve others in love.
Though their foundations differ, both challenge us to see that wealth cannot be separated from responsibility, power from morality, or success from concern for others.
Let me return to the question with which I began. I do not believe that celebrity livestream selling is inherently wrong. Whatever their social standing, people who obey the law and conduct business honestly have the right to participate in commerce. Used well, celebrity influence may even open markets for small producers and benefit ordinary workers.
We should not simplistically pit celebrities' business activity against the hardships of ordinary people. The deeper question is how we understand the limits of wealth and the responsibilities that accompany advantage.
When someone has abundant resources, are they still willing to consider others' needs? When a company becomes highly successful, will it help its partners grow? When society creates enormous wealth, will it preserve fair opportunities for people in difficult circumstances?
As Christians, we must ask still more: Does my income come from honest work? Is my business consistent with Scripture? Does my way of operating harm other people's lives or dignity? Is my wealth becoming a blessing to others?
As pastors, we must also ask: Does my ministry remain centered on Christ? Am I using the congregation's trust for personal gain? Am I still faithful to the pastoral calling God entrusted to me?
These questions matter far more than whether any particular celebrity should sell products online. They concern the society we hope to build and the people we hope to become.
I do not long for a society in which everyone must be poor, nor one that forbids the wealthy from creating more wealth. I long for a society that honors work, encourages innovation, protects fairness, and practices compassion. I also long for Christians to embody honesty, holiness, justice, and love in their workplaces.
In such a society, the strong need not be ashamed of success, and the vulnerable need not lose dignity because of hardship. The strong may continue to grow, but should not abuse their advantages. Those with fewer resources should be free to strive and have a fair chance to succeed.
Wealth may increase, but conscience must not shrink. Business may innovate, but society must not lose its humanity.
A truly great society is not one in which a few possess everything, but one in which more people possess hope.
As I finish writing, I return to the ancient words: “A household entitled to harvest ice should not raise cattle and sheep.”
More than two thousand years ago, people were already reflecting on the relationship between wealth and social responsibility. Today we possess technology, commercial systems, and material abundance beyond their imagination. Yet the questions within the human heart have hardly disappeared.
We still face choices between greed and restraint, profit and righteousness, personal success and responsibility to others. Perhaps a measure of maturity is not only what we can obtain, but also knowing when to hold back.
Not every profit must be pursued.
Not every road must be taken.
Not everything within our reach must be tightly grasped.
Sometimes we relinquish a potential gain not because we lack the ability to claim it, but because we recognize something more important than profit. Sometimes we leave a path open for others not because we are weak, but because genuine strength no longer needs to prove itself by pushing others aside.
May we possess wealth without losing conscience, achieve success without forgetting responsibility, and rise higher without ceasing to notice those who need help.
Every grace God gives us is meant for more than ourselves. Wealth is a trust. Ability is a trust. Influence is a trust. A faithful steward does not merely manage what has been received; a faithful steward learns how to turn those gifts into blessings for others.
May we finally understand:
What matters most is not how many roads we have traveled, but how many people have found a road forward because we were there.
Paul Zhang (张崇助)
October 30, 2026
Indianapolis, Indiana, USA
This essay reflects on the boundaries of wealth, business ethics, and pastoral responsibility through Chinese ethical tradition, social responsibility, and Christian teaching. References to public figures serve as points of departure for reflection, not as moral judgments on any individual's commercial activity.
Scripture quotations in this English edition follow commonly used NIV wording where quoted; the ancient Chinese text is translated for readability.
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