Saving on the Road to Salvation
The world’s great religious texts sometimes warn about money. The Gospel of Matthew, in the story of the Sermon on the Mount, quoted Jesus: “You cannot serve both God and mammon.”
But there is a practical side to Scripture. Matthew and the other Gospels also tell the story of Jesus feeding a crowd of thousands with a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish. Riches, no, but a man still has to eat.
That balance of spiritual and earthly needs is a point of deep soul searching for many people. And where better for such contemplation than a monastery — especially one that can’t pay its bills? Doug Lynam, once a Christian fundamentalist, a hippie and a United States Marine, eventually wound up at such a place when he became a Benedictine monk in NewMexico. He and the other two brothers there couldn’t handle their debt and declared bankruptcy.
“One of the worst things that has ever happened to me,” he told The Times.
But call it an awakening. He started to realize that visitors who brought spiritual problems to the monastery were often dealing with financial issues as well.
“So I would say, ‘I’ll pray for you, but let’s make a budget,’” he said. “Prayer and contemplation can help you take more mindful action.”
To Muslims like Nabeel Hamoui, the spiritual and material are inseparable. The Quran encourages saving for times of need, and Dr. Hamoui, a radiologist in Chicago, is among those who do so according to Islamic guidelines.
“I chose halal investing based on my religious beliefs, and try to remain in compliance with those beliefs,” he told The Times.
Such investing avoids companies dealing in products like alcohol, tobacco and pork, but the rules get more complex. Conventional banks are off-limits because they collect interest on loans, which is forbidden. Market strategies that can be seen as gambling are also out. Helping to guide the conscientious are groups like Malaysia’s Islamic Financial Services Board and Bahrain’s International Islamic Financial Market, which continually review companies, bonds and mutual funds to ensure they comply with Islamic law.
David Frankel’s faith informs not just his own finances but those of his clients. He is an ordained rabbi who started selling real estate, then eventually put all the training together and became a mortgage banker. Conversations with clients drift from money to meaning. Are they buying an escape from the world or a place to welcome others in? Are they stretching themselves too far to be as generous as they want?
But Mr. Frankel, of Philadelphia, avoids overt talk of religion. The company website doesn’t mention his rabbinical training, and he is not sure it would matter to clients. Abbey Tennis, a Unitarian minister who was buying a house with his help, thinks it would.
“Faith was his calling, or part of his calling,” she said. “If I’m going to choose anyone, his sounds like a pretty good pedigree for someone that I’m going to do business with.”
Perhaps that is the way people see Mr. Lynam, the monk. While at the monastery, he also had a job as a teacher, and began counseling his school colleagues on their financial trouble, specifically their retirement savings. Eventually he left both the school and the monastery, and now works for an asset-management firm.
His colleagues there include a Hindu nun and Buddhist chaplain. Financial need, it seems, is nondenominational.