Sunday School Never Warned Me About Capitalism

Jesus flipped tables. We're still renting them from billionaires.

Here’s the thing:
Sunday school taught me how to fold my hands and memorize the books of the Bible.
It did not teach me how to recognize exploitation hiding behind a tax-deductible logo.

I learned about Jonah in a fish, not Jeff Bezos in a spaceship.
I learned about Zacchaeus the tax collector, but no one ever told me to ask why billionaires exist in a world where people are rationing insulin.

It wasn’t until much later (after rent checks that bounced, after friends got laid off for the crime of "getting sick," after watching loved ones work three jobs and still need food stamps) that I realized the American Dream was just capitalism in a Bible belt, humming “Amazing Grace” while emptying your pockets. Smiling big. Singing loud. And stepping on the poor in Jesus' name.

Capitalism Is Not a Beatitude

Capitalism tells you: earn your worth.
Jesus said: you already have it.

Capitalism says: only the strong survive.
Jesus said: blessed are the meek.

Capitalism says: climb the ladder, even if you have to step on a few folks along the way.
Jesus said: the last will be first.

If your economic system needs someone at the bottom to keep someone else at the top? That’s not divine. That’s a pyramid scheme with lobbyists.

And let’s be real clear: capitalism needs someone to be disposable. It needs underpaid workers, evicted families, and gig economy desperation to keep the machine running.

That’s not a flaw. That’s the design.

It’s like a potluck where only five people are allowed to eat, but everyone else has to keep bringing food or get kicked out of the building.

You need a bottom to have a top.
You need someone overworked so someone else can be "executive."
You need underpaid hands propping up overpaid egos.
And if the hands start asking questions? Well, that’s when the layoffs hit.

Capitalism doesn’t work unless somebody’s excluded.
It builds wealth by extracting labor.
It builds luxury by underpaying "essential workers."
It builds "opportunity" by fencing off resources and charging rent at the gate.

Let’s not pretend this is an “oopsie.”
It’s the blueprint.

It creates scarcity so folks stay desperate.
It creates competition so folks don’t unionize.
It creates shame so folks blame themselves instead of the system.

And if you push back, the system will baptize the exploitation in bootstraps and bumper-sticker theology: "God helps those who help themselves!"
Translation: "We’re fine letting people drown, just as long as they don’t splash too loudly."

But Jesus didn’t say, "Go therefore and monetize the poor."
He didn’t say, "Blessed are the shareholders."
He didn’t say, "Feed the hungry... if they’ve applied and qualified and filled out the dignity paperwork in triplicate."

If your system works best when people stay poor, stay scared, and stay quiet...
That’s not economics.
That’s empire in a seersucker suit, quoting Proverbs out of context.

The Church Got Comfortable in its Executive Chair

Now here’s where it stings a bit:
A whole lotta churches didn’t just bless this mess… they franchised it.

They started preaching hustle instead of hope.
They said poverty was a personal failing instead of a policy decision.
They built shiny sanctuaries with CEO salaries and called it "being blessed."

And Lord help us, they put fog machines in the sanctuary while folks outside couldn’t afford heat.

But Jesus didn’t charge for loaves and fishes.
He didn’t check credit scores before he healed people.
And he sure as heaven didn’t suggest trickle-down salvation.

If your church is more comfortable quoting Dave Ramsey than the Sermon on the Mount, you might want to check who’s really sitting on the throne.

The Margins Are Where Jesus Lived

Let’s get this straight: capitalism pushes people to the margins.

Jesus lived there.

He didn’t spend his time courting the rich and powerful. He disrupted their systems, broke their rules, and lifted up the ones they tried to ignore. And for that, the empire killed him.

He wasn’t crucified because he was too nice. 
He was crucified because he was too disruptive.
Too unapologetic about the sacredness of the poor.
Too threatening to the ones profiting off the suffering of others.

He kept showing up with good news for the folks the system forgot, and bad news for the folks who built the system.

Seriously, if Jesus had a PR team today, they’d beg him to tone it down and stay out of the comment section.

You Can’t Serve God and the Market

Capitalism has become our national religion.
It demands worship. It punishes heresy. And it rewards loyalty with stock options and "thoughts and prayers."

But Jesus never told anyone to invest in eternal returns or maximize kingdom efficiency. He told stories about lost sheep, buried treasure, unfair wages, and wild, impractical grace.

He told us to forgive debts.
To share our coats.
To feed folks who didn’t "earn" it.
To give away power, not hoard it.

He told us to flip tables when systems do harm.

So maybe it’s time we listen.

Or at least stop tithing to billionaires.

Pass the Offering Plate... of Justice

Here’s your altar call:
If your faith props up a system that relies on underpaid workers, evicted tenants, and "thoughts and prayers" instead of policy change...

It’s not Christianity.
It’s capitalism cosplaying faith.

And if your church is more interested in building capital campaigns than breaking chains?

You don’t need a bigger sanctuary.
You need a bigger theology.

Because Love doesn’t hoard.
Love doesn’t exploit.
Love doesn’t ask who deserves to eat.

Love feeds.
Love flips tables.
Love builds a world where no one gets left behind so someone else can get ahead.

And that, my friends, should’ve been lesson one in Sunday school.

And if it wasn’t?

Well. There’s still time to learn. And there’s work to do.

I’ll bring the casserole. You bring your boots.