The Hypocrisy of Wealth and Power Part 1
- Michelle Hayman

- May 13
- 29 min read
In the fifth century, as the Western Roman Empire weakened under invasion, corruption, and social decay, the presbyter Salvian of Marseille wrote one of the most severe moral critiques of Christian society in late antiquity: On the Government of God (De Gubernatione Dei).
Salvian sought to answer a question troubling many Christians of his time: if God governs the world with justice, why were Christian Roman lands collapsing while so-called “barbarian” nations were triumphing?
His answer was uncompromising. Rome, though outwardly Christian, had become morally diseased through greed, oppression, sexual immorality, judicial corruption, and hypocrisy. The disasters falling upon the empire were not signs that God had abandoned justice, but evidence that divine judgment was already at work. Even the barbarian peoples, whom Romans despised, sometimes appeared more virtuous than the Christians themselves.
What makes Salvian remarkable is not merely his criticism of society, but the intensity of his moral seriousness. He believed that God actively governs human history and that no nation, church, or people can claim divine favor while living in injustice and corruption.
The following chapters restate substantial portions of Salvian’s work in modern language while seeking to preserve the original meaning, tone, and theological force of the text.

Salvian writes:
“‘Love your enemies,’ said the Savior, ‘do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who mistreat and persecute you.’”
But who truly obeys these commands? Who is willing not only to tolerate an enemy, but genuinely to love him? Most people, even if they force themselves to speak kindly or offer a prayer for someone who has wronged them, do so only outwardly. Their words may sound righteous, but their hearts remain unchanged. Their lips pray, but inwardly they still cling to resentment.
To speak of every example of this would take too long. Yet one thing is clear: we do not merely fail to keep all of God’s commands — we scarcely keep any of them. This is why the apostle says, “For if a man think himself to be something when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself.”
Our guilt becomes even greater because, though we are filled with sin, we still imagine ourselves to be righteous and holy. Instead of repenting, we excuse ourselves. In this way our sins are multiplied by our false confidence in our own goodness.
“Whosoever hateth his brother,” says the apostle, “is a murderer.” From this we learn that murder is not committed only by the hand, but also by the heart. A person may never shed blood and yet still carry the spirit of murder within through hatred and bitterness.
Because of this, the Savior gave an even stricter warning: “Whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment.” Anger gives birth to hatred, and hatred leads to destruction. Christ therefore condemns even wrath itself, so that hatred may never take root.
If even anger places us under judgment before God, then who can claim innocence? Since no person is entirely free from anger, no person can honestly say they are free from sin.
Since we fail even in the most basic commands of Christ, how can we claim to follow His greater teachings? The Savior said, “Whosoever forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple.... And he that taketh not his cross and followeth after me, is not worthy of me.” Anyone who calls himself a Christian is meant to live as Christ lived.
Yet even those who seem to reject the world often do so only outwardly. Some give up wealth publicly while still clinging to pride, status, and recognition inwardly. Others carry the name of the cross in a way that brings them honor among men rather than suffering for God. Christ’s life was marked by humility, sacrifice, endurance, and obedience, but few are willing to walk that same path.
The apostles, however, did not place burdens on others that they themselves refused to bear. They endured greater hardships than those they taught, acting not as harsh rulers but as loving spiritual fathers. Paul especially became an example of true imitation of Christ. As Christ humbled Himself and suffered for humanity, Paul willingly suffered for Christ through labor, persecution, mockery, and hardship. Because he remained faithful through suffering, he could finally say: “I have fought a good fight, I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness.”
Privileged clergy differ greatly from this example. Rather than embracing humility and sacrifice, many seek comfort, influence, and public honor. Instead of carrying the burdens of others, they protect their own position and status. The apostles proved their faith through suffering and self-denial, but privileged religious leaders often desire the authority of Christ without sharing in His humility or His cross.
Christ commands His followers not to live in conflict and revenge. He teaches that peace is more important than protecting our pride or possessions. “If any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also.” Yet who truly lives this way? Instead of surrendering our rights for the sake of peace, most people fight fiercely even over small matters. We are not content merely to defend ourselves; often we seek to overcome, humiliate, or strip our enemies of as much as possible.
The Lord also says: “Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.” But how many people can hear these words without resisting them inwardly? Most do not endure one insult without returning many in return. Rather than practicing patience and mercy, people believe they have won only when they have struck harder than they were struck.
Christ taught us to care for the good of others as seriously as we care for ourselves, and the apostles followed this example through humility and self-sacrifice. Yet Christians rarely obey either Christ or His apostles in this matter. Instead of accepting inconvenience for the sake of others, we usually place our own comfort, advantage, and interests first, even when it causes hardship to those around us.
Some people do not want the greater commands of Christ discussed, perhaps because they believe they are at least keeping the smaller ones. Yet obedience cannot be divided so easily. Scripture says: “For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.” A person cannot claim righteousness by following a few lesser commands while ignoring the weightier demands of God.
But even if we speak only about the smallest commandments, it quickly becomes clear how poorly Christians obey them. Christ commanded that His followers should not swear falsely, yet many people lie and break their oaths without hesitation. He commanded that no one should curse, yet angry and hateful speech fills ordinary conversation.
Cursing and abusive speech are often the first expressions of anger. When people are offended, they immediately wish harm upon others, speaking evil against them because they cannot carry out their anger physically. In this way, the tongue becomes a weapon of hatred. Our words reveal what is already present within the heart: if people had the power, many would willingly do the harm they speak about in anger.
The fact that people speak this way so casually shows how lightly they regard the commands of God. Yet Scripture warns plainly: “Revilers shall not inherit the kingdom of God.” Evil speech is therefore not a small matter, but a serious sin capable of separating a person from the kingdom of heaven, even if outwardly the rest of his life appears respectable.
Christ commanded His followers to put away envy, yet envy fills even relationships between friends and fellow believers. People may restrain themselves in other desires, but jealousy, slander, and spite often have no limit. Hunger eventually passes, but bitterness against others continues endlessly. Scripture warns plainly: “The slanderous man shall be rooted out.” Yet even severe warnings do little to change people, because many are willing to endanger their own souls if it allows them to wound someone else with their words.
Slander harms not only the person being spoken against, but even more deeply the one who speaks it. Malice settles into the heart and slowly corrupts the soul from within. Scripture therefore says: “Let all clamor be put away from you, with all malice.” Angry speech may come and go, but malice often remains hidden in the heart long after words have ceased.
Christ also commanded purity not only in outward actions, but even in the desires of the heart. He said: “Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.” The Lord wished His followers to guard even their thoughts and eyes from corruption. Since the eyes are the entrance through which sinful desires enter the soul, Christ taught that impurity should be resisted at its very beginning before it takes root within the heart.
The purity Christ calls for is therefore inward as well as outward. Just as even a small speck of dust can cloud the eye, even small moral stains can darken the soul. Christ taught His followers to avoid not only great sins, but even the beginnings of them.
Yet who truly lives according to these commands? Who genuinely loves enemies, returns good for evil, refuses revenge, avoids slander, restrains anger, guards the tongue, and keeps the heart pure? Even the smallest commands are neglected by most people.
If this is true, then how can Christians complain against God? We ignore His commands, yet become offended when we think He has ignored our prayers. We refuse to listen to Him, yet expect Him always to listen to us. We scarcely lift our hearts toward heaven, yet complain that heaven seems distant from us. If our prayers are despised, it is because we ourselves first despised the commands of God.
Even if God treated us only as we treat Him, we would still have no right to complain. Scripture says: “I cried unto you and ye did not hear me: you too shall cry unto me and I shall not hear you.” There is justice in this. We ignore God, and then become troubled when we feel ignored by Him. We refuse to listen to His commands, yet expect Him always to answer our prayers.
And yet God is still far more merciful to us than we are faithful to Him. Human masters would never tolerate the contempt that people show toward God. A servant dishonors his master by neglecting his commands, but Christians go even further: they openly live contrary to what God has commanded.
God commands people to love one another, yet hatred and division fill human relationships. He commands generosity toward the poor, yet people greedily take from others instead of giving. He commands purity, yet many willingly surrender themselves to lust and immorality.
What is even more grievous is that these sins are found not only in the world, but within the church itself. The church should be the place where God is honored and His anger turned away, yet often it becomes a place where sin is tolerated openly. Aside from a small number who sincerely resist evil, many who call themselves Christians live no differently from the corrupt world around them.
Drunkenness, greed, sexual immorality, violence, dishonesty, and selfishness continue without shame or repentance. These sins are not occasional failures, but habitual ways of life. Salvian’s accusation is severe: the people who bear the name of Christ often dishonor Him more by their conduct than openly unbelieving people do.
Salvian argues that the moral condition of the church had become so corrupted that holiness was no longer measured by true righteousness, but simply by being slightly less sinful than everyone else. Many people showed greater respect toward earthly officials and rulers than toward the house of God itself. Men would never enter the courts or homes of powerful authorities carelessly or without reverence, yet they rushed into churches without fear of God, without humility, and without any desire to change their lives.
The problem was not that sinful people came to church, prayer and repentance should draw all people to God, but that many entered sacred places while fully intending to continue in the same sins afterward. They asked God for mercy with their lips while their hearts were already planning new acts of greed, lust, drunkenness, violence, or deceit. Their prayers became empty because they sought forgiveness without repentance.
Salvian describes this as a terrible contradiction: people mourned their sins inside the church only to leave and immediately return to the very same behavior. In many cases, he says, they were already planning future wrongdoing while standing in prayer. Their outward worship concealed inward corruption.
He then widens the criticism beyond the poor or lower classes. Corruption, he says, exists throughout society. Merchants are driven by fraud and dishonesty, officials by injustice and slander, soldiers by violence and greed. Sin had become woven into ordinary public life so deeply that many people no longer even recognized it as evil, but simply accepted it as part of their profession or social position.
The force of Salvian’s argument is that Christian society had become outwardly religious while inwardly corrupt. People honored religious forms while disregarding the moral transformation that true faith required.
He continues....
Some might argue that the nobles and powerful are not guilty of the corruption found among ordinary people. But even if a few escape these sins, they are only a tiny minority. And in truth, wealth and high social rank rarely protect people from moral failure.
Salvian points to the words of the apostle: “Hath God not chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which he hath promised to them that love him? But ye have despised the poor. Do not rich men oppress you by their power?” His argument is that the wealthy and influential often use their position not to serve others, but to dominate and exploit them.
In Salvian’s time, social status was almost entirely measured by wealth. The richest men were treated as the noblest men, and riches became the standard by which honor and power were judged. Yet outward rank did not produce inward virtue. Many who condemned evil publicly were privately practicing the very same sins themselves.
This hypocrisy especially angered Salvian. The powerful denounced corruption in others while secretly living in greed, immorality, and injustice. They acted as judges of sins they themselves committed. In condemning others, they unknowingly exposed their own guilt even more clearly.
Salvian argues that even among the wealthy and powerful, true innocence is extremely rare. The rich often excuse what they consider “lesser” sins as though privilege gives them freedom to live differently from ordinary people. Yet many are guilty not only of smaller moral failures, but of the gravest sins as well, violence, cruelty, sexual corruption, and lives stained by greed and impurity. Wealth and status do not make people righteous; in many cases they simply hide corruption beneath outward honor.
Even if someone claims to have abandoned such sins later in life, Salvian says this does not erase the reality of past wrongdoing. Repentance is good and necessary, but one person turning away from evil cannot cancel the widespread corruption of an entire society. Nor should anyone imagine that the righteousness of a few holy individuals can save a multitude who refuse to repent.
He points to the words of Scripture: “Though these three men, Noah, Daniel and Job, were in it, they shall deliver neither sons nor daughters, they only shall be delivered.” Even the holiness of the greatest saints could not rescue those who stubbornly continued in wickedness. Salvation cannot rest merely on association with righteous people, holy families, or even the church itself.
Salvian’s warning is that many Christians deceive themselves by relying on the name “Christian” while living in contradiction to Christ. A holy title is meaningless without a transformed life. In fact, the name becomes a greater judgment when people dishonor it through hypocrisy and continual sin.
By his time, Salvian believed corruption had spread through nearly every level of Christian society. Churches were filled with people who outwardly belonged to the faith yet inwardly continued in greed, lust, injustice, and violence. Rather than being protected by the Christian name, they increased their guilt because they sinned while claiming to belong to God.
Salvian argues that Christians should stop trusting in the mere privilege of bearing the Christian name, as though the title itself guarantees God’s favor. True faith is not simply claiming to believe in Christ, but obeying Him and living according to His commandments. A person who continually rejects Christ’s teachings cannot honestly claim to belong to Him. The Christian name without a Christian life is empty.
He compares this contradiction to a precious ornament placed in filth — something outwardly beautiful but dishonored by its surroundings. Scripture says: “As a jewel of gold in a swine’s snout, so is a fair woman which is without discretion.” In the same way, the name “Christian” becomes meaningless when attached to a corrupt and immoral life.
Salvian points to Israel as a warning. The Hebrews were once called the people of God, yet through disobedience and rejection of God they lost the honor of that identity. God said of them: “You are not my people and I am not your God.” Their sacred title could not save them when their lives contradicted the covenant they claimed to belong to.
He fears the same thing has happened among Christians. People continue to call themselves followers of Christ while openly disregarding His commands. Sin has become so common that society pursues evil almost in agreement, as though wickedness itself were a carefully planned policy.
Because of this, Salvian says Christians deceive themselves if they think the Christian name alone can protect them. Scripture teaches plainly: “Faith without works is dead.” Faith is not proven by words or outward identity, but by actions. A life without righteousness reveals a faith that is empty and lifeless.
He then points to the apostle’s severe warning: “Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble.” Mere belief in God is not enough, because even demons acknowledge God’s existence. The difference is that many Christians claim belief without reverence, obedience, or fear of God. In this sense, Salvian says, demons may show more consistency than sinful believers, because at least they tremble before the divine majesty they recognize.
Finally, Salvian explains that the suffering, weakness, and humiliation experienced by Christian society are not signs of God’s cruelty, but evidence of His justice mixed with mercy. Human sin deserves destruction, yet God still chooses to correct rather than utterly destroy. The punishments people endure are meant to discipline and awaken them before final judgment comes. Even in chastisement, Salvian sees the mercy of God, because God prefers to reform sinners through suffering rather than abandon them completely to ruin.
Salvian points out the deep hypocrisy within human nature, especially among those who complain about God’s judgment while harshly judging others themselves. People resent being corrected or punished by God for their sins, yet they readily punish servants and inferiors for far smaller offences. They demand mercy for themselves while showing severity toward everyone else.
He argues that human beings are naturally indulgent toward their own faults but ruthless toward the faults of others. People excuse themselves, deny their own guilt, and insist on their innocence, yet quickly condemn others for doing the very same things. This is why the apostle says: “Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man, whoever thou art, that judgest; for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things.”
His point is not merely to condemn the wealthy, but to expose human hypocrisy: people condemn harshly in the weak what they excuse easily in themselves. The poor sin under pressure and necessity, while the privileged often sin freely and willingly. Yet the privileged continue to act as judges over others while refusing to examine their own conscience. Salvian concludes that if anyone feels accused by these words, it is not merely his criticism condemning them, but their own conscience recognizing the truth.
Salvian describes a society in which the powerful enrich themselves by crushing the weak. Few poor people are truly secure, because wealth and political influence allow the strong to seize the property, freedom, and livelihood of those beneath them. Scripture says: “Wild asses are the prey of lions in the wilderness; so poor men are a pasture for the rich.” The poor become easy prey for the greed of the wealthy.
But this injustice extends far beyond isolated cases. Salvian argues that much of public office had become little more than organized exploitation. High positions of authority were often purchased through corruption, and once obtained, those offices were used to plunder provinces and oppress ordinary people in order to recover wealth and increase personal power. The honor enjoyed by a few powerful men came at the cost of widespread suffering among the population.
He points to devastated regions such as Spain, Africa, and Gaul as evidence of this corruption. Entire provinces had been ruined by greed, excessive taxation, and official abuse. Where some regions still survived, Salvian credits only the integrity of a small number of honest men who restrained the destruction caused by the many corrupt officials around them.
Returning to his main argument, Salvian asks how the nobles can condemn the sins of slaves while committing far greater evils themselves. The crimes of the powerful — exploitation, oppression, theft through authority, and destruction of entire communities — exceed the offences for which they harshly punish their servants. The ruling classes condemned “servile vices” in the poor while practicing far worse corruption under the protection of status and power.
Even when former slaves rose into noble positions, Salvian notes bitterly that many simply adopted the same corrupt behavior as the elite around them. His conclusion is that the evil lies not in social class itself, but in the corrupting misuse of power, wealth, and privilege.



No one knows the true total wealth of the Roman Catholic Church worldwide, though estimates for its global institutional property and assets often reach into the hundreds of billions of dollars; yet in many countries clergy and church institutions continue to receive various forms of tax exemption or preferential tax treatment.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven...” — Matthew 6:19–20.
To continue....
Salvian argues that the wealthy and powerful commit crimes with far greater boldness than slaves because they expect to escape punishment. Violence and even murder are common among the rich, yet their social position allows them to treat such acts as though they were exercises of authority rather than crimes. The same corruption appears in sexual immorality. Many noblemen openly violate their marriage vows, abusing servants and pursuing lust without restraint. Their wealth and status give them opportunities for excess that ordinary servants do not possess.
He describes a society where moral corruption has become so normal among the elite that even blatant impurity is excused or ignored. Some men maintain respectable marriages outwardly while secretly taking servants and servant women as concubines. In doing so, they dishonor both marriage and themselves, lowering their own dignity through uncontrolled lust.
Salvian insists that in some ways servants appear less guilty than their masters, not because servants are naturally righteous, but because they often lack the power and opportunity to commit the same scale of evil. The rich, however, sin freely while enjoying every advantage and privilege. Therefore their guilt is even greater.
He then turns to economic injustice and describes the Roman world as collapsing under crushing taxation and exploitation. The empire, already near death, is being strangled by the greed of the wealthy and the corruption of officials. Tax burdens fall overwhelmingly on the poor while the rich use influence and political power to protect themselves from obligation. Public “reforms” supposedly designed to help society instead increase the suffering of ordinary people while enriching those already powerful.
In Salvian’s view, the poor are literally being destroyed to preserve the comfort of the rich. The wealthy grow richer through reduced burdens, while the poor are crushed under taxes they cannot survive. What is called a remedy for society becomes a poison for the weak.
He also laments how deeply corrupt Christian culture had become. If a nobleman sincerely turned toward God, embraced humility, or pursued holiness, society immediately mocked him as weak or contemptible. Religion itself became associated with shame rather than honor. Goodness was ridiculed, while wickedness was admired and rewarded.
Salvian says this proves the world is filled with moral disorder. Evil people are praised as though they were virtuous, while righteous people are despised as though they were corrupt. As sin increases daily, suffering and judgment increase alongside it.
Yet even after all this, Salvian concludes that humanity still suffers less than it deserves. People accuse God of harshness while continually provoking Him through injustice, greed, lust, cruelty, and hypocrisy. God’s punishments are not acts of uncontrolled anger, but restrained acts of justice meant to correct a society that refuses to repent.
Salvian says that human sinfulness is so persistent that people almost force God to punish them. God is merciful and desires to spare humanity, yet people continually attack His mercy through their actions, as though laying siege to it with endless sins. Then, after provoking judgment through their own behavior, they accuse God of being harsh. In reality, people create the suffering that later falls upon them. By disobeying God’s commands, they become the authors of their own misery.
He uses the image of fire to describe sin. Scripture says: “Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that have added fuel to the flame; walk in the light of your fire and in the sparks that ye have kindled.” Humanity first lights the fire through sin, then feeds it by continuing in wickedness until finally it is consumed by the very destruction it prepared for itself. Sin grows gradually, hardening the heart until judgment becomes inevitable.
Salvian compares this to the destruction of Sodom and other wicked peoples in Scripture. Their ruin did not come suddenly or unfairly, but after long persistence in corruption. By continually adding evil to evil, they completed the “measure” of their sins and brought judgment upon themselves.
He then warns Christians not to imagine themselves safer simply because they bear the Gospel. Christ Himself declared that those who reject or neglect His teachings are in greater danger than Sodom. Salvian argues that Christians continually ignore the Gospel through greed, lawsuits, slander, drunkenness, lust, violence, and dishonesty. Worse still, many not only sin against others but openly speak against God Himself, questioning whether He sees or governs human affairs at all.
To deny God’s care for the world, Salvian says, is close to denying God Himself. It is irrational to believe that God created the world but abandoned it afterward. Even ordinary people care for what they build, cultivate, or love. Farmers tend their fields, shepherds protect their flocks, and even small creatures like ants and bees labor carefully for the future. If God placed such care within creation, how much greater must His own care be for the world He made?
Salvian insists that all human love ultimately reflects the love of God. The affection parents feel for their children exists because God first loved His creation. And God’s love surpasses even the greatest human love, because “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son.” Christ died not for the righteous, but for sinners and the undeserving. This reveals the immense mercy and patience of God toward humanity.
Because of such love, Salvian says Christians owe God not merely words or outward religion, but lives marked by devotion, sacrifice, and love in return. Yet instead of gratitude, humanity responds with corruption, blasphemy, impurity, violence, and continual rebellion. People even accuse God of cruelty while they themselves persist in evil.
When some ask why Christians suffer defeat, weakness, and humiliation before barbarian nations, Salvian answers that these sufferings are deserved. A corrupt people cannot expect divine protection while openly despising God’s commands. In fact, if such wickedness were continually rewarded with prosperity, that would suggest injustice. The hardships of Rome prove instead that God still judges human actions.
Finally, he challenges the belief that Christians are morally superior to the barbarians. Christians should be better because they possess the Gospel and claim the holy name of Christ. But when Christians live in the same sins — or worse sins — than those outside the faith, their guilt becomes greater precisely because they sin against greater knowledge and higher calling. The more sacred the profession, the more serious the hypocrisy when life contradicts it.
Salvian acknowledges that many Christians would find it offensive to hear themselves described as worse than the barbarians. Yet he argues that refusing to admit the truth only deepens the problem. People should judge themselves not by pride or self-image, but by their actions. Scripture says: “For if a man think himself to be something when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself.” True judgment comes from conduct, not from titles or assumptions of superiority.
He explains that Christians are indeed superior to the barbarians in one sense: they possess the true faith and the teachings of Christ. But in moral conduct many Christians behave even worse than those they condemn. Their greater knowledge and higher calling make their sins more serious. To possess a holy law while living an unholy life only increases guilt.
Salvian compares Christians with various barbarian peoples and openly admits that many barbarians are violent, greedy, deceitful, or immoral. Yet he insists that ignorance lessens their guilt to some degree. Pagans and heretics often sin without fully understanding the law of God. Christians, however, know the commandments and still deliberately violate them. Their sin therefore contains not only wickedness but contempt for God.
This is why Christian hypocrisy troubles Salvian so deeply. People claim to worship Christ while constantly dishonoring His name through dishonesty, greed, lust, violence, and false oaths. Many casually swear “by Christ” in ordinary speech, even while lying, cheating, threatening violence, or planning evil. The name of Christ, which should inspire reverence, had become little more than a meaningless expression on the lips of corrupt people.
Salvian gives the example of a wealthy man who justified stealing a poor man’s property because he had sworn in Christ’s name to take it. Instead of feeling shame, the man believed himself religiously obligated to complete the injustice because of his oath. For Salvian, this reveals the terrifying depth of moral blindness: people commit crimes in Christ’s name while imagining themselves righteous.
He argues that such behavior is worse than pagan ignorance. A barbarian who swears falsely by false gods sins in ignorance, but Christians swear falsely by the name of the living God whom they claim to know and worship. The greater the holiness of the name, the greater the guilt of abusing it.
Ultimately Salvian’s point is that Christians cannot claim moral superiority simply because they possess the Gospel. If their lives contradict the faith they profess, their hypocrisy makes them more blameworthy than those outside the faith. The holiness of Christianity becomes an accusation against Christians themselves when they continue in corruption while bearing the name of Christ.
Christians possess the true faith, the Scriptures, and the law of Christ, and in this sense they are far more privileged than pagan nations. Yet this privilege becomes a source of greater guilt when their lives openly contradict the truths they claim to believe. The goodness of the Christian law does not excuse Christians who live wickedly; rather, it condemns them more severely because they knowingly violate what they confess to be holy.
He distinguishes between those outside the law and those living under it. Pagans often act in ignorance because they do not know the commandments of God. Christians, however, read the Gospel, hear the apostles, and still trample God’s commands underfoot. This is why the apostle says: “Where no law is, there is no transgression.” Ignorance does not make pagan sin righteous, but deliberate disobedience makes Christian guilt heavier.
He points out that barbarian peoples may indeed be violent, greedy, drunken, deceitful, or immoral, yet they often sin without understanding the full seriousness of their actions before God. Christians sin while fully aware of the truth. The barbarian does not despise a law he has never known; the Christian knowingly scorns the law he reads and professes to honor.
This hypocrisy causes the name of Christ itself to be mocked among unbelievers. Scripture says: “For the name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles through you.” Christians were commanded to let their light shine before the world, yet instead their conduct often gives others reason to despise Christianity itself.
He imagines the accusations pagans could make against Christians: they read the Gospel yet live in impurity; they listen to the apostles yet live in drunkenness and greed; they claim to follow Christ yet practice violence, dishonesty, and corruption. Because of this contradiction, outsiders begin to judge Christ by the behavior of those who bear His name.
He also reflects on the terrible rumors pagans once spread about Christians — accusations of murder, incest, and monstrous rituals. Though these accusations were false, he argues that Christians themselves have contributed to the dishonor of God’s name through their corrupt lives. People who “profess that they know God, but in works deny him” bring shame upon the faith they claim to follow.
To show how serious this is, he points to King David. Even after David repented, God still punished him because his sin had given God’s enemies an opportunity to blaspheme. A private sin harms the sinner, but public hypocrisy causes others to speak evil against God Himself, making the offence far more serious.
He insists that Christians become worse than pagans precisely because they should be better. A holy name combined with an evil life becomes a greater condemnation. Christ warned the lukewarm believer: “Because thou art lukewarm, I will spue thee out of my mouth.” Open unbelief at least contains ignorance, but half-hearted Christianity combines knowledge with disobedience.
This is why the apostles say that those who know the truth and then return to corruption are like “the dog is turned to his own vomit again, and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.” Christians who return willingly to sin after receiving the knowledge of God place themselves in a worse condition than before.
He anticipates an objection from those who might argue that if Christians are judged more severely because they know the truth, then ignorance seems better than knowledge. His answer is that the problem is not the truth itself, but the corruption of human behavior. The law of God is good and life-giving; it becomes a source of condemnation only when people knowingly refuse to obey it.
He compares this to a sick patient blaming a physician while refusing to follow the prescribed treatment. The fault lies not in the medicine, but in the patient’s refusal to obey the doctor. In the same way, the divine law is meant to heal and guide, but people poison themselves through their own sins while accusing God’s commands of being burdensome.
He then turns to the question of heretics among the barbarian nations. Some might say that heretics possess the Scriptures and therefore deserve the same condemnation as corrupt Christians. Yet he argues that many of these peoples inherited distorted teachings from their ancestors and teachers. Their errors arise more from ignorance and misguidance than from deliberate rebellion against God. They believe sincerely that they are honoring God rightly, even when they are mistaken.
In this sense, he says, their guilt differs from that of Christians who know the truth and still despise it through their actions. God may therefore show patience toward them because their errors come from ignorance and misguided devotion, whereas Christians sin knowingly and willingly.
He continues by arguing that Christians knowingly oppose the very God they claim to worship. They read the law, praise it publicly, and yet violate it daily through greed, injustice, and hypocrisy. Meanwhile many heretics and barbarians, though mistaken in doctrine, often display greater moral discipline and mutual loyalty than the Romans themselves.
He especially praises the sense of unity and affection found among barbarian peoples. Members of the same tribe often love and support one another, while Romans are consumed with jealousy, rivalry, and resentment even toward family members. Instead of rejoicing in another person’s good fortune, many Romans see another’s success as a personal injury.
He describes Roman society as dominated by exploitation. Powerful men enrich themselves through taxation, corruption, and legal oppression. Public office has become organized robbery. Widows, orphans, the poor, and humble believers are stripped of protection and treated as prey by the wealthy and influential. Entire communities are exhausted by endless greed.
Even the clergy, he laments, often fail to resist these injustices. Many remain silent out of fear or caution because they know the powerful despise the truth and retaliate against those who speak openly. As a result, evil continues unchecked while the weak suffer.
The situation becomes so desperate, he says, that many Romans flee to barbarian territories seeking mercy and safety. They prefer life among foreign enemies to life under Roman oppression. In one of his most painful conclusions, he declares that people seek “Roman mercy” among the barbarians because they can no longer endure the “barbarous mercilessness” of Rome itself.
Salvian describes how many Romans began fleeing to the very peoples they once despised. Though the customs, language, and way of life among the barbarians were strange to them, they preferred that hardship to the injustice they suffered under Roman rule. They would rather live as free people among foreigners than as captives under the appearance of Roman liberty.
The name “Roman citizen,” once prized and honored, had become something many wished to escape. This alone shows how deeply Roman injustice had corrupted society. When noble and respectable people no longer want to be Romans, the fault lies not with them, but with the cruelty and oppression that drove them away.
He then speaks of the Bagaudae, oppressed people who had been stripped, crushed, and driven into rebellion by corrupt officials. They were called criminals and rebels, but he insists that Roman injustice had made them so. Wicked magistrates, extortion, and brutal taxation forced them into desperation. They were not allowed to live as Romans, so they became what Rome accused them of being.
The same oppression weighed on the poor everywhere. Many longed for freedom but lacked the strength or means to escape. Tax collectors were often more feared than enemies. The poor were forced to pay unbearable levies, while the rich shifted their own burdens onto them. In this way, the weak carried the weight of the strong, and those who had almost nothing were treated as though they had wealth.
Even when relief was granted, the injustice continued. Remedies meant for all were taken by the rich, while the poor, who suffered most under taxation, received nothing. They were counted when burdens had to be imposed, but forgotten when help was distributed.
This is why he argues that Rome deserves God’s judgment. Other nations may have many sins, but this particular cruelty, the organized exploitation of the poor by the powerful, was especially Roman. Among some barbarian peoples, even Romans living under their rule were spared such oppression. This is why many Romans prayed never to return to Roman authority.
Those unable to flee often placed themselves under the protection of powerful landowners. But this protection usually came at a terrible price. The poor surrendered their property to patrons in exchange for temporary safety. Parents might gain protection, but their children were left with nothing. What was called patronage became another form of robbery.
Worse still, many lost their land but remained responsible for the taxes on it. They no longer possessed their inheritance, yet still had to pay for it. Stripped first by private greed and then crushed by public demands, they were driven into poverty, dependence, and even servitude.
He compares this to a kind of transformation: free people who entered the estates of the rich were gradually treated as property. Men born free became like slaves. And so he asks: why should Rome be surprised when barbarians take Romans captive, when Romans have already enslaved their own brothers?
In the end, he sees Rome’s suffering as divine justice. The people are now experiencing the very cruelty they once inflicted on others. They showed no mercy to the vulnerable, and now they find themselves vulnerable. Yet even this punishment is less than they deserve. God chastens them not to destroy them completely, but to bring them to repentance. As Scripture says: “Dost thou not know that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance? But after thy hardness and impenitent heart thou treasurest up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath.”
Salvain says that humanity continually stores up judgment against itself. God calls people to repentance and offers mercy, yet instead of turning back, they keep adding sin upon sin. By their actions they almost force divine judgment upon themselves. God is just and merciful, but human wickedness becomes so relentless that punishment itself appears necessary.
He then reflects on how rare true repentance really is. Many people continue in their sins until death, carrying their corruption with them to the grave. Worse still, this hypocrisy is not limited to ordinary laypeople. Even some who outwardly appear religious or holy merely change their clothing and reputation while keeping the same corrupt hearts. They adopt the appearance of sanctity without abandoning greed, pride, or exploitation.
Some men, he says, publicly repent and gain a reputation for holiness, yet afterward pursue even greater power, wealth, and influence than before. Their conversion becomes only another means of worldly advancement. In outward form they seem changed, but inwardly they remain attached to the same ambitions.
He especially condemns those who boast of religious discipline while continuing in injustice. Certain men abstain from lawful relations with their wives in the name of holiness, yet at the same time steal from others, oppress the poor, and seize property through greed. They reject what is lawful while embracing what is sinful. Such behavior, he says, is not conversion to God but a turning away from Him.
He mocks this false spirituality sharply: God forbade sin, not marriage. External acts of religion are worthless if a person still delights in cruelty, greed, and robbery. If such people cannot yet abandon every evil, he pleads with them at least to give up their greatest crimes and stop destroying those closest to them.
He then turns directly against wealthy oppressors who exploit even their own friends, dependents, and supporters. They betray the very people who trusted and honored them. He contrasts this behavior with the Goths, asking what barbarian would destroy his own companions and benefactors in such a way. In his view, some Romans have become morally worse than the very barbarians they despise.
Their greed is portrayed almost as a force of nature — like floods or wildfire — driving neighbors from their homes and stripping the poor of their land. Yet even after seizing everything possible, they can never satisfy their desire for more. Their craving for domination and possession has no limit.
Still, he points out that not all powerful men are like this. Some possess authority while remaining humble, honorable, and respected. He wishes there were many more such examples, believing that the virtue of a few righteous leaders might help heal society.
Toward the end, his tone becomes deeply personal and moral. He asks why people love greed, injustice, and robbery more than goodness. True greatness, he argues, is not found in overpowering others but in honor, humility, and charity. Even pagan wisdom recognized that human beings should be protected by goodwill and love rather than violence.
He concludes with a call to radical repentance. Anyone who wishes to become wise must abandon the old self entirely. A person must renounce wickedness, humble himself, and turn back to God. Christ says: “Whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.” Real safety and true life are found not in greed, power, or domination, but in surrendering oneself to God and rejecting the corrupt desires that destroy the soul.
Questions:
If Christ commanded, “Do not store up treasures on earth,” why does the Vatican possess billions in wealth while countless people live in hunger, filth, and poverty?
At what point does preserving immense institutional wealth become indistinguishable from hoarding?
Can appeals to charity truly justify the accumulation of enormous riches by a church that claims to follow a homeless Messiah?
Why are clergy granted tax exemptions and financial privileges while ordinary people struggle to survive under economic burdens?
If church leaders are called “Princes of the Church,” how far has Christianity drifted from the carpenter of Nazareth?
Did the early apostles seek influence, wealth, political privilege, and magnificent courts — or did they embrace suffering, poverty, and service?
Why does religious splendor continue to expand while entire communities remain trapped in slums and starvation?
If the Church possesses enough wealth to preserve priceless treasures, why do so many human beings made in the image of God remain abandoned?
Has the institutional church become too intertwined with empire, wealth, and worldly power to resemble the faith preached by Christ and the apostles?
Would the prophets, the apostles, and Christ Himself recognize modern ecclesiastical luxury as faithfulness — or as the very hypocrisy they condemned?



Comments