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The late Billy Graham once offered a profound and overlooked observation about human behavior and personal development when he said, “If a person gets his attitude toward money straight, it will help straighten out almost every other area of his life.”
This wasn’t just a passing comment—it was a statement loaded with wisdom, earned through years of spiritual counseling, global ministry, and personal experience. Graham understood something that many of the so-called “great philosophers” of history never quite managed to articulate so simply: money, and more importantly, our relationship to it, is deeply connected to our overall well-being.
Interestingly, many ancient thinkers held radically different views. Take Plato, for example. One of the most influential philosophers in Western history, Plato envisioned an ideal society in which private property was abolished. In his utopia, even spouses and children would be shared communally among the ruling class, because he believed personal ownership bred selfishness, division, and ultimately, societal decay. According to Plato, the root of human strife was material wealth, and the cure was collective ownership.
But there’s a paradox here. Plato himself was an aristocrat—born into wealth and privilege. While he preached the virtues of communal living and the rejection of private possessions, he never actually lived out those ideals. To do so would have meant surrendering his own comfort and status, which, unsurprisingly, he never did.
What Graham saw—and what Plato missed—is that the issue isn’t the existence of money or possessions, but rather our attitude toward them. Money can be a tool for good or a trap for ruin. When we approach it with wisdom, discipline, and purpose, it can bring clarity and stability to nearly every area of life: relationships, career choices, spiritual development, and personal peace. But when money becomes a source of fear, greed, or identity, it often brings chaos.
In a world filled with conflicting philosophies about wealth, Billy Graham’s insight cuts through the noise with refreshing simplicity. Getting your attitude about money right isn’t just good financial advice—it’s a principle for building a meaningful and balanced life.
Throughout history, many philosophers and religious figures have wrestled with the concept of money—some seeing it as a corrupting force, others as a tool to be used with restraint. But a few took their disdain for wealth to radical extremes. Their lives serve as cautionary tales and curious case studies about what happens when the pursuit of meaning leads to an outright rejection of economic life.
Take Diogenes the Cynic, for example. His mission wasn’t just to critique money—it was to obliterate it entirely. Exiled from his hometown of Sinope for literally defacing the currency, Diogenes arrived in Athens with a rebellious fire. He made it his life’s work to challenge societal norms, especially the materialism he believed corrupted the soul. Renouncing all possessions, he famously took up residence in a discarded wine barrel, begged for survival, and carried a lantern through the streets in daylight claiming to search for an honest man.
Diogenes believed that by embracing a life of extreme poverty and shamelessness, he was demonstrating true generosity and freedom. But his behavior was not only provocative—it was unsettling. He often performed degrading acts in public to make a point about human hypocrisy, and he once lamented that satisfying hunger wasn’t as easy as other bodily urges. Eventually, he took his own life, illustrating the tragic end of a philosophy that may have gone too far in rejecting the world’s complexities.
Then there was Epicurus, who offered a different kind of minimalist approach. Rather than public spectacle, he advocated for a life of subtle pleasure and absence of pain. He believed happiness was found not in lavish feasts or wealth, but in the quiet joy of simple needs being met. A glass of water, he argued, should bring more satisfaction than the richest wine. To desire beyond basic necessities was, in his view, a trap that led to suffering and anxiety.
Yet, like many thinkers before and after him, Epicurus lived a life that didn’t match his teachings. Despite advocating for simplicity, he was financially well-off, enjoying his philosophical discussions in the comfort of his own garden, shielded from the harsh realities his less privileged followers might have faced.
And then there’s Francis of Assisi—revered by many as a saint and spiritual hero, yet undeniably eccentric by any standard. Francis took a radical vow of poverty, rejecting not only wealth but the very idea of money. According to accounts, he once said he’d rather scoop dung from the street than handle a coin. His sermons were just as unconventional: he would sometimes strip off his clothing mid-message, imitate animals, and play the zither as a form of performance preaching.
Women reportedly locked their doors when he passed by, and townspeople often dismissed him as mad. Ironically, in today’s world, Francis is embraced by groups ranging from environmentalists to strict vegetarians—though he himself was not one. His theology taught that being despised by the world was a mark of true discipleship, mirroring the rejection Jesus endured. In his view, the more one was shunned, the closer they became to Christ.
Each of these figures—Diogenes, Epicurus, and Francis—offered profound yet deeply personal critiques of wealth, ownership, and desire. But when we look at their lives in full, a pattern emerges. Each sought to liberate themselves from the perceived chains of materialism, yet their extreme ideologies often led to contradiction, isolation, or tragedy.
Their stories stand in stark contrast to the more balanced wisdom of Billy Graham, who reminded us that the key is not to destroy or idolize money, but to approach it with clarity and discipline. Money, like power or influence, is neutral—it becomes good or bad based on our attitude toward it. When we “get our attitude toward money straight,” as Graham said, it becomes a foundation for ordering the rest of our lives—not something to be feared, worshiped, or abandoned altogether.
Long before the likes of Diogenes, Epicurus, or even Francis of Assisi offered their radical takes on wealth, materialism, and asceticism, King Solomon had already spoken wisdom on the subject—wisdom that continues to resonate across centuries. In the book of Ecclesiastes, he offers a refreshingly balanced view on life and possessions: “Prepare a meal for enjoyment, drink wine to make yourself merry, and remember that money is useful for everything. Just remember, God will bring everything to judgment to determine whether it is good or evil.”
Solomon wasn’t promoting reckless indulgence, nor was he advocating for a life of joyless austerity. Instead, he acknowledged that material things—when used properly—have value and purpose. He recognized that wealth, food, and even celebration can be good gifts, but their true worth lies in how they are held, not merely in how they are used. It’s a perspective rooted not in fear or fanaticism, but in reverence and responsibility. Enjoy what God has given you, Solomon says—but never forget that every action will be weighed and judged for its intent and impact.
This theme—one of balance and attitude—is echoed centuries later in the contrast between two well-known biblical figures: Jesus and John the Baptist. Jesus, who dined with friends, celebrated at weddings, and drank wine, was accused by his critics of being a glutton and a drunkard. Meanwhile, John the Baptist, who lived off the land, surviving on locusts and wild honey, was dismissed as a madman. Society condemned both men, not because of what they did or did not consume, but because they did not conform to its expectations. It wasn’t behavior alone that defined them—it was their attitude, their purpose, and the posture of their hearts.
As Billy Graham wisely observed, “If a person gets his attitude toward money straight, it will help straighten out almost every other area of his life.” That’s the crux of the issue—attitude. Not the balance in your bank account, but the balance in your soul.
John Lennox, Emeritus Professor of Mathematics at the University of Oxford and a respected voice on the intersection of faith and science, has similarly emphasized that human fulfillment isn’t found in either excess or deprivation. It’s not what we do or don’t do that brings lasting happiness. Rather, it all boils down to one thing: trust. A trust relationship—not with money or possessions, but with the Creator Himself.
Too many of history’s so-called “great philosophers” fell into the trap of believing that happiness was something they could earn, engineer, or buy—through discipline, logic, or even radical poverty. But the truth is far simpler and far more profound: God has nothing for sale. There is nothing we can purchase or perform to win His favor. What He desires from us is trust. And when we offer that trust—wholeheartedly—it changes everything.
Trust produces a new attitude within us. We begin to see that all things, including our money and material resources, are gifts—not trophies to be displayed or tools to control, but provisions meant to be stewarded. And how we manage these gifts—whether great or small—becomes a living measure of our gratitude.
Money, in itself, is neutral. It’s simply a material good. But what it becomes in your life depends entirely on how you hold it. It can be used to meet your needs, bless others, support noble causes, and advance good in the world. Or it can become a source of stress, greed, division, and even destruction. The difference lies in your attitude.
And when your attitude toward money is rightly aligned—when it’s informed by trust, guided by wisdom, and marked by gratitude—everything else in life begins to fall into place. It’s not about renouncing the material or obsessing over it. It’s about putting it in its proper place: as a servant, not a master. As a gift, not a god.
That, in the end, is the wisdom that stands the test of time.
And consider this proverb: “Do you see a man skilled in his work? He will stand before kings NOT before obscure men.”[ii]
Tomas P. McFie DC PhD
Tom McFie is the founder of McFie Insurance and co-host of the WealthTalks podcast which helps people keep more of the money they make, so they can have financial peace of mind. He has reviewed 1000s of whole life insurance policies and has practiced the Infinite Banking Concept for nearly 20 years, making him one of the foremost experts on achieving financial peace of mind. His latest book, A Biblical Guide to Personal Finance, can be purchased here.
[i] https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2013/01/14/rich-man-poor-man
[ii] Proverb 22.29