You are not a commodity (A Christian Critique of All Economic Systems)

The story of humanity's fall in Genesis 3 is often recounted as the eating of forbidden fruit, a simple act of disobedience.

But the immediate aftermath reveals a deeper wound, the first tangible evidence of sin's corrosive effect: the sudden, piercing awareness of nakedness and the scramble for fig leaves. "And the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths." (Genesis 3:7).  

This wasn't merely a sudden discomfort with their physical bodies. Before the fall, they were naked "and were not ashamed" (Genesis 2:25). Their nakedness was a state of complete vulnerability, transparency, and openness to God and to each other.

It symbolized a relationship built on perfect love, trust, and mutual affirmation, a love that mirrors the unreserved giving and receiving within the Godhead itself. This "original shame" was the profound disruption of this original state of being.  

What shattered this seamless unity?

It was the entrance of objectification.

Sin twisted their gaze. Instead of seeing the other as a beloved subject, made in God's image, they began to see the other, and even themselves, as objects to be concealed from, feared, or potentially used.

The fig leaves were not just covering skin; they were the first clumsy attempt to hide the self, to build walls where there had been only open space.

This was the initial departure from the very nature of the love God breathed into humanity – a love intended to be reflected most intimately in the spousal union, a selfless giving of self without reserve or fear.

This corrupted vision also perverted humanity's intended "dominion" over creation.

God's command in Genesis 1:28 was to "fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion." But this was immediately clarified in Genesis 2:15, where humanity was placed in the garden "to work it and keep it."

The Hebrew words used here, avad (to work, serve, till) and shamar (to keep, guard, protect), define this original dominion not as exploitation or raw power, but as stewardship, cultivation, and caretaking.

Humanity was to be God's hands and feet in creation, an extension of His own benevolent, Trinitarian love that delights in bringing order and flourishing. Sin transformed this vocation of joyful service and care into burdensome toil and often, sadly, exploitation.  

Tragically, the echo of this original objectification resonates powerfully in the modern world. We live in societies increasingly shaped by utilitarian and capitalist frameworks, where there is a constant, subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) pressure to view each other, and even ourselves, as economic units.

We are valued according to our productivity, our tangible contributions to the market, our utility in achieving goals.

This tendency to "commoditize" human beings, to treat persons as resources or cogs in an economic machine, strips them of their inherent dignity.

This way of seeing is a direct descendent of that first blush of shame in Eden. It is a failure to see the other as image-bearer of God, inherently valuable not for what they do or produce, but for who they are.

When human value is measured primarily by economic output or utility, we fall into the same trap of objectification that Adam and Eve did when they first saw each other through the distorted lens of sin.

Mankind was not created for economic work in this transactional, commodifying sense. Our original "work" was about "tending the garden," a joyful participation in God's creative and sustaining activity.

From a theological perspective, this modern commoditization is a manifestation of sin's ongoing power to turn us inward (incurvatus in se). We relate to others and creation not in outward-poured love that affirms their God-given being, but in a self-serving calculation of what they can do for us, what they contribute to our comfort, success, or system.

This is a profound denial of our creation in God's image – an image of being in relation, in community, reflecting the Triune God's outward-poured love.

Reading the critique of commoditization – the reduction of persons to economic units, the alienation from meaningful "work" – it might strike some as sounding remarkably like Marxist analysis. And in a limited sense, there is a point of contact. Karl Marx, observing the dehumanizing conditions of industrial capitalism, rightly identified a profound problem: the alienation of human beings from their labor, from the fruits of their work, from one another, and ultimately from their own nature.

He saw that people were being treated less as persons and more as cogs in a machine, valued only for their utility in the process of production. This diagnosis resonates with our understanding of the distortion of God's original design for humanity, where "working and keeping the garden" was meant to be a joyful expression of our being, not a means of alienation or self-loss.  

However, while Marx may have correctly identified a symptom of humanity's fallen condition – the alienation and commoditization stemming from the "original shame" – his prescribed solution missed the mark entirely. In fact, the socialist and communist systems derived from his thought, despite their stated goals of liberation, often perpetuated a different, but equally insidious, form of objectification and idolatry.

Marxist solutions tend to locate the source of salvation and ultimate meaning within human history and human systems, particularly the state or the revolutionary collective. They seek to perfect society through political and economic restructuring, believing that human flourishing can be achieved by controlling the means of production and abolishing class distinctions.

In this framework, the collective human endeavor, the state, or the unfolding historical process itself becomes the great "justifier," the power that will right all wrongs and restore dignity. This is where the critical theological divergence occurs.  

From a Christian perspective, placing ultimate hope and the power of justification in any created system – be it the capitalist market or the socialist state – is a form of idolatry.

Both systems, in their ultimate form, are expressions of human power and human wisdom, tainted by the very sin they seek to overcome.

The capitalist temptation is to idolize wealth, productivity, and the individual's place within the economic hierarchy, leading to the commoditization we've discussed. The Marxist temptation, conversely, is to idolize human collective action, the state, or a future utopian society, often leading to the suppression of individual dignity and freedom for the sake of the perceived good of the collective or the party.

Both systems, in their fallen state, risk reducing the person, either to an economic unit or to a component of the state machine.

Neither thoroughgoing capitalism nor thoroughgoing Marxism can provide the ultimate answer because neither addresses the root of the problem: the brokenness of the human heart and the fractured relationship with God that stems from the "original sin" and its accompanying "original shame."

Humanity is not merely alienated economically or politically; we are alienated from our Creator and thus from our true selves and one another.

As Christians, we can certainly analyze and critique the shortcomings of economic and political systems, even finding certain "truths" in their diagnoses of societal ills. We recognize the dangers of unchecked capitalism's tendency toward commodification and the allure of Marxist critiques of injustice.

The "woke" movement is heavily informed by Marxist ideology. The problem with "woke-ism" isn't that they diagnosed the problem wrong (there are systemic injustices in society) the evil of "woke-ism" is that they embrace Marxist solutions, ultimately ending up in the same trap that they're railing against. They look for revolution (even violent revolution) and believe the solution is through top-down, government-imposed egalitarianism, a shoddy attempt to create social "justice" that does little more than turn society upside down, to oppress those who were formerly advantaged, in exchange for elevating the formerly oppressed for no other reason than that they were historically disadvantaged.

The solution to the problems that ail our world isn't in reversing our power dynamics. The antidote to Capitalism isn't Marxism. The antidote to Marxism/Socialism isn't free markets.

All human "systems" are inherently imperfect, inherently broken. The problem with Marxism, and woke-ism, is the elevation of human systems/governments to the level of savior. It's idolatrous, and just as evil as anything that these movements oppose. It's an echo of the serpent's original temptation to take the "knowledge of good and evil" into our own hands, to seek our own solutions, to make gods of ourselves and our human societies/governments.

Too many Christians, in a reactionary way, tend to create false-gods built on "Capitalist" or "Marxist" foundations. While we can debate (and disagree) about which system is "better" or "worse," neither system will save us. Neither system will offer the kind of justice or progress we're looking for. If you kneel at either altar, the false idols of free-market or socialist revolution will inevitably betray you.

Our hope for true restoration and liberation rests not in perfecting human systems, but in God's redemptive work in Christ.

The civilly-engaged Christian must speak against injustice in every form, not because it's "capitalist" or "marxist" but because it dehumanizes those whom Jesus died to saves, it reduces human beings of infinite worth as made in God's image into either economic units or into a false oppressed/oppressor dichotomy.

We do not denounce these injustices in order to course-correct human governments, but to divorce people's "hope" from such systems entirely. We speak against these injustices not so that we might look to more government, more political theory, more human ideas to fix the problem. We condemn these injustices that we might direct the gaze of all upward, toward a kingdom that's breaking into the world even now, that comes wherever two or three are gathered, and will ultimately permeate the entire world once the new Eden (that is the church) completes its mission and all things are made new by our coming-again King.

Our hope is in the promised restoration of creation itself, a cosmic renewal that transcends any political or economic revolution. More fundamentally, our hope lies in the restoration of the image of God in humanity through the mystical union we have in Christ.

It is in being united with Christ, the perfect image of God, that our true dignity is reaffirmed, our shame is covered by His grace, and our relationships with God, others, and creation are reordered according to His original, loving design. This union empowers us to live and work not as alienated economic units or components of a human system, but as beloved children of God, called to reflect His love and care in every sphere of life, seeing others not as objects for use or tools for the system, but as fellow image-bearers, inherently valuable and worthy of honor, because God has made them so and Christ has redeemed them.

This is a hope that no earthly system can provide or take away.

True human dignity is not earned; it is given by God in creation and affirmed in the costly redemption wrought by Christ. We are not valuable because we work; we work (or rest, or suffer, or care) because we are valuable, beloved by God.

Recognizing this calls us to a different way of seeing and relating to one another – not as economic units or means to an end, but as fellow image-bearers, each a subject of God's boundless love, worthy of honor, care, and a love that seeks their flourishing, just as God originally intended in that first garden. The gospel calls us away from the fig leaves and the shame, inviting us to see each other, and ourselves, in the naked vulnerability and profound dignity that God originally bestowed, and which Christ has restored.

So don't look to any economic theory or political philosophy to heal our world. Don't hang your hopes on your ideology. Human government won't save you. Free markets won't, either.

Pray for a Kingdom. Thy Kingdom come. There's nothing else, no system or government or cause, that can actually deliver what it promises.

 

In Jesus' name,

Judah

 

(p.s. some of the folks out there calling Pope Francis a Marxist, or extending that on the new Pope Leo XIV, fail to miss this distinction. Both popes were/are rightly critical of Capitalism, but that doesn't make them Marxist/Woke by default. Do a little more digging, and I think you'll find that both of these men echo what I'm saying in this e-mail... they're just as critical of Marxism as they are of Capitalism. As I've said many times, I'm not Catholic. But I also recognize with these men, if you do a serious dig into their actual writings and histories, that no human system can truly realize the kind of radical justice/equality/restoration that can and will only be realized at the consummation of the age and the promise of the Kingdom of God).