Christians Did Not Invent Charity and Philanthropy

Let me dispel a common myth: no, Christianity did not bring the idea of charity to the Western world.

The concept of charity and concern for the poor was already fully developed before the Christians borrowed the notion from their pagan and Jewish peers. It’s evident in Jewish wisdom literature, Cynic discourses, Stoic and even Epicurean moral theory, Aristotelian generosity and magnanimity, and the Greco-Roman institutions of philanthropia and euergetism. (On the role of influences on Christianity explaining its features generally, see On the Historicity of Jesus, Element 30, pp. 164-68). The idea of charity, welfare, the common good, sharing wealth, helping the poor was heavily ingrained throughout all ancient societies before Christianity. The Christians added nothing new. All they did was boast of being better at it. Which may have been as dubious a claim then as now. The data show poverty only increased under the Christians. For almost a thousand years.

In fact social welfare in antiquity was extensive, often including subsidized and sometimes free medical care, food supplies, educational scholarships, income subsidies for the poor, and disaster relief (on some of this, see Chapter 8, and index, “charities,” in my Science Education in the Early Roman Empire); as well as access to fresh water (which required massive outlays for aqueducts and associated delivery and storage systems), and other urban infrastructure, like roads and libraries, which were free to the public. Public baths and toilets were not free, but heavily subsidized for the benefit of the poor, and sometimes indeed free (on holy days). Private charities were likewise everywhere, from burial and dinner clubs, to guilds and religious fraternities, to secular and sacred hospices. Advanced hospitals with hygienic arrangements, scientific medical staff, medicinal gardens, baths, latrines, and libraries were free to slaves and soldiers—and may have been available to the public for a fee, just as today (Science Education in the Early Roman Empire, p. 109, n. 286); otherwise, healing temples provided scaled-fee services with all the same features (Asclepius, 2.173-80; Charity & Social Aid in Greece and Rome, pp. 132 & 172, n. 156), with a big dose of fake “miracle medicine” of course; but that’s also what the Christians sold, so again, little difference.

Christians were no different from the pagans. Within just a few centuries the Christians became defenders of continuing material and social stratification, rather than champions for ending poverty. In other words, they became pretty much just like the pagans they claimed to be superior to. And they never really had anything better to offer as models for benefaction and charitable action.

The Philosophy of Charity

The notion of charitable giving and support for the poor was already built into the social system and ideology of pagan antiquity. See Poverty in the Roman World, pp. 60-82 (published by the Cambridge University Press in 2006). The sharing of civic resources was a standard moral assumption of every nation-state, including public mining proceeds, food production and supply, and beyond, with many kinds of private and public philanthropic food and cash charities (ibid., pp. 6-8 and 45), implemented on a scale far beyond anything the Christians could achieve—until they took over the government and continued what the pagans started. All of this was the physical realization of ancient pagan thought.

Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics 4.1 is entirely devoted to the virtue of “generosity” (eleutheriotês), and in section 1155a19-22 of NE 8, Aristotle outright says friendship ought to be “felt mutually by members of the same species, especially among human beings, for which reason we praise philanthropists.” Indeed, Aristotle’s views were more sophisticated and practical than any promoted by early Christians: see Judith Swanson, “Aristotle on Liberality: Its Relation to Justice and Its Public and Private Practice,” in Polity 27.1 (Autumn 1994): 3-23.

The Christians had the obscure tale of the widow’s mite. The pagans had a fully intelligible philosophy of it:

The word ‘generosity’ is used relatively to someone’s means; for generosity resides not in how much one gives, but in the moral character of the giver, and this is relative to the giver’s means. There is therefore nothing to prevent the man who gives less from being the more generous man, if he has less to give than those who are thought to be more generous, yet who have not made their wealth but inherited it; for in the first place, the latter sort of man has no experience of want, and secondly all men are fonder of what they themselves have achieved, as are parents and poets. It is not easy for the generous man to be rich, since he is not apt either at taking or at keeping, but at giving it away, and he does not value wealth for its own sake, but as a means to giving. (Aristotle, NE 4.1)

Gosh. It’s as if the Christian notion of charity was invented by Aristotle. Hmmm.

Aristotle goes on to praise this model of generosity as definitive of the good person and the good life, and denounces its contrary extremes: meanness (not giving anything to charity, or giving too little) and prodigality (giving too much, e.g. risking bankruptcy, or to the wrong people, e.g. criminals and flatterers, or for the wrong reasons, e.g. for praise rather than the good it produces). So here we have charity and giving as principles at the foundation of Western philosophy. (See T.H. Irwin, “Generosity and Property in Aristotle’s Politics,” Social Philosophy and Policy 4.2 [April 1987]: 37-54.)

The Epicureans, likewise, promoted frugality and generosity, and accepted the poor and illiterate into their schools and clubs. The Cynics even more so. And the Stoics developed an extensive philosophy of the moral duty to be giving and generous and to help the poor. Eclectics who cobbled together personal philosophies from all the schools of thought did likewise.

Cicero extensively advocated giving surpluses to the needy and helping the poor (On Duties 2). Seneca, the famous Stoic and quintessential philosopher of the Roman Empire, likewise argued that we should readily give alms even to anonymous beggars, and ever be ready to help the needy, and not because of pity, but rationally, as an expression of our good nature (see: On Anger 1.9.2; On Clemency 2.6.2; On Benefits 3.8.3, 4.10-11, 4.29.2-3, 5.11.5; and Moral Epistles 120.2). Musonius Rufus, the most revered philosopher of the Roman Empire, was even more adamant on this virtue of charity, to the point of arguing men should not even own slaves, so as to steal the labor of others, but do their own work or pay for it like everyone else. A point nowhere made by Jesus, anywhere in the New Testament. Altogether, Rufus preached that “to help many people” is “much more commendable than living a life of luxury,” and that “evil consists in injustice and cruelty and indifference to a neighbor’s trouble, while virtue is brotherly love and goodness and justice and beneficence and concern for the welfare of one’s neighbor.” So none of that was invented by Jesus.

Even before Christianity came along to steal those ideas, Seneca’s father famously wrote that “among those laws that are unwritten, and yet set in stone…are the obligations on all to give alms to a beggar and throw earth on a corpse” (Seneca the Elder, Controversies 1.1.14). That statement alone demonstrates how ubiquitous was the common agreement on this point, before Christianity even existed, in the very empire they inhabited. Clearly, the Christians did not introduce it. Generosity had always been a virtue. Greek eleutheriotês was emulated by Roman liberalitas. Greek euergetês was emulated by Roman beneficentia. The Romans even introduced the virtue of mercy (clementia), acting on which also produced charity. And these three Latin virtues, mercy, beneficence, and generosity, together constituted humanitas, producing what we now call “humanitarianism” (see, for example, Cicero’s, Tusculan Disputations 4.43-57 and Academica 2.44.135).

As Seneca himself wrote to posterity, and his friend Lucilius:

It is indeed worthy of great praise, when man treats man with kindness! Shall we advise stretching forth the hand to the shipwrecked sailor, or pointing out the way to the wanderer, or sharing a crust with the starving? … Nature produced us related to one another, since she created us from the same source and to the same end. She engendered in us mutual affection, and made us prone to friendships. She established fairness and justice; according to her ruling, it is more wretched to commit than to suffer injury. Through her orders, let our hands be ready for all that needs to be helped. (Seneca, Moral Epistles 95.51.)

Tossing a coin to a beggar, Seneca said, is literally the least anyone should do, to the point that it hardly warrants praise; because anyone who wouldn’t do that, should simply be condemned (On Benefits 4.29.2). A virtuous man, Seneca says, will certainly do far more than so paltry a minimum:

He will bring relief to another’s tears, but will not add his own; to the shipwrecked man he will give a hand, to the exile shelter, to the needy alms; he will not do as most of those who wish to be thought pitiful do—fling insultingly their alms and scorn those whom they help, and shrink from contact with them—but he will give as a man to his fellow-man out of the common store…and he will not avert his countenance or his sympathy. (Seneca, On Clemency 2.6.1-2.)

Kinda sounds like Jesus. Don’t you think?

Christian Reality

By contrast, while the Christians started out communists who believed in the total redistribution of wealth (Acts 4:34-35; enforced through fear, by the Stalinesque murder of non-compliers: Acts 5:1-11), within a few centuries, Christians were back to reinforcing social stratification by wealth: the poor should stay poor; the rich deserved to be rich; and only crumbs would pass from the latter to the former. At the level of nation-states, no Christian society has ever been organized otherwise since. Even today, Christian hospitals do not tender their services for free, but charge the same as for-profit ventures; and only a tiny fraction of the homeless are given a home, while most Christians live in the equivalent of palaces compared to the majority of the world’s poor; and Christian efforts to feed the hungry are another microscopic facade, serving so few of those in need that the secular state has to intervene to feed them instead, in vastly greater numbers than the entire Christian community of America can deign to offer. (See The Myth of Christian Charity.)

In fact, poverty only rose under Christian care. I demonstrate this in my chapter on the Dark Ages being an actual thing, in Christianity Is Not Great. But as Dominic Rathbone found, the evidence extends even earlier: before the collapse of the economy in the third century, and subsequent Christian take-over of the government in the fourth century, there was much less poverty in the Roman Empire than had been assumed. The extent of it in the fourth century, when the Christians were in charge, was actually new (in “Poverty and Population in Roman Egypt,” Poverty in the Roman World, pp. 100-14). Before that, contrary to Christian rhetoric, there really weren’t that many destitute widows, for example. Almost all on record had support in friends, family, remarriage, and even in some cases by living together and supporting each other. Emergency state food and tax relief was common when needed, but notably, it was not routinely needed. Meanwhile, when poverty increased under the Christians, they instituted no policies to fix that. To the contrary, they praised poverty as virtuous. It wasn’t even a problem Christians were seeking a solution for.


There isn’t really anything significant that Christianity introduced to the West in respect to the virtue and reality of charitable giving, the sharing of wealth, or the helping of the poor. They talked a lot about how awesome they were. But as to actual values, they didn’t say much that hadn’t already been said before, often more astutely. And they didn’t do much that wasn’t already being done before. And until Deists of the Enlightenment started chiding them, they never even proposed a solution to poverty, much less attempted one. (Notions of charity were also developed in the East, independently of Western thought altogether: e.g., see Rome and China, pp. 121-36.)

Apologists will tend to confuse ancient Christian rhetoric, for reality. Christian apologists were liars, as much then as now. They would make up claims of fabulous martyrdoms, just as readily as they made up claims of Christian superiority in charitable acts and giving. No data supports those claims. The reality appears to be the pagans were no less charitable. They organized their charity differently, but practiced it on an extensive scale. They were just as kind, just as helping, just as noble, as their Christian peers. With the collapse of the economy, the empire the Christians inherited was a dying corpse, that they just kept barely alive for a few more centuries, with ever-increasing income disparity. In the wake of that, poverty rose to nightmarish extremes. Which led to much Christian hand-wringing over it. But they never actually did anything about it. They never saw poverty as a problem to solve. They developed philosophies of charity and institutions for helping, but those never differed in any significant way from what the pagans had before then. And they had more, only because there was more poverty.

I often hear the claim that Aristotle never included charity among his virtues. Which is astonishing because it is in fact one of his fundamental virtues, extensively discussed in an entire chapter of his book on moral theory. I often hear the claim that no one cared for or about the poor before the Christians came along, that philanthropy didn’t exist, that social welfare wasn’t a concern. Which is astonishing because in fact the Greeks and Romans were famous for inventing these things, and implementing them quite extensively compared to previous empires. In fact our very word “philanthropy” comes from them! Many Roman and Greek philosophers wrote extensively on generosity and charity and concern for the poor, as being fundamental to the good person, definitive of the moral life. Jesus did not say a single new thing in that respect—except in his radical pacifism and communism, declaring you should give everything away, and never fight even in self-defense, never sue anyone, and never resist a thief, or even enslavement (Matthew 5:38-42; Matthew 19:21-24)…a model of radical charity that Christianity never implemented on any relevant scale.

With respect to how one should use their wealth, I am unaware of any Christian apologist on the planet today who actually lives as Jesus commanded. They live, rather, exactly according to what pagans commanded.


  1. Justin Legault May 25, 2017, 6:49 am

    Thank you for posting this! I hear this arrogant argument from Christians so often, as if they hold the moral barometer.

    Speaking of morality. I’ve heard a (flawed) argument from WLC about morality. Not only does he believe god is not bound by moral duties (Whatever he commands is good) which can mean slaughtering people. WLC said in responding to a question; “Don’t confuse moral ontology and moral epistemology”. What does that even mean? How morality is and ‘how’ we get our morality? In other words, morality changes over time with cultural progress, but HOW we got it is by god?

    Basically he is putting the cart before the horse. Assuming god (An unproven hypothesis) as the answer?

    I just think he is the most dishonest apologist out there. Using big words to fool the audience in thinking he knows what he’s talking about.

    1. He is. And he uses that argument disingenuously all the time.

      But what he means is that how you know x is true is different from what physically makes x true. So, proving that an atheist can figure out what’s moral, is not evidence that what’s moral isn’t made so by God (somehow or other); nor is it evidence that what’s moral can be so without God (i.e. that it would still remain true in a godless world).

      And sometimes atheists do confuse those things. Or don’t really know how they get any of their moral opinions to be true. Or even give up and throw up their hands and admit no moral statements are true. But sometimes they know full well that what they are deducing, is being deduced entirely from godless physical facts, which means no other facts are needed for them to be true. See my article on Divine Command Theory and my older article on The Ontology of Morality for more on both points.

      1. Justin Legault May 26, 2017, 11:58 am

        THANK YOU! That’s what I was thinking about (Moral Ontology and Divine Command Theory). Sam Harris had the debate with him which I think he did a great job!

        I’ll read those articles tonight 🙂 Thanks again!

  2. John MacDonald May 25, 2017, 7:39 pm

    As Nietzsche said, the poor, lower class Christians valued things like meekness (the meek shall inherit the earth) and poverty (it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God) because those were the circumstances they were stuck in, and hence the Christians demonized the values of “wealth” and “power” of the ruling class.

    1. They didn’t demonize wealth and power any more than many pagan philosophers did. The Christians didn’t introduce anything new.

      And Nietzsche was not that great a philosopher; even worse an anthropologist or sociologist or political economist. So I wouldn’t be citing him on scientific facts that are studied by actual scientists. (Contrast what modern anthropology says: Element 29, On the Historicity of Jesus, pp. 159-63.)

      You also need to unpack what you think this statement of his even means. For example, if it’s that the rich are often blind to the plight of the poor, notice I quote Aristotle saying exactly that. More clearly and expertly than Nietsche did. And thousands of years earlier.

      As to Christian history, the Christians may have begun as a movement among the poor, but by the time it acquired political power it was just another top-down elitist philosophy that defended social and economic stratification, and defended the power of the powerful, just as almost all philosophies before it.

      That means when we hear Christianity’s most ardent defenses of the virtues of poverty, it was by then coming from the wealthy educated elite, who were thus defending income disparity, in order to shut down any attempt by the poor to argue they deserved more. Christian leaders were thus not giving voice to the values of the poor. They were trying to scotch them.

      1. John MacDonald May 29, 2017, 1:10 am

        I think Nietzsche had some interesting things to say about “Truth,” and inspired others that had interesting things to say about “Truth:”

        “Contradiction” reminds me of textual hermeneutics.

        There is, of course, the message the author intended, like in Moby Dick where we learn about the tragic nature of revenge.

        But, as Derrida pointed out (“There is nothing beyond the text”), there may also be unconscious themes that the author didn’t consciously intend, but she accidentally put in the text nonetheless.  Moreover, there may be a “trace” of something in the author’s text that may contradict (“contra dicere in Latin,” “speak against”) the author’s project, such as the way Aristotle may have detected the hint of something in Plato’s texts that threatened to overthrow Platonism. Or, how an author’s moral message may be tainted by hints of bigotry.

        And texts can be inherently ambiguous. So there can be a plurality of interpretations of the same text, while some interpretations “speak against” others, with no real ground for deciding between them: eg., Jesus as apocalyptic prophet, or charismatic healer, or Cynic philosopher, or Jewish Messiah, or prophet of social change, or mythical celestial being, or zealot. Each faction of interpreters point out that their model explains the available evidence, and that their model can effectively explain away any supposedly recalcitrant evidence.

        Hermeneutics are humbling processes that remind us of human frailty. And that’s a good thing. Untold tragedy has happened in human history because people have acquainted “truth” with “certainty.”

        Certainty, as Nietzsche showed, is a psychological state, not a guarantee of truth. Everyone has had different points of view about things they once were “certain” about, such as Dr. Bart Ehrman’s fundamentalist youth changing into a liberal perspective of the academy.

        As Heidegger said, truth is more primordially seen as “aletheia,” which is not just “correctness,” but more originally (with the alpha privative, “a-letheia”) “unconcealed,” or “revealed,” or “exemplary,” like when we speak of someone going out of their way to help us that they are demonstrating what it means to be a “true” friend.

        Before there can be truth as “correctness” (the agreement of a proposition with a state of affairs), there must be “a-letheia,” “un-hiddenness.” For instance, before 1+1=2 is “true” for a child, it must be “revealed” with manipulatives that when you group one thing with another thing, you get two things.

        And, as Heidegger said, there is a “giving” to truth (“Es gibt Sein,” in German). Anyone who has stayed up all night trying with futility to solve a problem, when suddenly the answer “comes to them,” knows this (Eureka! I’ve found it – in Greek). The phenomenological experience of truth is more than just sheer effort, because there must be a revealing and a finding of what is given. Even today people in the Arts still speak of their’ ‘Muse,’ and if the muse isn’t inspiring you, it’s a wasted night of writers block.

        For Socrates, the journey of Truth is one where you follow your guiding perspective to the point where it reaches an “aporia,” a block in the path, and so you need to revise your guiding perspective.  One of the clearest examples of this in modern times Is the long journey of a fundamentalist to overturning their worldview and becoming secular.

        What do others think belongs to the essence of Truth?

      2. J S Luscher May 29, 2017, 4:23 am

        Mary Beard, Professer of Ancient History at Cambridge University, England, in her TV doc about Rome said that beggars in Rome would starve due to lack of charity. The only way to avoid this fate would be to offer yourself as a slave. And we know that slaves were often thrown out by their masters when they ceased to be young and physically attractive. Sexual satisfaction being one of a slave’s main functions for their masters. See Mary Beards TV series on Rome,(2016). Beard also appeared on the BBC radio 4 programme “In Our Time” earlier in the year in a discussion about Seneca. She said that there was a dichotomy between Seneca’s noble and high minded philosophy, and the fact that he was a slave owner in Ancient Rome. A criticism that could apply to any of the classical moralists, probably including Aristotle.

        1. Seneca was indeed just like every Christian leader after him: not a loyal adherent of his own teachings. I made that point already in my article. Again, no difference. The pagans and the Christians were just alike in this regard.

          But Beard is wrong about beggars. Indeed, her claim is illogical. There could not have been ubiquitous reports of there being beggars, if begging never worked. If they all starved, there wouldn’t be any. But we know there were. So someone was giving them food or cash. And all our sources that discuss the matter, report everyone agreed on moral obligations to give beggars coins or bread; it was so fundamental, the sources indicate shock that anyone wouldn’t do that.

          But indeed being a slave was better than being a beggar, for many at least. Slavery was actually a job. You’d be paid in free medical care, clothing, room and board, possibly even an education funded by your owner. If you were already educated, a slave position could actually be rather posh, and substantially improve your social status and influence. It’s no surprise many would prefer it to begging in the streets. But alas, a lot chose the begging instead. As the sources all show. Which, again, means beggars didn’t starve.

          I should note that selling oneself into slavery wasn’t in fact the only option. The industrious would attach themselves as a client to a patron. They’d receive money, meals, possibly a room, and other benefits, in exchange for being a lackey. The entire Roman social system was built on the client-patron relationship and it was the number one form of work-for-welfare in the Empire. And then there was the usual option besides even that: getting a job (most commonly, as a laborer, always in demand; or apprenticing to a craftsman).

          Beggars were thus more usually infirm or insane, just like today. Thus they couldn’t get work or a cliency. And might not have even been able to sell themselves into slavery, for want of anyone who’d buy them. Although the evidence shows the Roman economy easily employed the disabled. And there was no cure for the insane; so I suspect the typical beggar was either insane or in between securing any of the other options and thus securing gap funds until they got a better situation. Both conditions the pagans had sympathy for and readily tossed coins to, as the sources attest.

  3. This is very helpful. I am reading a review copy of the new Bart Ehrman book “Triumph of Christianity” and he makes the claim that the idea that society should serve the poor, sick and marginalized became a “distinctively” Christian concern. Which is nonsense.


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