Tithing
Mon., March 3, 11:35 AM
Yesterday’s “CBS Sunday Morning” ran a segment about tithing. I didn’t watch it all the way through, because so much about the concept offends me. Instead, I shall tell you why — and if I offend you, I am sorry. I seem to be easily offended these days; I think it has something to do with losing the innocence of my younger days, and that is another entry altogether.
Tithe means a tenth; traditionally, it is the “voluntary” donation of one’s annual income to the church. At first glance it seems logical; each person gives according to his means. But those churches that require tithing can come down rather heavily on members who don’t comply. Required and voluntary are not synonyms in my world, so I am wary right there. Furthermore, while I routinely donate to charitable causes, I do not appreciate anyone’s telling me what those causes should be.
Now I’m looking at the meaning of donating 10 percent. It presumes that the 90 percent remaining is sufficient to maintain one’s family. At what level is that presumption valid? Let us say, for example, that the family income is $30,000 per year. One tenth, or $3,000 goes to the church, leaving $27,000 to live on. Will that pay the mortgage and the light bill, leaving enough for gasoline and groceries? Does that $3,000 determine whether or not the family has health insurance or college tuition? And who are you to tell me what I should give up?
The report went on to mention televangelists who live an opulent lifestyle, own expensive real estate, and operate their own airplanes. I think that was where I stopped listening, but it does give one pause: exactly what is any church using the money for?
I was reminded of a story told to me many years ago about a priest who used his Cadillac for what we might term “community outreach.” It was his custom to visit parishioners, particularly those who had not been present at collection times, to remind them to donate to the church. One day he visited a lady I’ll call Maggie. Maggie was a good Catholic, but she tended to follow her own agenda. She told the priest that she did not have any money to donate that week. But the priest had spotted a $10 bill on her mantle.
“I’m sorry, Father,” said Maggie, “but that money is for my hairdresser this week.” (I told you it was an old story.) The priest reminded Maggie that “the Virgin Mary never went to the hairdresser.” Maggie retorted, “…and Jesus Christ didn’t drive around in a Cadillac!”
I will not deny that any church needs money. Even with volunteers to clean the building and make repairs, someone has to pay for the upkeep of the building — electricity, heating, liability insurance. Each congregation has unique expenses too, and most of those are valid. But how elaborate does the building have to be? Is the tall, ornate cathedral more sacred than a Quaker meetinghouse? I have asked myself, is it the building that makes the congregation holy, or is the hearts and minds of the people that make the building holy?
A couple of generations ago, it was not uncommon for ten Jewish families to rent a space — typically, a storefront — in order to have a place where a minyan could meet for daily prayers. I would not want people to have to do that now, although if enough businesses fail in this economy, there will be plenty of storefronts available. Nevertheless, you could not ever convince me that their prayers weren’t just as good as those from the big synagogues they eventually built.
I was fortunate to be raised in a religion that allows, and even invites, questioning. My questions now hearken back to what I wrote five years ago. Organized religion is distorted by money; I’m not saying it’s corrupted, just distorted. Yes, I still donate money to the synagogue where I am no longer a member. But I choose to make donations to other charities, like medical research or educational efforts. No, I don’t give as much as I would like. In a year when 20 percent of my income goes to medical expenses, I cannot find another 10 percent for charity. Then again, we don’t tithe. The Hebrew word for charity is tzedakah, which translates to justice. It is up to each one of us to decide where justice lies.
