Tag Archives: church

This is the third entry in what has become a series. Links to the first two are at the end.

A few months ago on one of my walks, I started thinking about the idea of a church that would practice radical generosity on a regular basis. I had been reading about charities that were accused of not spending much of their collected funds on their target audiences (for instance, the Wounded Warrior Project apparently spends much more on its television commercials and executive salaries than it does to actually help wounded veterans), and I began to wonder about churches and their use of collected funds.

I’ve been active in many different churches over the years, in mainline denominations (e.g., Baptist, Presbyterian), in nondenominational churches, and in what I liked to call the “multi-denominational” environment of the chapels on various Air Force bases. I’ve visited many more churches, from the East Coast to the West Coast, many places in between, and even a few churches in other countries. In comparing all those churches, it should come as no surprise that some of the churches did more to serve the needy than others.

This past year in particular, I began to suspect that the donations we’ve made to local rescue missions did more to directly help the needy than the donations we’ve ever made to a local church, of whatever type. Why? Because the local churches’ receipts went almost entirely to cover their own operating expenses, and those expenses were not usually devoted to serving the needy. So I began to think about how a church might work if serving the less fortunate was its primary purpose for being.

Serving the needy, two Saturdays out of the month. (Image: “Jesus Feeds the Hungry (5 of 12),” by Tony Fischer, on Flickr under Creative Commons.)

Gradually a picture formed in my head of a church — I called it The Gift Church — that would spend more money on helping others than it spent on itself. I outlined that purpose and the guiding principle behind it in the previous two posts on this subject. If you missed those installments, here’s how I put it:

Purpose. The purpose of the Church is to advance the Gospel of Jesus Christ through service to the community and the world. The Church has been given gifts that are meant to be shared.

Central Tenet. Believing that the Lord Jesus Christ’s declaration is true (as reported by Paul the Apostle to the Ephesian church leaders in Acts 20:35), that it is indeed more blessed to give than it is to receive, the Church shall devote more of its monetary resources to serving the needy than it does to its own internal obligations, needs or desires.

Guiding Principle. In the same way that the Lord Jesus Christ did not select disciples so that they could serve only one another or that He could serve only them, the Church does not exist so its members can serve only one another or keep His blessings to themselves. If the Church ceases to serve others, or serves itself to the exclusion of others, it shall not have fulfilled its purpose, because the observation that “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21, and especially Luke 12:33-4) can be understood to apply to the corporate Church as well as to individual believers, and so can the Lord’s teaching that service to the poor and downtrodden is, in effect, service to Him (Matthew 25:31-46).

How might that work in practice? First, I should admit that it might not. But if it could, I envision a few elements of its operating as:

• Regular Charitable Support. The Church would donate regularly to organized charities that directly serve the needy (and/or give money directly to people in need), such that for every dollar the church spent on itself, it would spend a little more than a dollar on the needy. If the Church spent $100 on, say, office supplies, it would then donate $101 to charitable work, and so forth. The Church would have to keep its own expenses reasonable in order for its receipts to cover its own needs and its charitable donations.
• At a Minimum, a Tithe. If the Church kept its expenses very low in relation to its receipts, it could conceivably retain a great deal of money as a surplus. That would not be bad, as Scripture encourages frugality and planning for lean times — and once some of the surplus was spent on church expenses, a charitable donation would still have to be made. However, it would seem appropriate for the Church to donate at least a tenth of its total receipts, regardless of its expenses.
• Meeting Needs As They Arise. At any time, members may become aware of needs in the community or the wider world, so any member of the Church could propose a charity (or person) to receive a donation from the Church. The decision-making authority, however, would rest with the assembly of Deacons since that’s why the office of deacon was established.
• Meeting a Mix of Needs. To keep its focus from becoming too narrow, the Church would distribute its donations to a variety of local and non-local charities. The actual mix might vary from year to year, but the Church would give more than a fourth of its donations to non-local charities. Of the remainder that stayed in the local area, the Church would ensure that no more than a fourth of its donations directly benefited its own needy members. But even a balance like that could be changed if the Elders and Deacons became aware of specific needs that the Church could help meet.
• Charitable Missions. To maintain its focus on helping the needy, the Church would only count donations to missions as “charitable” if those missions themselves involved direct service to needy people.
• Provisions for Large Donations or Expenses. From time to time, starting in the early church, people have liquidated property and given the proceeds to the church; most churches could receive such a large gift easily, but under the “tithe” provision above a large gift could stress The Gift Church’s ability to live up to its own central tenet if it did not have funds on hand to donate one-tenth of the gift’s value to charity. Likewise, sometimes a church is faced with a large expense for which making a more-than-matching lump-sum donation would be impractical. In these events, the Church would have the leeway to make its charitable donations in installments.
• Reporting and Accountability. The Elders would report the cumulative receipts, expenses, and donations to the congregation at intervals throughout the year, and provide a detailed report at year’s end. In this way, the members could be sure the Church was living up to its stated purpose — and if for some reason the Church failed to do so, could take corrective action.

Do you think a church like that might be able to function for very long?

Would it be able to keep its expenses reasonable and encourage its members to give sufficiently to cover the expenses and its charitable work?

I don’t know.

What I believe is this: When Scripture tells us to “bring the whole tithe into the storehouse” (Malachi 3:10), the implication is not that all the food in the storehouse is intended to stay there. It is intended for the Levites and the needs of the Temple, yes, but not for the worshipers. And any excess is not meant to be left in the storehouse to rot.

But maybe I’m the only person who thinks that.

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Previously in this series:
The Church I’d Like to Start: A Church that GIVES
The Gift Church: Its Guiding Principle

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In late October, I posted about The Church I’d Like to Start: a church that, more than anything else, would serve others more than it served itself. As I noted then, I would call it The Gift Church, or The Gift for short.

In this season of giving, it seems appropriate to revisit the idea.

(“Pablo Picasso: The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away,” by BK, on Flickr under Creative Commons.)

In that earlier post I laid out what I see as the purpose and the central tenet of such a church, a congregation that would make “giving its most fundamental reason for being.” Basically, the church would commit itself to spending more on the needy than it spent on itself.

How could a church begin to do such a thing? Obviously (perhaps), all who joined it would have to agree on the importance of service to others. But it seems important for the church to develop a clear statement of why they consider it important, such that even those who might just think about joining could understand.

In my musings on the subject, I put it down like this:

Guiding Principle. In the same way that the Lord Jesus Christ did not select disciples so that they could serve only one another or that He could serve only them, the Church does not exist so its members can serve only one another or keep His blessings to themselves. If the Church ceases to serve others, or serves itself to the exclusion of others, it shall not have fulfilled its purpose, because the observation that “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21, and especially Luke 12:33-4) can be understood to apply to the corporate Church as well as to individual believers, and so can the Lord’s teaching that service to the poor and downtrodden is, in effect, service to Him (Matthew 25:31-46).

How does that break down?

In the same way that the Lord Jesus Christ did not select disciples so that they could serve only one another or that He could serve only them, the Church does not exist so its members can serve only one another or keep His blessings to themselves. What did He say to the fishermen? That if they came with Him, He would make them “fishers of men.” Once they were gathered together, did the disciples settle down and have weekly Bible studies and monthly family night suppers with one another? Maybe they did, but if so it wasn’t important to the Gospel writers to record it.

What we do have from the Gospel record is that Jesus sent disciples out into the towns and villages, and to do what? To serve (primarily to heal the sick). And when that phase of the ministry was over, He continued to lead his core group from place to place as he taught and healed and inspired the multitudes.

If the Church ceases to serve others, or serves itself to the exclusion of others, it shall not have fulfilled its purpose…. It seems that statement could — emphasis on could — be true of the church as a whole: the small-c catholic or “universal” church. But it would certainly be true of the specific church as visualized here, the church that would adopt this Guiding Principle. The “Gift” would be a church with a clear purpose, and definite call, to serve others more than it served itself; and if it failed in that purpose, then it should disband and free its members to serve in other places to accomplish other purposes.

… the observation that “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21, and especially Luke 12:33-4) can be understood to apply to the corporate Church as well as to individual believers…. What do those passages teach? That “you can’t take it with you.”

Those passages encourage believers to make themselves ready for the coming kingdom of God by “laying up … treasures in Heaven” rather than accumulating treasures on Earth. On Earth, treasures lose their value, can be destroyed or stolen; not so treasures in Heaven. And while the passages are almost always discussed in personal terms, i.e., with respect to what individuals might treasure, have you ever thought of the church as having a heart that reflects what it treasures?

Have you been to churches that have laid up for themselves treasures here on Earth? Churches, for example, that treasure their facilities, their buildings and yards, their parking lots and playgrounds, their stained glass windows and sound systems, etc., etc., more than they seem to treasure the people that use them? (As a point of reference, I was once told I couldn’t have a bottle of water in the sanctuary of a church, because I might spill some on the carpet.) That’s not to say those things are bad, or that they should be taken for granted, only that the perception of their worth can be out of proportion.

Consider that the passage in Luke’s Gospel goes further than that in Matthew’s, in that it quotes Jesus as telling his listeners to sell their possessions and give to charity. In that context, it is hard enough to justify as individuals the accumulation of wealth; how can a Christian church justify it?

Have you been to churches that seem as if they devote more money to the parishioners’ creature comforts, whether air conditioning or cushy chairs or flatscreen TVs, than they do to helping other people? The sanctuary, classrooms, and furnishings in many churches are usually used only a few hours a week (as an exercise, drive by almost any mainline church at 2 p.m. on Thursday afternoon and count the cars in the parking lot), and even if the cost per attendee per hour was low, do those things amount to Heavenly treasures?

In contrast, have you been to churches that denied themselves in order to more fully serve others, in order to lay up treasures in Heaven? Or at least tried to serve others to the same degree they served themselves? I’m not sure I have.

I’m not sure such a church could long survive.

… so can the Lord’s teaching that service to the poor and downtrodden is, in effect, service to Him (Matthew 25:31-46).

This Scripture, about feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick, etc., is also usually invoked in reference to individuals. But the Church is a group of individuals that considers itself one body; why can’t the instructions directed at people be taken to include the collective Church itself? Should the Church exclude itself from opportunities to serve Christ by serving those in need, or should it seek out those opportunities?

Some churches do this very well, by operating food pantries or soup kitchens or job programs or a myriad of other services. Some, however, seem to offer little more than platitudes; and Christ is quite clear that when the day of reckoning comes the King’s response to those who failed to tend to the thirsty, the strangers, the prisoners, etc., will be, “Depart from me.”

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That’s what I came up with as the guiding principle behind The Gift Church, a congregation that would take “it is more blessed to give than it is to receive” (Acts 20:35) seriously.

Do you think such a church could operate long enough to make a difference in the world? Does the idea resonate with you at all? Or am I the only one?

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Previously on this topic: The Church I’d Like to Start: A Church that GIVES

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I’ve thought a lot recently about starting a church. If I had more energy — or should I say, more zeal — I might already have tried to find some like-minded believers to do so.

(“Celtic Cross, St. Nicholas’ Church, Lazonby,” by Peter Hughes, on Flickr under Creative Commons.)

I should point out to my science fiction and fantasy friends that I do not mean starting a religion, and to my Christian friends that I do not mean starting a denomination — I mean, simply, starting a church.

I’ve thought a lot about this because my wife and I have visited a lot of churches recently and haven’t found one that really effectively balances the contemporary with the traditional; that combines deep, thoughtful, Biblical teaching with enthusiastic, Christ-centered worship; that is large enough to offer a variety of ministries without being desperate for more workers, yet small enough not to be overwhelming or reliant on communications technology; and that has a healthy mix of people from all backgrounds and age groups.

Our church search often reminds me of these lines from the Steve Taylor song, “Steeplechase” (from the album I Want to Be a Clone),

… you started church-shopping, did ya?

It’s been a problem, finding one to fit ya
you didn’t feel good, did ya?

From time to time I’ve thought that my Mormon friends have it a little easier in that they don’t have a plethora of church options available to them. As I understand it, whatever ward they live in, they go to that church and fit in as best they can.

But aside from being unable personally to find the right place to worship and learn, I’ve thought a lot about starting a church because I’ve observed over the years that few churches seem to give back very much to the communities they purport to serve. Most of the tithes and offerings that those churches collect stay within the church. Maybe that’s necessary — the light bills have to be paid, after all — but I’m not so sure.

It seems to me that a church pursuing the ideals of the Gospel would call believers to a higher purpose than weekly meditations and occasional fellowship. Such a church would serve others more than it serves itself. It would be more concerned with the world outside its walls (physical or figurative) than with its sacred cloisters.

I think if I started a church, then, I’d like to start a church that makes giving its most fundamental reason for being. I would call it The Gift Church, or The Gift for short.

I think of it like this:

Purpose. The purpose of the Church is to advance the Gospel of Jesus Christ through service to the community and the world. The Church has been given gifts that are meant to be shared.

Central Tenet. Believing that the Lord Jesus Christ’s declaration is true (as reported by Paul the Apostle to the Ephesian church leaders in Acts 20:35), that it is indeed more blessed to give than it is to receive, the Church shall devote more of its monetary resources to serving the needy than it does to its own internal obligations, needs or desires.

I don’t think I’ve ever been part of a congregation (and I’ve been part of a lot of congregations through our years of moving from place to place) that purposed to spend more on helping others than it did on helping itself. But since the idea came to me — on a walk one morning, about eight months ago — I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. Maybe it’s an unreasonable, unworkable aim; I don’t know, but it intrigues me.

I don’t know yet if I will say any more on this subject, or whether it resonates with or interests anyone else at all. But the idea of a church with a strong purpose in this world, that practices radical generosity on a regular basis, resonates with me. I think if its worship was lively and its teaching sound, I might like to be a part of such a church.

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Some thoughts about metaphors that can describe the church — not the building, but the body of believers — and our relation to the world.

(Image by NCDOTcommunications, on Flickr under Creative Commons.)

Is the church like a rose garden? Have each of us as individual believers been cultivated for special color or shape or fragrance, for what our beauty — despite our thorns — can offer to brighten an otherwise drab world? Do those we encounter find us winsome, and come to appreciate what we offer?

Or are we daisies or other wildflowers, growing freely and with less restraint? Less fragrant than roses, but more plentiful, and pretty rather than beautiful? Do we bring fleeting smiles to those we encounter, but leave them unsatisfied?

Or are we dandelions? Weeds, sprouting and taking root wherever? With less to offer in terms of beauty, but still with some aesthetic value? Do we annoy those who encounter us, and make them struggle to be rid of us?

It seems we may present ourselves as one or the other at different times of our lives. And the difference may be less in our appearance than in how we respond to those who encounter us.

As roses, we can be difficult to handle, delicate and easily bruised, and our thorns can injure the unwary and keep them at a distance. As daisies, we would certainly be easier to grasp, and tougher, but we may not be suited to the innocent who would pull our petals off one by one — “He loves me, He loves me not” — heedless of its effect on us. As dandelions, we can be deep-rooted but surprising fragile at the head, especially when we’ve gone to seed … at which point a breath or a breeze can blow us apart and send those seeds flying.

And the seed is important.

You can choose your own metaphor, of course, but as I think about how important the seed is maybe in the end it would be better to be like sunflowers: reaching ever upward, sturdy and strong and bright, producing seeds of truth and love that nourish those with a taste for them.

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P.S. Thank-you to my newsletter readers who sent comments on the early draft of this post! If you’d like to receive my every-so-often newsletter, sign up with the “subscribe” button on my web site. GR

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One of my favorite parts of the liturgy — which I don’t recite very often, since we go to a Baptist Church — is the Mystery of Faith:

Christ has died.
Christ is risen.
Christ will come again.

On Easter Sunday especially, the Mystery of Faith resonates with me. I think it’s aptly named, i.e., that the basis of our faith is ultimately mysterious and beyond human comprehension. To the worldly wise it is a foolish thing that confounds them; to those of us who are not so wise it can be a confusing thing, difficult to understand and harder to put into practice.

I don’t understand it — neither the mechanisms of the miracles nor the depths of such sacrificial love — and because I don’t understand it, of all the disciples I relate most to Peter the denier and Thomas the doubter.

To me it is, and probably always will be, a mystery.

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If part of growing up is realizing that you can’t realistically expect to get everything you want, what happens to religions when they grow up?

Is it a mark of maturity for a religion that it accepts that not everyone will (or will want to) adhere to it?

I think about Jesus and the rich man — sometimes described as a “rich young ruler” — who asked him what he needed to do to gain eternal life (Matthew 19:16-22). The man walked away from the opportunity, and what did Jesus do? Did Jesus chase the man down, berate him for his stubbornness, or threaten to take his life if he didn’t repent and convert? Not at all. Jesus let him go, and used the event as a teachable moment for his disciples.

When Christianity was in its infancy, still an underground movement, it brought in Jews and Gentiles by way of powerful testimonies and the awesome revelation that God had made a way for people to be saved and changed. Coercion never seemed to come into play, for two reasons. One, because the faith (and the nascent Church) was relatively powerless to coerce anyone to join. Second, and to my thinking more interesting, is because the faith was based on traditional Jewish belief and Judaism, being already a venerable religion, was a mature faith and one that valued being set apart, a small island of monotheistic faith in the ocean of pagan humanity.

As the capital-C Church grew into what I consider its adolescent years, and especially as it obtained official status in the Roman Empire under Constantine, it became much more belligerent. Coercion became more acceptable to church leaders, both as a means to convince people to join and as a means to enforce adherence to doctrine. (We may remember that Judaism’s early days — its adolescence, if you will — also had its coercive phase, when the Jews established themselves as a nation through military victory.)

This leads to the question of Islam, which appears to be a religion still in its adolescence. It went through an adolescent phase before, spreading through coercion and conquest and gaining worldly power that it wanted to protect and expand. Faced with mounting opposition, it retreated into relative isolation; in its recent rise to prominence (or notoriety), however, it seems again to be going through adolescent tantrums, only this time with suicide bombers and AK-47s instead of dervishes and scimitars. The question in my mind is whether Islam as a religion will grow up, will grow out of this petulant and demanding phase, and how long it may take. It seems that it will take the Muslim equivalent of Martin Luther, someone who can initiate an Islamic Reformation, in order for Islam as a religion to mature beyond the need to spread itself by intimidation. That would be a wonder to behold; remember what Luther went through, and think what a Muslim reformer would face.

It also raises the question, to me, of whether the Christian Church is growing old gracefully. It’s one thing for us as Christians to eschew violence (Jesus, you may recall from Matthew 5:38-42, didn’t go in for “eye for an eye”) and to accept that some people will hear the Gospel and remain unmoved. But it would be a shame if we became so “mature,” so insular, so content in the old-folks’-homes of our churches, that we stopped caring about and for the world around us. May it never be.

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Typing out loud on twitter* this morning before I got into the day’s work — which, I’m doing this before getting into the day’s work, too — I wondered: what is the possibility that Islam might experience a re-thinking of its doctrines equivalent to the Protestant Reformation?

What cleric might have the courage to be the Muslim version of Martin Luther?

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*Follow me at http://twitter.com/GrayRinehart

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