Robbing God (and our Neighbor)

"Will anyone rob God? Yet you are robbing me! But you say, 'How are we robbing you?' In your tithes and offerings!" -Malachi 3:8

Now, I know what you're probably thinking when you read that verse, "Here we go again. Another blog post/article/sermon about stewardship, about giving money to the church..." 

Well, yes...and no. 

Yes, because, well, whether you like it or not, your local church--the congregation to which you belong, the place where you gather with other members of that congregation, the various ministries, missions, and activities in which you and those other members take part--does not do all that it does on thoughts, prayers, and tax exemptions. It takes (I can almost hear people shifting in their seats at the thought...) MONEY, and do you know why it takes money? Because EVERYTHING costs money.

The lights for the chandeliers and/or the praise band's stage...costs money.

The air conditioning that's too cold for some and not cold enough for others...money.

The hymnals or the projectors...money.

The water for the toilets and sinks in the foyer and children's wing...money.

The flannelgraphs from 1978, the DVD curriculum for the college group, the Sunday school quarterlies...money.

The clean carpet each and every week in the sanctuary...money.

The presence of ministers every time there's a crisis, a death, a clogged toilet, or a youth lock-in...money.

(See where I'm going?)

So of course this is about stewardship, about giving faithfully and consistently to your local church. 

Of course this is about how it takes your giving of your money (and time and talents...) for the local church to do all that it hopes to do. 

But it's about so much more than that. Frankly, it's about how messed up our views of money are and more importantly, how messed up our views of others are.

You see, greed isn't just some negative quality that some people possess because they like having lots of money or lots of things. I have yet to meet someone who can explain to me the real, life-altering difference between making, say, $10 million per year and making $15 million. Honestly, I know the mathematical difference, but is there a drastic shift in one's quality of life? I doubt it. 

I ask that sort of question because that's the problem I have when I hear about things like tax cuts for the rich, or extreme bonuses for CEOs who are already gazillionaires. I ask that sort of question because it's at the heart of our sickness, the root of our sin: it isn't about having more or keeping more or getting more--it's about not caring where the more is coming from. 

In other words, when we hold onto what we have, when we refuse to give away what we have, when we only desire more, we're not just doing it because we like having things--we're doing it because we don't care about those who don't have what we have or want.

See, the passage from Malachi has been used A LOT to talk about making sure you tithe to the church as a sort of practice of discipleship: "If you're a good Christian, you'll tithe, because that's what good Christians do (I'd like to say more here about how much I despise the phrase "good Christian" but I'll save that for a different post)." We've been told that the primary reason we're supposed to give our money to the church is that it's the right thing to do, the biblical thing to do. 

Of course, I've always heard it talked about the way some Baptists talk about baptism: "Yeah, it's important, but it won't get you into heaven, so it's not really that important..."

Here's the thing, though, we don't tithe simply because it's the right thing to do--it's the right thing to do because 1) it reminds us that we do not worship the idol of money and materialism, and 2) giving away what we have to others ensures that others have enough. 

Jesus told this parable in Luke's gospel:

“The land of a rich man produced plentifully, and he thought to himself, ‘What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?’ And he said, ‘I will do this: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.”’ But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God.”

What's the point of holding on to all that we have? We just wind up with barns full of stuff when we die.
What's the point of not giving away as much as we can, while we can? It's not like there's not enough to go around.
What's the point of robbing God? It's not like God doesn't know where our hearts really are.
What's the point of keeping what we have from someone--anyone--else? Are we afraid we won't get it back? Are we afraid we won't have anything left? Are we afraid we might be taken advantage of, abused, mistreated, run-over, played for a fool, mocked...? 

Maybe, but then again, we just might give some food to a hungry child, a cup of cold water to a thirsty stranger, a warm place to sleep to the shivering wanderer...we just might be able to pull someone out of whatever hell they're going through--if only for a short time. 

Sure, when you strive to give away what you have--when you give yourself away--there'll be folks who take advantage of you; you may be abused, mistreated, run-over, played for a fool, and you may even be mocked by those who think they know better. But see, I've read the book, I know the story, and if you wind up like that, well, you'll be in pretty good company. 


CPT