Or, me and tithing.
The biblical (in some schools of thought) practice of giving 10 percent of one's income to one's church was pounded into my head from childhood -- even though I thought back then that people were talking about "paying ties," which made no sense to me. I never questioned the concept of tithing growing up.
But then I turned 18 and started questioning everything.
I wrestled with the question of whether or not I had to tithe -- and felt plenty guilty when I didn't -- before finally doing a little research and realizing that Jesus never talked about tithing (except to criticize the Pharisees and their ilk for doing it while neglecting mercy).
Problem solved -- temporarily.
Not long after reaching a conclusion, I read Donald Miller's "Blue Like Jazz," in which the writer devotes a whole chapter to the importance of giving 10 percent of our resources to God. As Miller was someone whose opinions I greatly respected (and still do, for the most part), I found myself back in the ring for a rematch.
Later, I learned to embrace tithing, but in a different way. Rather than looking at it as a requirement mandated by God (which the New Testament does not seem to suggest), I began to view it as an act of discipline, a choice to deny myself by giving something away -- something that wasn't always convenient. This has been my approach to tithing over the last few years.
Recently, though, I had an epiphany.
It happened as I was finishing a book by Charlie Peacock. "A New Way To Be Human" (the title of which was borrowed from a Switchfoot song and album) is Peacock's manifesto about embracing the Kingdom of God in our daily lives.
At the end of the book, Peacock offers some thoughts, in list format, about what he calls "ten essential 'first things' in the new way." Number 9 on the list is, "Let the Story and the new way of Jesus reinvent your understanding of wealth."
In elaborating on this concept, Peacock wrote the following:
"As far as tithing goes, forget it. In the new way, student-followers give 100 percent.You pray, 'God, everything I have is from you. How do you want me to use it in making the kingdom visible and declaring your rightness and excellence?'"
The reason the Pharisees were so meticulous in their tithing was that it allowed them to measure their holiness against someone else's. The thinking was something like this: "I give not only 10 percent of my money, but also 10 percent of everything in my home, right down to the spices I put in my pot roast. You, on the other hand, only give 10 percent of your money; and there was that one time you got ripped off by one of those slimy tax collectors and didn't have anything left to give. Ergo, I'm holier than you."
A less-defined kind of 100-percent giving, as Peacock outlines, takes away the ability to measure one's piety, because virtually any part of our lives can be lived in this new way.
My 100-percent giving might involve giving money to my church (which I do regularly). It might also involve giving money or a bag of unwanted clothes or a box of non-perishable food to a homeless shelter. It might even involve going out to dinner with friends and picking up the check -- the community you can experience sitting around a table and having a meal together is most assuredly a Kingdom thing. (It might -- and I believe it should -- involve leaving a generous tip for the waiters or waitresses who bring our food, people who are too often treated poorly; it's sad, but I've heard it said that food service people dread the after-church crowd on Sundays, because the diners are so rude.)
Likewise, it might involve the money I invest in building a deck behind my house, where people can come hang out and we can enjoy a hamburger together as we discuss how we might work to see God's will done on earth as it is in heaven. It might involve the cash I spend on a cup of coffee to sit down with a friend and talk about the dreams God has planted within us, or about the struggles we face or our need to be held accountable for our actions and attitudes.
It might involve the cost of driving to Frankfort every February to make my voice heard as I advocate for responsible treatment of our resources and justice for the poor who suffer when coal companies go unchecked in their destruction of our mountains and water supplies. It might involve the money we spend each year for vacation -- a time to decompress, recharge our batteries and renew our commitment to one another and to the vision God has given us.
The parameters are virtually limitless. The key is being sensitive to the Spirit of God and knowing what we feel God is leading us to do with our resources -- both money and stuff.
You don't have to agree with me. If you feel strongly about tithing, by all means, go ahead. But if, like me, you've found the whole idea hard to reconcile with everything else you know to be true about God -- or if you have been turned off by the umpteen messages you've heard preached about it -- I invite you join me in 100-percent giving.
