#5 Tithe Sunday

Episode 5 in the That Other Flock series

Please note that if you haven’t read Episode 4, Rich Beats Poor, you may want to experience it first because episodes 4 and 5 are connected. Here’s the Index. Thank’s for reading!

“I’m gonna tape me a nickel to this here commitment card and drop it in the box.” This was the second Sunday in a row that Brian was jacked up, coming out of the morning’s church service. “It’s my ‘mite.’ What ever the hell that is.” He was waving around the card we each received on the way into worship.

“Language Brian! Come on, calm down.” Betty, our little group’s peacemaker and den mother, handed him a chocolate frosted with sprinkles (on a napkin!). “Eat something, maybe your blood sugar’s low. It’s Tithe Sunday. Everyone gets a little tense on days like this.”

She’s not wrong. Tithe Sunday’s when everyone is “encouraged” to make a commitment to give 10% of their income to the church during the year. This church is rather progressive, they were clear that you could tithe on net income.

Betty’s not wrong about Tithe Sunday and giving sermons. Discussing giving in the church is always a little awkward for church staffs and for most of the congregation.

“Brian, I know you’re worked up about money.” This was Jelly. “But giving to God is the right thing to do.” The whole time Jelly was talking, he was rooting through a box of donuts. Betty had grabbed the only chocolate/chocolate frosted with sprinkles. He settled for a regular chocolate frosted. “You know, if you bless God with your money, He’ll bless you with money. That’s how it works.”

“Slow your roll, Trust Fund.” Red reached across the table and snatched the donut from Jelly’s hand. “Don’t be telling working people what to do with money when you’re one of the rich.”

“Hey, that’s not nice.” Of course, this was Betty. I couldn’t tell what bothered her more, the Trust Fund nickname or the donut heist.

“Whoa, that’s some bad ‘health and wealth gospel’ shit you’re preaching Homes…nope, we are not going there.” Tommy visibly straightened as he talked and focused on Jelly like a laser…a laser with that red blinking light on his ankle bracelet.

Red, the young Asia woman, took a defiant bite out of the donut while holding aggressive eye contact with Betty. We were seconds a way from someone throwing hands. I edged away. I had just enough rum buzz going that women in a scrap in the church kitchen it wasn’t overly alarming.

The rum also helped me stay distant and review this morning’s Tithe Sunday. They did it pretty well, all things considered. The strategic mistake that many churches make is to focus the tithing message only during the sermon. That means it’s all blessings and good times, then wham you hit ‘em with “time to cough up the money.”

This church warned us Tithe Sunday was coming. They asked us to pray all week about Tithe Sunday. And the entire service was about giving and generosity. Overall, a polished effort.

Our pastor did his job with skill, and that’s not easy. He used the story Jesus tells of the widow who drops two tiny coins, the widow’s mites, into the temple offering. He did a terrific job of setting the scene of the bustling temple. You could see the rich people dropping big gifts into the offering and the admiring crowd. You could picture the widow quietly dropping in her two tiny coins. A gift of everything she had that left her with nothing. No one paid attention, but Jesus noticed her. The pastor even commented that he believed Jesus was smiling when He was watching this widow.

Meanwhile, back at the donut-table standoff, Red wasn’t backing down. She was glancing from Jelly to Betty and back. The hard set of her face was daring either of them to say or do something. She was up on the balls of her feet, cocked like a gun. He’s a big boy, and she’s a tiny woman, but if things went to fist city, I’d bet on Red.

Jelly broke eye contact with Red and turned to Tommy. “What’re you saying?”

“This isn’t spiritual multilevel marketing, man,” Tommy answered. “Giving to God isn’t an investment. You don’t give to get. That’s not how it works.” Tommy said. His calm voice dialed the threat level down far enough that I felt safe to grab strawberry-filled from the box (for whatever reason, there were only 17 donuts this morning, but the variety of donuts made up for the lack of quanitity).

“It’s a blessing to give to God. That’s the truth,” said the Professor.

“I don’t think we have to give 10%. I’m going to Google it.” Ice/Brian had his phone in his hand but was confirming what we’d confirmed before: absolutely no cell coverage down here. “Nothing. Got no bars at all.” He was waving his phone around, trying to pick up a stray signal.

“I don’t think we have to give anything if we don’t want to. I give because I want to. You don’t have to.” Betty shifted from keeping the peace to dishing theology. “And are we worrying about what God thinks, or this church thinks?”

“Same thing,” said Jelly.

“Not even close to the same,” Tommy said with a dismissive shake of his head.

“Good question, good point,” said the Professor nodding at Betty and then at Tommy.

“This is Tithing Sunday. It’s the Give 10% Sunday. Look at your freaking card.” Here Ice/Brian started reading from the card he’d been waving around. “I, fill in the blank, pledge to give 10% of my earnings this year…blah, blah, blah. With a blank to fill in the amount and a blank to sign.” He looked around at us. “It’s like a contract. They think we have to.”

“That’s a neuroscience trick…when you sign, you are statistically more likely to keep the commitment.” Red sounded less like she wanted to fight now. “That’s why schools or employers have you sign a statement when you’re in trouble and they want you to change your behavior.”

Ice/Brian and Tommy both said, “That’s true.”

Ice/Brian said to Betty, “You didn’t win the lottery last week, did you?”

“No. But that’s OK, my truck’s still running. I’m gonna be OK. I really appreciate what you guys did for me.” She even included me in her ‘thank you’, which stung a bit since I hadn’t chipped in my lotto ticket. For the record, I didn’t win either.

“Would you have tithed if you’d won a million?” Ice/Brian asked.

“Sure…I think so. But…I don’t know. I enjoy giving. It’s what I do. But when you have a million bucks in your hand, it might be tough to part with 10% of it. That’s a lot of money. Never thought about it. Never had much money. I just give, not because I have to, but because of how it makes me feel.”

“I’m not parting with my money,” Red said. “I work too hard for it. What I do, no, not giving it up…” This is one of the few self-disclosures she’s made beyond picking fights with people. “I’m not parting with it,” she said it like slamming a door.

Then the Professor held his hand out across the box of donuts for her to shake and said, “My name’s Leon. What’s your name?”

Red’s shoulders rose and fell with a theatrical sigh. “Really?” She looked around. “We’re introducing ourselves now? That’s not what I’m here for.”

“Oh, come on, we have something here, don’t we? This has turned into a nice group.” Betty looked around. I tried to signal to her with non-verbals that ‘No, we did not have something.’

But Jelly said, “Come on, at least shake his hand.”

Red placed her hand in Leon’s (now I have to remember his name) and said with all the warmth of a text-to-speech app, “Nice to meet you, Leon. My name is Eve.”

This delighted the Professor. “Where’s home?”

Red/Eve arched a perfect eyebrow and said, “San Francisco. Don’t ask where before that. I’d rather not get pissed at you again. Born at San Fran General.” She did a passable southern drawl that would’ve been funny in another setting and said, “American, born and bred.”

The Professor, sorry, Leon, said, “Nice to meet you, Eve. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said this with…just the slightest bow. Whatever it was, it was an obvious gesture of respect…or acceptance…or peace. Don’t know.

“Please, we are not singing Kumbaya,” Brian/Ice had relaxed a bit. “What did we decide? Do we have to give?” Brian/Ice looked around our donut circle as he fiddled with the diamond in his ear.

“I think we’d give anything for you to not be so butt-hurt.” Jelly said to Brian/Ice. There was a faint smile. “Dude, you’re killing us.”

“Sorry, sorry. Money’s tight.” Brian/Ice shook his head. “I thought I was in good shape, you know? I thought God was blessing me. I thought I’d dug out of this hole, but…I’m barely keeping my head above water. It’s a constant hum of worry. I’m just looking for a sign, a signal…anything…I mean…I want to know if God sees me and cares.” Then there was a long pause where he was looking at the floor. When he looked up, he said, “Honestly, I’m scared.”

That had us all nodding in understanding. Everyone was thinking about their worries. We knew exactly what he was talking about. I know I did.

And then Betty said, “I don’t know the Bible the way some of you do. But Brian, you’ve told us Jesus has never failed you. I think that’s why you gave me your lottery ticket. It could have been a big winner. That could’ve been your salvation. Right? But you gave it to me. Jesus would want you to do that, right? Help someone. You did. You all did. You gave me your lottery tickets.”

“But you didn’t win,” Red/Eve said.

“Oh, yeah, I did.” Betty laughed. “I won big. Brian, you…when you all gave me your lotto tickets, it felt like a gift from God. Me! No one cares. But you did. You cared. You don’t even know me. But you gave me your chances to win. I still have those lottos taped to my bathroom mirror. I have smiled every time I see them. I need that feeling more than I need to win the lotto. A huge win for me.”

I wasn’t proud that I had kept my lotto in my pocket, but that’s my life now. No one called me out and everyone just nodded.

Betty said, “Brian, I can promise you Jesus sees you. I know He is proud of you. Proud of you all.”

Red/Eve said, “How do you know that? How could you know that?”

“From the sermon this morning, that woman at the temple,” Betty said. “Jesus saw you freely give me your lotto…it really was like the widow and her mites. He saw you share your hope of treasure with me. Oh, Brian, Jesus was so proud of you. Proud of you all. He sees you. He cares. He’s smiling at you.”

We just stood there and soaked in her words.

Well.

They stood there with it.

I freaked them out when a sob got past my rum numbness. I did my best to play it off like it wasn’t what it was, but two or three sobs followed the first. I lost it.

I fast walked to the kitchen door, up the stairs, and out into the world.

So classic of the failure I am. I come to church for a sign. Just like Brian, I want to believe that Jesus is on my side. I want Jesus to smile at me one more time.

And all these weeks of using rum to get me through the doors of church. Hoping against hope for something. Even a glimmer of divinity that’s not judgment.

And I missed my chance by keeping my lotto ticket in pocket.

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Ready for the next one? Here you go: Episode 6: “Plot Twist”

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