Show Me The Money! Tithing at Church

A few years ago, I found myself in a discussion with an Evangelical friend of mine who told me that she and her husband hadn’t been attending their church recently. When I asked her why, she replied that they felt guilty about not having any money to put in the collection plate, so they’d decided not to go.

I told her that she shouldn’t worry about it, that God asks us to give according to our means. It was quite a wealthy congregation, so it wasn’t in imminent danger of collapse or anything due to lack of funds. You can give in many ways, and actually forking over cash you don’t have is only one of them (and probably not a great plan, really). Though I kind of understood where they were coming from, I still didn’t really see how it was an issue. No church worth its salt demands an admission fee or implies that you have to pay for membership. People with more money can afford to give more and people with little money can give to the community in other ways. Frankly, everyone should be encouraged to give to the community in other, non-monetary ways, but that’s a different discussion. If you do end up feeling like all your church wants from you is your checkbook, maybe you should look into another congregation.

However, I admit to feeling kind of ashamed, especially recently, about the fact that I’m always dumping my spare change into the collection plate. Objectively I know it’s not supposed to be an issue. I’m pretty sure it’s less to do about church and more to do about my general money anxiety (I’ve been unsuccessfully looking for a job for months now, and after years of shoving money into education I think I have about 3 to 6 more months of unemployment left before I’m completely screwed). But knowing those things doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better. It’s kind of ironic, but apart from being able to feed myself and house myself and pay my bills and have a general sense of my life being meaningful, the main reason I want a job is to be able to give real money to the church I attend.

It’s kind of funny that since I’m attending church downtown instead of in my suburb I’m spending more on travelling to and from there – not to mention that I might have to purchase lunch – than I tend to give as donation. On the one hand, I feel like I suddenly have even less money to give the church, which makes me kind of panicky. On the other hand, technically I’m spending even more on worship and God should be pleased! It’s a weird situation. If the church really wants my money, I suppose I could just stay home and mail it to them. But somehow I don’t think that’s the point.

The Bible – and Christian history in general – is full of examples about how important it is to give your money and support to your church. While we Anglicans do not rigidly ascribe to the idea of tithing, or handing over 10% of your earnings to the church, certainly donating money on a weekly basis is normative. We also have all sorts of other creative ways to convince you to give your money to the church: bake sales, bazaars, fundraisers and, my personal favourite, charging somewhat exorbitant rates for flower arrangements that decorate the nave. Then again, I used to be Catholic, and once paid 20$ to have a Mass said in a deceased person’s name, which literally involves no resources at all.

Ultimately, I think that giving is meant to be joyful rather than some sort of burden, and the New Testament certainly doesn’t assign any sort of ‘amount’ to it (see 2 Cor 9:5-7). I, like my aforementioned Evangelical friend, shouldn’t feel one way or another about what I manage to give the church on a given week. What I put in the collection plate is less important than the fact that I do it freely and with joy in my heart, rather than with sadness at parting with my toonies or the oppression of obligation.

I’ll be working on grasping that one for a while.


In the meantime, here are Kat’s helpful tips* on how to save or acquire money while your long-term solvency is in doubt, so that you have more to give the church:

-when you visit friends, raid their couch cushions for forgotten change: you will also be doing them a favour by cleaning their furniture, so feel free to count this as payment for your valuable services.

-only use conditioner every second time you wash your hair, and you will spend less on hair products and have more money for the church: plus, using less disposable stuff is a valuable environmental service.

-visit every take-a-penny-leave-a-penny tray at depanneurs and other businesses and never leave a penny: by donating these out-of-mint coins to charity you will be helping the government remove them from circulation, which is a valuable social service.

-panhandle on streets in front of churches you do not attend right before they have services: giving money to the poor is a mitzvah and you will be providing a valuable religious service.

-if your purse breaks, fix it with duct tape instead of replacing it, and give the money you save to the church: redefining fashion as ‘vintage’ rather than ‘garbage’ is a valuable environmental service (here at Walking Along the Way, we care about the environment).

-declare Sunday a lunch-free zone so that you’ll be happy if you eat lunch but not devastated if you don’t: give the money you would have spent to the church, and consider that you’re engaging in valuable health services (and may end up looking fashionably thin!).

-as a last-ditch measure, become a prostitute and give some of the money to the church. You can then preach a sermon entitled “The Things I Was Forced to Do to Pay My Tithe to Jesus.” Also, in times past, reforming prostitutes was considered one of the goals of priestly ministry, so you’ll be doing a valuable Christian service by giving your pastor the opportunity to revive that practice.


*if you can find 1 person who actually found these tips helpful, you owe me a quarter. For the church.