It's likely that ego would overtake offering-plate
high roller
I received a number of notes of appreciation for a recent column
in which I lamented that I cannot contribute big money to little
churches. What I would like to do, I wrote, is make sizable contributions
to about 50 churches during the next year. I'd only need about
$100,000, and then each week I'd pick a church somewhere in the
United States to give a gift of $1,000. The rest of the money
would go for expenses: plane fares, telephone calls, postage and
so forth. So if a wealthy believer is listening out there - someone with
a huge tax bill that can be reduced with a large contribution
to charitable organizations - I would like to chat with you. Here's how we could proceed. We would look for energetic, small
churches that need a little boost to achieve a worthy goal. Then,
secretly, I would drop $1,000 into the congregation's treasury
and attribute it to you or your organization. But wait a minute. Let's not get too excited, because so many
serious problems could occur with this plan. First, my ego would be too much involved. I know how I would
mess this up. I would secretly deliver the donation to about five
churches, and then I would start to think that I should get some
credit for doing this. So somewhere down the line, at about the 13th or 14th church,
I would do something foolish to make myself look good. For instance,
I might sit through a church worship service quietly, and then
as I left the place, I would quietly mention to the pastor that
I had just dumped $1,000 into the offering plate. Of course, the pastor would be quivering with joy, and he would
introduce me to all the big contributors and we would all go out
for lunch. All the fancy people in the church would praise and
massage me, hoping for bigger donations. Then I would return to
my work-a-day job and feel good about myself all through the week. However, by the following Sunday, my self-esteem pool would
be running low, and I would have to cook up another stunt so that
people would know that I was a big player in God's scheme of things. Therefore, when the offering plate moved down my row the next
Sunday, I would find a way to draw attention to my gift. Perhaps
I would lean over and nudge the person next to me, hold the envelope
in front of her face and say, "Thousand bucks in here." Or I would use my offering envelope to fan myself through the
worship service, and when the guy next to me glanced at me, I
would say, "Hey, buddy, can't let this out of my sight -
thousand bucks in here." As for the rich matron who gave me the money, she would also
have to get her entertainment from the weekly gifts. At first,
it would be enough to simply mention the donor's name. But by
the time we had given a big gift to eight or nine churches, we
would have to include her business card in the offering envelope. By the 20th week, I would be instructed to include an entire
press kit of information about her business - Shirley's Heavy
Equipment - with pictures of huge, powerful machines that could
move a house and garage across the street in a matter of seconds.
And of course, an 8-by-10 glossy photo of Shirley. The third problem would be the congregations that did not receive
a gift of $1,000 from Shirley and me. Can't you imagine that every
neglected congregation would want to know why they were not included.
And they would begin to criticize the churches that had been chosen. "St. Billy's by the Goose Pond is a bogus church,"
they would say. "Last year about 200 people left that congregation
and starting worshiping at the Free Will Baptist Church. No wonder
they claim to be a small church; they've driven away all their
members. Come over here and see a real small church." And
so forth, until Shirley and I would be dizzy with the conflicting
claims and complaints. I'm sorry, this idea will not work over the long haul. Too
many egos would be involved, and there would be too much room
to make mistakes. Why, in a matter of a month, mobs of Christians
would be clamoring for Shirley's hide, poor woman. As for me,
I would probably be attacked outside an Episcopal church after
only dropping a sawbuck into the offering. No, the best way for a church to get money is to impress upon
its members that there is only one secret to a happy life. That
secret is learning to give away the things that mean the most
to you. I'm not talking about giving away people. I mean things, such as money, a precious thing but still something
that must be given away before it gets a choke hold on your life.
And the more you get free of your money, the happier you are going
to be - guaranteed.
Clark D. Morphew
Posted For February 19, 2000