Shortly following the Notre Dame fire, I saw a meme going around. It said "Please don't donate to help rebuild Notre Dame. The building is worth $30 billion. Donate to help Puerto Rico recover. Donate to get Flint clean water. Donate to get kids out of cages. Jesus didn't care about stained glass. He cared about humans."
At first I wanted to add my hearty Amen, but then I began to sit with it more. Before I was plunged head first into Urban ministry, I would have wholeheartedly agreed. Meet the basic needs of people. Those needs are food, clean water, clothes, and a safe place to live. However, now I realize how dehumanizing it is to reduce people to those few basic needs.
If all we spend money on is food for the poor, so they can be saved, what are we saving them to? (Also.... maybe we should lose the language of saving people in the first place... but I digress)
It might seem odd that someone who does ministry in a city lacking so much, is advocating for something other than this meme is saying. Now, don't hear what I'm not saying, I'm not saying don't donate to rebuilding Puerto Rico, they need the money. Please give to clean water initiatives in Flint, I have friends there and family nearby. Please vote and advocate to reunify children with their parents. Jesus did desperately care about humans, but he cared about the whole human, not just basic needs.
Reducing people to only needing water, clothing, food, and shelter misses so many things about the image of God in people. Jesus said it this way "man does not live on bread alone."
In America, many people who have their "basic" needs met are still dying. Because life isn't just about those things. Life is also about beauty, about art, about community. Life is about finding spaces to pray, to meditate, and to reflect. And when we don't have those things, just as much as not having the others, something deep and necessary is missing in our lives.
I'm also going to go out on a limb here and say, Jesus does care about stained glass, because he cares deeply about the artisans who created it and the ways that they used those gifts to glorify him. We would never say "Jesus doesn't care about our songs on Sunday." He does! Because they are an act of worship. For artists, their act of worship is art. Man doesn't live on bread alone.
Last year, our church building had serious plumbing issues. It drove me crazy, because we had to spend a significant amount of money to get it fixed. As the plumber was putting the camera down our pipes to discover the problem, I mentioned to him how frustrated I was that we were spending money on plumbing instead of on ministry. I honestly think this man might have been an angel in disguise, because what he said to me has profoundly impacted me to this day. He said "having working pipes is a ministry. The ability for people to use the bathroom is a basic human need. If you can't meet that, it makes the rest of your ministry difficult to do. Don't discount the ministry of your building."
I was dumbfounded, and convicted. In so many ways. I had, and still do at times, see our building as a burden. As a hindrance to doing ministry, without realizing that in so many ways, my building is a ministry. We have had many homeless and transient people use our restrooms, or come in to get warm. We have children who are just being potty trained rush down to the bathroom. So many of our Sunday visitors, just happen to be walking by, and end up finding community here. A lot of our congregation finds a beautiful space important for them in connecting with God. Our building is a ministry.
It's hard to look at a $30 billion price tag, and how quickly money is raised, and not feel a bit incensed about it, people are dying after all. But, we also have to look at ourselves. I've spent $50 on a dress because it was pretty, and I felt good in it. I've spent money on art pieces and photography for my home. Why? Because people need more than bread. People need self-expression, and belonging. They need art and beauty. They need toilets, and spaces to pray. They need to have hope, and looking at beautiful things that glorify God often fills that need.
There is a deep importance to understanding that people are more than basic needs, that they are creative, that they love music, they love art, they love pretty dresses just as much as the next person.
But there's another important lesson to be learned here too, the economy of God is big, and is not in danger of running out of money. The question isn't "let's spend money here, instead of here, because there are limited funds", the challenge is how to do both. I think we've witnessed, that we can. There is enough money and human power to invest in beautiful spaces, to fix plumbing issues, and empower artists, while also feeding, clothing, and giving water to those in need. We just have to have the creativity and desire to do it.
Let's work together. Let's restore dignity to people by caring for their whole person. Let's find where they are gifted and celebrate their gifts. Let's appreciate art, and the artist. Let's meet needs, and empower people to meet their own needs. Let's celebrate that God didn't create us to live on bread alone, but that we are all uniquely and beautifully made in the image of God. An image that is created for community and creativity, while also giving bread.
Archive for April 2019
A Mile in Someone Else's Shoes
There has been a lot of buzz lately on the shoe choices of clergy. In particular, a small demographic of celebrity pastors, who are wearing shoes over $2,000 a pair. Though I have seen criticisms of shoes costing as low as $200.
I understand the criticisms. It leaves many people to question if their tithe money is going to the ministries they think they are, or so their pastor can lead a life of luxury that they could never afford themselves. There is a continuing question of stewardship, and if that is the best way to use money, and the resounding answer tends to be no.
However, there's a huge issue with this collective outrage, the reality that unless your pastor was actually on that small list, they aren't the problem you think they are. I've actually seen people say "this is why I don't give to my local church" or "I'm reconsidering tithing" and it breaks my heart, because most of us who are pastoring are far from being able to afford $2,000 shoes, we're struggling to put food on our tables and pay our bills.
Let me be truthfully vulnerable about our situation. My husband lost his job this week, and with it we lost all of our insurance benefits and our regular source of income. That might not seem like a big deal, I work full time at the church after all, but the reality is that the only income we receive from our small church is housing and utilities. But, because we receive housing, it's considered income, and thus it is taxable. Clergy have to pay self employment tax, which is a significant percentage of our income. We also have to pay the various other parts of income tax as well, including social security, and without an employer to supplement it, these amounts become very large very quickly. I did the math this week, and what I make comes down to about $2 an hour (which is a generous estimate). Remember none of that is in an actual salary, so we don't receive any of that money to buy groceries, it is all tied up in our house.
Because of this I am bi-vocational. I substitute taught for the first few years we were here, but when we had our son, we couldn't afford child care, so now I do freelance writing work on the side, meaning I end up working 60-80 hours a week many weeks, in addition to caring for our son full time.
We are still paying off student loans, and while we are doing well in this area, almost always our bills are higher than we bring in, especially these days. It is very likely that though we always try to help others (which we do) that we will very much need to be on the receiving side of help very soon.
I don't say that as a sob story, so don't read it that way, but the truth is more pastors I know (and I know a lot) are in our situation than in the situation of buying designer shoes. I know pastors that have no idea how they are going to pay off their student loans, and when tax time comes around they get extreme anxiety over how much they owe the IRS this year. There are numerous pastors, just in my circle, whose children are on medicaid and receive WIC benefits just to get by. Many pastoral families are receiving food from the very food pantries their churches help to run for those in need in the community. Even pastors who aren't struggling in these seemingly more extreme ways have made a consistent number of jokes about their shoes from the sale bin, because they feel the absurdity at ever being able to pay that much for a luxury.
Often these people who would drop everything to be at your bedside in the hospital, who consider it a privilege to study and preach the word to you, who hold your hand through your financial crises, aren't talking about their own financial crises. They aren't talking about the years they have gone without health insurance, and depended on prayers that they wouldn't have an emergency. They aren't telling you about how they aren't able to go to the bedside of their own family members who are ill, because the trip home is too expensive. The truth is, they want to carry your burdens, they don't want to be a burden.
The number of pastors who have to work another job or 2 in order to continue serving their community is rising, and they do it. Not out of some weird savior complex, but because they aren't pastoring for the money, they are doing it because they feel called. They don't give up being at the bedside of their family members because they want to hold it over you, they do it because they love you, and they see you as their family too.
One of my favorite stories about Mother Teresa is that when they would get donations of bins of shoes, she would always look for the worst pair. When someone asked her about it, they discovered it was because those were the shoes she chose to wear. She wanted to make sure that none of the people she was serving got the worst pair. At the end of her life, her feet were deformed from years of this practice.
The reality is, most pastors do the same. They might not have a bin of shoes to go through and pick out the worst, though I think many of us would do that, if that was all we had. But metaphorically, they do that hard work and make those hard sacrifices.
Despite the sometimes held belief, we do work more than Sunday. We spend hours in prayer over you, we spend hours writing curriculum, stressing over church budgets, studying scripture, and writing sermons. We spend time in our communities getting to know people, and sharing life with them. We spend time grieving when you grieve, and rejoicing when you rejoice. We have gotten up many times in the middle of the night, to drive to houses on fumes in our gas tank, because we love those we serve. We have sometimes gone without, so that we could give you a few dollars that you come to the church desperately needing. We mow lawns, unclog toilets, and make sure the toilet paper is filled for Sunday. We stay up late into the night, and get up early in the morning, because we want to be there for you.
This is most of the pastors I know. They aren't celebrities putting on a show, wearing flashy clothes, and driving expensive cars. They are hard working people who love God and love their communities more than they love themselves, and are trying to live out their calling of service while also just being able to feed their families.
So, by all means, lets have the hard conversations about stewardship. Let's talk about how all of us who are Christians (not just pastors) should be using our money, our time, and our influence. But, let's also take time to walk a mile in the shoes of the majority of pastors, and remember that they cost far less than $2,000, and there's even a chance they are the worst pair out of a free bin, so that you can have the best.