CHALLENGING THE TITHE

This essay was published in 1992 within the series Occasional Papers from The Cathedral (Christ Church Cathedral, Hartford, Connecticut).

    I want to raise some questions about a long-standing, almost sacred tradition of interpretation regarding the so-called widow's mite, the Biblical reference to which has formed the basis for what has become the modern version of the Tetragrammaton, "the tithe." The poor widow, who dropped into the church treasury a far larger proportion of her meager income than those scribes who gave only token amounts relative to their disposal wealth, is held up to us, in the context of stewardship appeals, as a model for our giving to the Church. It has become fashionable to commit ourselves to "the Biblical notion of the tithe," or 10% of one's income - before taxes - for the work of the Church. This financial dedication, it is argued, should precede one's obligations to one's governments (federal, state, municipal), family, neighborhood, charities, peace and justice groups, etc.

     As a scholar of historical theology and religious ethics, I read both scripture and economic analyses with a critical eye. I propose that the current fascination with tithing misses two crucial economic and historical points: (1) it fails to recognize the differences between the historical context in which tithing emerged and our own time, and (2) it avoids the harder questions that should be asked about general economic policy in today's society.

     In a time of enormous economic injustice we need to press the question of why the widow is poor in the first place: what failures of moral, social, and economic policy keep her in poverty? We assume that she is not simply a "welfare queen" or otherwise she would not have been extolled in the first place. When that question has been addressed on the basis of the traditional moral criteria of justice and compassion, we then must ask whether tithing to the Church is in any way relevant to dealing with the widow's poverty. By failing to ask the right questions, we often wind up straining at the gnat of tithing and settle for swallowing the camel of an economic system which forces us to resort to band-aid, make-shift, voluntary, and church-based charitable efforts to solve complex social problems.

    We ought instead to focus on the structural, systemic, institutional changes needed in our economic practices, if our social and economic systems are to address responsibly and effectively the crisis of the poor and the needy. We should not expect the systemic problem of poverty to be solved by extolling the virtue of economic charity either on the part of the very victims of poverty or by private, voluntary groups - including the churches (which have an historical record of woeful ignorance about economic realities).

    The notion of the tithe has had a checkered and morally ambiguous history. It originally developed in ancient Israel as a way of supporting the priesthood, the guardians of the temple. (See "Tithe" in the Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible.) It was, in effect, a tax on the populace - possibly one that was coercive, and not voluntary - to pay the salaries of those persons whom the community had set aside to perform the specific functions assigned to priests in the temple. This notion of the tithe cannot be the model for its contemporary defenders, because that would make it appear to be nothing more than a crass appeal to enlarge the salaries of priests. Nor was it a uniquely Hebrew practice; and in at least one instance it was regarded as an abusive act of injustice by a bad king. (I Samuel 8:15) In Deuteronomy there is some evidence that the tithe, connected with the offering of the first fruits, became associated with a household affair, not primarily with the support of the temple priests. Deuteronomy is the first to mention the use of the tithe (every third year) for charitable purposes beyond the temple, namely for the Levite, the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow. Later, in the Priestly code, the tithe was to go exclusively to the Levites who in turn would give a tenth of it to the priests. This reveals that the notion and use of the tithe was a "living, developing thing," not, as some contemporary supporters of the tithe would have us believe, a fixed and immutable Biblical principle. In fact, only later did the tithe come to express the conviction, common to all contemporary uses of the term, that the fruits of the earth and of human labor belong to the Lord (though clearly that conviction did not need the tithe for its justification). All persons standing in the Biblical tradition can accept the claim that nothing we possess is absolutely ours as a sacred right; our ownership is actually a stewardship of the earth's resources. We are to use these resources for building up the creation, and especially for the building up of human community according to the principles of justice, fairness, and equity. This conviction should still be at the heart of our Christian discipleship.

    As we appropriate the underlying and more universal meaning of the later development of the tithe, we must recall a most significant feature about the early historical context in which the tithe developed; namely, the tithe was not intended primarily for the support of the poor and needy (assuming we aren't inclined to identify the priests as poor and needy). While present-day clergy may be poor relative to many of their wealthier parishioners, that fact is hardly a justification for misreading the historical record of the tithe in Biblical times. Moreover, when it was used to aid the sojourner, the fatherless, and widow, it was not added to or used to supplement a vast array of additional social taxes for the support of the poor and needy. Their needs could be met only if the first fruits of the land were given to them, and the tithe became the means of doing so. But that very fact suggests the fundamental difference between the historical/economic context of early Israel and contemporary society. We have evolved, positively I think, to the point where we understand in theory (if not always in practice -- witness the outrage at the recently enacted Connecticut state income tax) that every citizen should be taxed according to his or her economic means for the support of those needy members of the community.

    As a society we have decided that we have a moral obligation to address what the Roman Catholic Bishops have called the "preferential option for the poor." Therefore, modern societies have developed a whole system of taxations which seek to transfer resources from those who have to those who have not. While there are legitimate disagreements about the forms and details of taxation schemes, a taxation system at its root is ultimately an expression of a moral commitment - the commitment to assist those who require supportive services, the true costs of which they could not afford from their own meager economic resources.

    Today we are engaged in a great battle over the seriousness and the extent of that moral commitment. As a nation and as a state, and even in our local municipalities, we have historically been divided between different ethical positions: one calls us to an individualism in which self-interest plays the leading role, in which it is assumed that we can follow our own unlimited, private interests - provided that we do not interfere with the freedom of other individuals to pursue their unlimited, self-interests. On this basis, we resist any incursion into our private economic wealth by "government" in order to help others; these "others" are responsible for themselves, just as we are ostensibly ready to be responsible only for ourselves (or willing to rely on the charity of our friends in times of crisis: though one wonders if this distrust of government help would be as strong among the survivors of Hurricane Andrew).

    The other ethical position that still beats, however weakly, in the American breast is one that calls us to a commitment to a common good; within this context, the welfare of the whole community, especially its weaker and most vulnerable people, leads those of us with ample means to sacrifice (as a social, not private, obligation) some of our own interests; so that the demands of social and economic justice, fairness, and equity for the needy may be satisfied.

    In the past, our national abundance kept us from noticing that there could be a conflict between these two ethics. As long as we could continue to produce ample, ever-growing resources, we could trickle down to the most impoverished, mainly through private charity (often related to various church missions and social outreach agencies), enough aid to lift them out of the worst kinds of destitution, thereby providing them with the opportunity to make it on their own.

    However, today more and more people feel as if they have no more abundance from which to give, and many are choosing to abandon the ethic of the common good, in order to protect their own private financial interests within the ethic of individualistic self-reliance. In the process they are turning their backs on the moral underpinnings of a social system which has used its tax structures to support and fulfill the ethic of the common good.

    The tragedy is that as the moral foundation of community crumbles, as people retreat into an ethic of selfishness and "looking out for number #1," the responsibilities of serving the poor and needy are placed more and more on the backs of private charity. Increasingly individuals are called upon, out of private resources rather than social wealth, to address needs which at one time the community as a whole saw as its mandated duty, because it accepted the ethic of the common good. When this happens, individuals with meager means as well as private agencies working outside governmental structures are expected to provide the same help as individuals with ample resources. Only individuals (singly or in voluntary groups) are assumed to have moral character. As a result the social system becomes exempt from moral scrutiny and moral responsibility.

    The widow, who by the principles of the common good, justice and fairness, who ought to be able to expect the whole social community to be addressing these issues as well, is instead expected to address them herself regardless of her situation viz-a-viz the wealth of the larger society. Moreover, the most tragic injustice of all is to load onto already destitute and brutalized individuals the guilt of not giving one tenth of their meager incomes as tithes to support the Church (which in turn will presumably make an effort to assist the poverty-stricken) when these tithers themselves are the very poor whom the community as a whole ought to be supporting!

    This is not to assert that needy persons are incapable of extraordinary moral effort or are exempt from moral responsibility; in fact, proportional to their income, they often do far more than the wealthy in empowering others and sharing with them. Regrettably, a focus on the tithe and the widow's mite simply permits us to forget about the communal and social responsibilities to address the ever-growing discrepancy between the rich and the poor (a gap which has widened with alarming speed during recent years under "trickle-down economics" - a tax-system which favors the very wealthy over the middle class and virtually ignores the necessities of the impoverished, an economic system which rewards self-interested behavior and ridicules actions which seek the common good.

    When they become the dominant model of Christian moral responsibility, the widow's mite and the tithe simply produce needless guilt among the economically less well off, a moral satisfaction among the wealthy that personal charity alone will do the job, and an inadequate and inefficient way of dealing with the basic moral issue of our society: namely, how is our communal wealth, drawn from the labor of all, to be used equitably in the pursuit of economic and social justice?

    Ironically, the Church finds itself in an increasingly untenable situation with respect to helping the poor. Churches, as private groups, are simply unequipped, systemically as well as with respect to their general lack of political and economic expertise, to fill the vacuum left when society abandons its obligation of helping the needy. Churches simply cannot be expected to provide the kind of economic resources and infrastructure necessary for addressing effectively such society-wide issues as health-care for all, job procurement, worker retraining, conversion of defense plants to commercial uses, family planning, medical research, the national debt, etc.

    Appeals to the tithe can do nothing to remedy the helplessness of the Church, if it is expected to do what society as a whole has chosen not to do. At their best, churches and churchpeople can provide individual band-aids to those who are hurting. But unless churches are equipped to diagnose and treat the causes of the underlying disease, their band-aids will be perceived as trivial and insignificant. Religion in this context will truly fulfill Marx's claim that it is only an opiate to dull the pain until the medicine of social revolution removes the disease that gives rise to the pain. The tithe is as inadequate in this context as aspirin is in removing the causes of cancer.

    The real question we need to be asking is, "How can we as a nation both continue to produce and use resources to feed the destitute, house the homeless, educate the disadvantaged, combat racism, and preserve the environment, if we rely solely upon individual or private-group charity?" This issue is not solved by extracting more from the impoverished, by holding up as a moral ideal the sacrifice of the poor as in the widow's mite, or by extolling the tithe as if we have no existing social system for providing the very effects which the tithe was originally intended to provide.

    As Christians we need to look beyond the simplistic economic solutions of first-century Palestine. We are not primarily an agricultural society, small enough to address most of our problems without recourse to institutional and structural systems. We do have an obligation to be stewards of the resources of the earth and to acknowledge that we do not possess these except as gifts from God for use in building up God's community in which we are members; we also have an obligation to use our individual talents in the service of stewardship. However, the form of this stewardship, in a world that is a complex of interrelated, institutional, systemic structures, must also include the gifts of social wealth, of economic productivity, of institutional structures, and of social moral commitment to confront the injustices and needs of our time in a more creative, honest, and effective manner than tired old cliches about tithes and widow's mites. The form of stewardship for a simple agricultural society must not be allowed to put a stranglehold on the forms of stewardship for complicated industrial societies bound together by the sinews of technology and global interdependence.

     The Christian voice has been strangely silent during recent debates over Connecticut's state income tax. However, we have means within our tradition for bringing a moral perspective to the issue. We should be willing to use those means before it is all decided on the petty grounds of demagoguery and crass appeals to selfishness. The Gospel calls us to social justice; we can do no better thing for our community than to use our moral heritage to bring the principles of justice to bear where they are most needed - in the lives and actions of those who will decide what kind of just and compassionate state and nation we intend to be. And those people are us, including the persons we elect to do our social business in the legislatures and other branches of government. We cannot hide behind economic ignorance or simplistic slogans; the issue is a profoundly moral one. If we as a Christian community cannot speak on moral issues, then we had best stop speaking at all and confess our social irrelevance. I believe it is our conviction that our Faith is not inconsequential to the real issues of our time; we merely need to find the voices and the language in which to express it.