The Tithing Question

The Question: You girls wanna weigh in on this? Have you heard of full-tithe prayer, partial-tithe prayer or non-tithe prayer? Sounds like one gets from prayer what he/she pays for—-according to some folks.

Yesterday I asked if one tithes on gross income or net income. According to some it depends on how much of your prayer you wish answered. Could be true I suppose.

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The problem with this belief is it again embraces the mindset that God is some cosmic killjoy looking for mandatory obedience by golly or else. I’ve heard some preachers insist that if you didn’t pay your tithes, you would get a flat tire or unexpected bill the next week. This teaching perpetuates the mindset that God is after your money and He’s going to get it one way or another.

Unfortunately, this shows we still have no understanding of the new covenant under Christ. The law in the Old Testament was in place to exact obedience through external punishment. Minor infractions resulted in uncleanness and the sacrifice of many animals. Major sins brought the death penalty, often in ways calculated to bring optimum pain and humiliation (the sin of adultery comes to mind).

Then Jesus comes on the scene with a new covenant, the law of love. Did God change? No. But Jesus fulfilled the Law through His sinless life and initiated a change in the relationship between God and man. No longer did God have to rely on external circumstances (the threats of being unclean, offering animal sacrifices, being stoned to death) to exact obedience and right behavior from His people. Instead, we now have the Holy Spirit to reveal the Scriptures to all of us, and to convict us of sin. The playing field has moved from the external circumstances mandating a heart-change, to internal motivation. Prime example: Jesus forgave the woman caught in adultery and told her to go and sin no more. In a tension-filled moment, He saved her life by turning the judgmental stares of those ready to stone her onto themselves. Why? Because His coming ushered in a new way of doing things.

The reality is God is after your heart. These are actual reasons for hindered prayer in scripture:

Wrong motives: “You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions” (James 4:3).

Dishonoring your wife: “…showing honor to the woman as the weaker vessel, since they are heirs with you of the grace of life, so that your prayers may not be hindered” (1 Peter 3:7).

Unconfessed sin: “If I had cherished iniquity in my heart, the Lord would not have listened” (Psalm 66:18)

Doubt: “…who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord” (James 1:5-7).

There may be a few others, but notice that all have to do with the heart. Nowhere here does it say that God will only listen to part of your prayer if you bring in part of your tithes. If God only answers part of your prayer and you’re partial-tithing, it’s because of your motives and not your actions. He weighs your heart.

Let’s look at the “tithing chapter” that most refer to when discussing this issue. Malachi 3 (NKJV):

⁸ “Will a man rob God?
Yet you have robbed Me!
But you say,
‘In what way have we robbed You?’
In tithes and offerings.
⁹ You are cursed with a curse,
For you have robbed Me,
Even this whole nation.
¹⁰ Bring all the tithes into the storehouse,
That there may be food in My house,
And try Me now in this,”
Says the Lord of hosts,
“If I will not open for you the windows of heaven
And pour out for you such blessing
That there will not be room enough to receive it.

¹¹ “And I will rebuke the devourer for your sakes,
So that he will not destroy the fruit of your ground,
Nor shall the vine fail to bear fruit for you in the field,”
Says the Lord of hosts;
¹² “And all nations will call you blessed,
For you will be a delightful land,”
Says the Lord of hosts.

Notice that God doesn’t say here that He’s destroying the fruit of the ground or robbing the people. Their lack of tithing put them under a curse, but it doesn’t say that He cursed them. Rather, their sinful motives (Malachi also talks about how the priests were offering imperfect sacrifices–blind and lame animals–on the altar) were putting them back under the curse that the Law was supposed to shield them from until Jesus came and brought in the new covenant. God wanted to bless them, but couldn’t do so because His priests were corrupt.

James says that religion that is acceptable to God is to look after orphans and widows, and to keep our hearts pure. The purpose of tithing in a practical sense is to equip the church to help those in need and to further the testimony of Jesus. That is the true tragedy of not tithing–we miss that opportunity to be a blessing.

For Mimi

It’s the age-old love story: the doting couple, inseparable on their life-long honeymoon unwilling to live separated by death for more than a few months. The woman who was cherished as a bride all of her married life following into eternity the beloved husband who preceded her two months before. Close your eyes and you can hear the swell of stringed-music and picture them dancing on a beach somewhere in the Milky Way. Triumphant love. Death cheated.

But that isn’t reality.

Reality is better.

There is another Bridegroom in this picture, One who loved her better and far longer. With the passing of days into years, the joy in His heart grew, His eyes fixed on February 20 and what it would mean for them. Her homecoming. The day when all barriers between them fell to ashes as weak flesh transformed into glorified immortality and entered the throne room of her Bridegroom King. This is the real love story, for which the deep love of an earthly husband–even at its purest and sweetest–was only ever a shadowy archetype.

An old song by the group Anointed states, “Life is a dream, and Heaven’s reality and if we just hold on then we will wake up to the face of God.” It takes tenacious love to join in eternity the One who is love defined. The good news is simply that we were created for this love. It doesn’t always make sense; actually, it rarely ever makes sense, any more than the confusing jumble of our dreams make sense at the dawning of day. Our task is simply to love through the pain until we see clearly, face to face. The truth is that God is, Jesus died, He is good, and He loves. The reality of this truth does not alter with the ever-shifting nature of our circumstance. We love through circumstance, making pain a means of progress as we seek to love like Him. At the end of this chapter, when we step into the spirit and leave behind the body, no dearer words are those than the approval-laced, burning-with-love “Well done!” of Jesus. It is worth every broken place.

What happens at death is best shown in the love story of Isaac and Rebekah. An emissary comes with an invitation you cannot refuse. At the moment of salvation, you join the convoy and start your journey to the home of your Betrothed, at times peppering your Gide–the Holy Spirit–with questions. What’s He like? How does He look? What pleases Him? Some, He answers. He is light and in Him there is no darkness. His face shines like the sun, and His eyes burn with living passion. He loves it when you love Him back. As the journey approaches its destination, you soon see the Bridegroom coming out to meet you, too eager to wait at home for your arrival. One look in His burning eyes is assurance that every secret motive of the heart is examined and understood. This Man knows you completely, loves you unconditionally, and made provision for every broken place when you accepted His proposal.

This is the love that makes life worth it and gives the strength to keep running back to Him when the journey leaves us battered and weary. Forever is real. Join the procession.

Writing it Out

Sometimes I wonder what will be left when the Carpenter is finished. Sometimes it feels like my part in the display is to be the sawdust scattered across the floor. There’s such tension between being called and being humble. It seems the more I “feel” it, the less impact I have; the deader my heart, the more He moves.

I know His strength is made perfect in our weaknesses, but I don’t know how to find peace in my weakness. I don’t want to be sawdust. I don’t even want to be the workbench used to assemble the masterpiece. I’m no David with contentment at being His doorkeeper. No, not yet. This rebellious heart is Saul, fearing the people and assuming position.

It’s all very well and good to quote Paul and refer to his joy in lowliness, or to sing of Jesus the meekest one. The truth is, no matter how much I say I want it, a major part of me doesn’t. I don’t glory in weakness. I despise those parts of myself that are weak. I don’t embrace humility with a joy of promoting others. I dissect others and secretly gloat over the areas where I feel prettier/holier/more talented. Even recognizing the wretched ugliness in such an admission has not been enough to part company with this mirror-self. So He keeps sanding, and the cracks keep surfacing. Sanding? Chiseling, more like.

How do you hear the words that He has great dreams for you and not feel threatened when you are outshined and swept aside? How do you stand, or even kneel in pious acquiescence when the years slip into each other and you realize your illusions of grandeur are the very things that keep bringing down the sandpaper? It’s all about surrender, and the faster the better. If only it were as easy as making that simple statement. Unfortunately, the unrenewed mind likes traveling in familiar grooves and I don’t like the discipline required to push the off-switch. “Get up early to start the day with the Word? Every day? Me?” Awake, you self-indulgent sleeper.

They say it’s all about continuing to say “yes;” but the process is killing me–which, I guess is the point. Dead to self and alive to God. The very fact that I still wonder what I will have left–what piece of me will remain in the fragments–shows how far I have to go. What He wants is a vessel free from this sense of me.

Submission. Humility. Love. The more I try it seems the further I am from them. Where are these fruits that are supposed to mark my life? Have I lost the fruit in seeking first the signs?

God have mercy on me–I do not have the strength today to pray again, “break me.” He knows how much a heart can handle at once. Instead I bow my head… Precious Christ…I have need….

Lead Me On

I’ve never been good at letting go. Maybe it’s the result of too many novels as a child, a latent demand for happily-ever-after. Maybe it’s faith, waiting for the hope of tomorrow–for the “One Day” of eternity when all wrongs will be righted.

It’s been over a week since I first heard the baby within me was dead. (Can it really be?). Today we received a reprieve in the week of steady rain by means of an early-morning snow melting into brilliant afternoon sunshine. Life has resumed some form of normalcy. JD and I are even starting to laugh again; maybe a little hollowly at first, but a forerunner of the happiness we believe we will feel again. Joy is not measured in happiness, and can only be kept down so long. The powerful emotions that accompanied me through process of miscarriage are dwindling into a quiet, blank place in my heart. I don’t ask how life can continue as if my Kyla never existed. It is the mercy of God that we don’t camp in the death-shadowed valley–He promises to lead us through and that necessitates our moving forward.

Why do I write this? I realize it is not the hindsight, look-at-what-God-has-shown-me kind of post I normally write (although He has made His Presence known to us in a tender way). I write because I’m in the middle of the lesson, and I want to affirm in my brokenness that I still love my Jesus. I write because I don’t understand why He is allowing us to walk this road, but I choose to trust Him anyway. I write because I’m struggling with the “why” questions, but I believe He’s big enough to handle them in time. I write because I know that worship is most valuable when it is sacrificed, that death is a prelude to life, that my words are empty if I never face bleakness, and that voluntary love is worthless if there is never difficulty in the choice. We cannot offer God unconditional love in the way He offers it to us. Unconditional love in the way we understand it means that we choose to love even when the other person has committed an atrocity. God cannot be evil. His nature is goodness and justice. He cannot sin against us. Therefore, our offering of unconditional love to Him must take the form of unoffended love when He allows us to face what we know He could have spared us. I don’t understand You. I don’t understand why. But You are good. You are always good.

I write because I am not without hope; because I know the blank place will fall into joy again as surely as the stabbing of grief has already quieted to an ache. I write because I don’t want to forget this place–because the purpose of suffering has always been to conform us to His image. I don’t want to lose sight of the purpose in the pain of the process.

I have a daughter. My child waits for me with my Savior. How will our relationship be when we meet? I have more questions than answers. But I know we will meet. I will know her. She is mine for eternity as long as I run this race well.

My sweet little boy has come and leaned his head on my arm as I write. Although a place in my heart is empty, my arms are still full and for that I am supremely thankful.

You are with me. Your rod and Your staff are my comfort.

Enough

Today is December 20, 2012, and I’ve officially seen one too many pictures, heard one too many stories, read one too many articles about children who have died before they had a chance to live.  I’ve had enough.

Enough needless casualties of war.

Enough mutilated children caught in crossfire.

Enough unchecked wickedness.

Enough misery masquerading as “God’s will.”

Enough lies that God doesn’t care.

‘Who sinned that this man was born blind?’  ’Neither, but that the work of God might be manifested in his life.”  God is glorified in healing and in miracles, not in the suffering of children.  Not in the hopelessness of broken marriages.  Not in the grief of death before its time.  Enough.

Is your faith ready for this?  Do you have the determination of Bartimaeus welling in you as a shout that bursts forth the more “they” try to silence you?  Can you cling to the One who was beaten beyond recognition specifically for the healing of our bodies–not just for your own healing but with the determination that He loves to heal?

We give up on people too easily.

No, hear me.  We give up too easily.  We are fickle with our love, with our prayers, with our compassion.  We look for loopholes not to pray, not to trust, not to hang on with both hands.  Both hands?  We should be holding on with both feet and teeth too!  Where is the faith that snatches the unbeliever from the fire?  Where is the dogmatic faith that stares down doctors and defies them to harvest the organs of the vegetative child God promised would live?  Where is the faith that restores relationships?  That raises the dead?  Do we have the courage to lay hands on the sick in grocery stores and expect miracles?

God have mercy on our apathy, our quickness to believe that chronic pain (both emotionally and physically) is God’s will.

These signs WILL FOLLOW those who believe…