About Tentmaking

TENTMAKING: An Old Model For a New Age

Tentmaking is the activity of Christians who, while dedicating themselves to ministry (with little or no pay) necessarily maintains a second job to support him or herself.  The term comes from the way in which the apostle Paul supported himself while living and preaching the Gospel in Corinth (Acts 18:3). But today the term is often mentioned in an apologetic way. 

Let me begin with one startling fact: within most of the so-called “mainline church” only a few churches can support a full-time member of the clergy. Yet most parishes still see that as a worthy objective for which to strive in spite of diminishing members and resources. Annual denominational meetings are often an exercise in triage -- how can we stop the bleeding and save the church? And each parish meeting is frequently an agonizing realization of this situation.

In my 20 years of ministry I have seen a number of variations on triage: yoked and three-point parishes, married clergy who have a spouse with a full-time job and health insurance, living off the parish endowment, sustaining grants from the diocese, and permanent supply clergy.

It is the latter response that I wish to consider.

I serve a small parish with an average Sunday attendance of about 25 worshipers. It is  a small church with a capacity of not more than 60 souls. We take no money from our denomination, pay our bills, and adequately maintain our building and its grounds. In short, we are solvent and sustainable. 

And the reason we are is that I chose to serve the parish at the going rate of  “supply clergy” (currently at the rate of $125/Sunday plus mileage). Additionally, I am available for pastoral emergencies, weekly teaching sessions during Advent and Lent, vestry meetings and other activities of the parish. ). If you do the math you will see that this is a sustainable expense for most all small parishes and removes them from the “failing” category and makes them active and sustainable entities.

In the five parishes I have served since my ordination, all have been small and all have thought of themselves as somehow less because they could not afford full-time clergy. This negative thinking often caused them to be focused not on the future but on a past that will never happen again (and, perhaps, never did).

What I hear from my generation of grey-heads is frequently a rosy depiction of the 1950s when “everyone” went to church. However, a closer examination of those days will quickly remind us that faith or discipleship should never be assessed by church attendance.

So, I have a proposal for today’s small churches, let’s forget about the past and get on with today and all its challenges following Jesus in our highly attention-competitive age, diminishing church attendance, and many among us using the word “none” to best describe their religion or denomination.

What do Christians offer to the world today? It is important that we be able to clearly answer this provocative question. As a start, we can begin to live lives consistent with who we say we honor and believe in. Some observers of Christian behavior say those of us who do attend church worship it as an idol -- a social club and fraternal organization of friendly, like-minded members.

Try that out with a twenty or thirty year old, “Would you like to join a nice social club of like-minded people?” and see what happens. Let’s face it. Those of us who follow Jesus are radical troublemakers. We want to see God’s reign being to happen now not some time in the future. The foundational text of this radical trouble-making lies within the 25th chapter of Matthew's gospel:

 ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’

You know what I am getting at don’t you? The church of today is simply a meeting, teaching and strengthening place. Not a place to be worshiped. Whereas, the primary acts of  “doing” Jesus goes on outside the building in the community and into the world. And we do that best not by what we say but by what we do – doing Jesus. And doing Jesus has to do with elevating the underclass and ministering to the disfranchised in our economy. If we don’t take care of them, we don’t take care of Jesus. It’s that simple and that difficult regardless of one's politics!

It’s time for Christians to re-think, re-structure, and, yes, re-act.

Thinking About Bishops

A 13^th century Christian, Richard of Chichester, was a tireless student of theology. He was constant in devotion to God and his life was filled with unselfish service to others. Although he was born to a prosperous family, he was orphaned at an early age and soon left impoverished by a negligent guardian. He entered Oxford unable to afford even a gown or a fire in winter. Nevertheless, he did very well in his studies and was eventually able to go on to further study at the University of Paris and at Bologna.

Richard returned to England as a small-town parson. His fame as a counselor and preacher soon spread far and wide. Against the wishes of King Henry III, Richard was consecrated Bishop of Chichester. In response, the king denied him access to the cathedral, so Richard spent two years wandering barefoot through his diocese, living very simply on the charity of his flock.

When the quarrel with the king was finally settled and Richard was given access to the cathedral and bishop's residence, he lived there almost as a beggar, wearing a hair shirt, fasting often, and sleeping on the floor. Nevertheless, he was an efficient administrator and a stern disciplinarian when the occasion called for it. He entertained the poor, however, lavishly and ultimately willed his episcopal estate to the poor, to hospitals, and to widows and orphans.

The words of hymn 654 in The Hymnal 1982 are attributed to him, “Day by day, dear Lord, of thee three things I pray: to see thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly, day by day.”  (From "Holy Men, Holy Women.")

Another example is Aidan of Lindisfarne in the 7th century. He was a bishop and steadfast defender of Celtic Christian practices. King Oswald of Northumbria once gave him a horse and a cart for his journeys after learning he usually traveled on foot. Soon after, Aidan met a beggar and gave him both the horse and cart. This upset the king, yet Aidan was able to convince him that this was the correct thing for a Christian to do.

In the tradition of Christian Orthodoxy, the bishop is to be both servant to his people, father to his flock, and is to represents Christ in the midst of his diocese. Therefore, he must be compassionate, humble, kindhearted and available to his people. He must be humble, lest he fall into the trap of seeing this sacred office as his divine right to lord over those under him.

Orthodoxy does not have Lord bishops [prince prelates as bishops], but monks who are consecrated to serve as pastors and fathers to their people. The western medieval imagery of Lord bishops has never had a place in Orthodoxy, and their best bishops have been men of holiness, humility and simplicity. (For more see Monkrock.)

With the recent election of the Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio of Buenos Aires of head of the Roman Catholic Church and his taking of the name "Francis" (after the 13th century saint by that name) I have heard and read that many of my Catholic friends have an expectation that this pope will be more of a servant leader to the Church. This of course will not be easy. But there are some strong signs that Francis intends to be different. For example, after his election the word "bishop" crossed his lips more than "pope" or "pontiff" and he referred to himself first as the bishop of Rome and to the former pope not as a retired pope but emeritus bishop. And there was something genuine about the way he referred to our journey of faith as one that we take together in love and trust. When he asked for help from those assembled that day in Rome, he asked for help from those assembled, bowed his head, and received prayer from those assembled. (For more click here.)

I have a personal story about a humble religious leader that goes back to my days on the International Peace Council in the 90s. It was when I participated in a peace march in Cambodia and met and walked with the man who was the leader of Cambodian Buddhism, the late Maha Ghosananda. To me, this man was almost Christ-like in his humility, love and forgiveness to the Khmer Rouge who had exterminated his family in their reign of genocide. One evening, he even offered me his bed and would have gladly slept on the floor of the temple in which we were staying. He literally exuded love, patience and humility.

There is a strong tradition within the Christian Church and most of the enduring religions of the world to try to raise up humble and servant leaders. Frequently they fail. Yet when a true servant leader emerges, it is truly like the breath of God!

Wouldn't it be nice (and even edifying) if our religious leaders acted more like servants than princes?