The reference is to Malachi 3 & 4 where the "proud . . . and all that do wickedly" including those who have not paid tithes "shall be stubble" in the day that shall "burn as an oven" (Malachi 4:1). The essence of Malachi 4 is repeated in LDS scripture, Doctrine & Covenants 64: 23: "Behold, now it is called today until the coming of the Son of Man, and verily it is a day of sacrifice, a day for the tithing of my people; for he that is tithed shall not be burned at his coming." The humor of the above cartoon arises from the dissonance between the scriptures' fiery language and the casual accountant-like attitude of the angel. The latter's behavior resonants with the reader; like most things concerning money, the accountant aspect of tithing never strays far from the religious principle. It is reflected especially in tithing lore.
Mormons follow the principle of tithing. They contribute 10% of their income (gross or net) to the church and are encouraged to donate extra money (called fast offerings) to welfare and humanitarian funds managed by the church (who often work through the Red Cross). Tithing money is used to build temples and church buildings, maintain genealogical libraries, fund missionary programs and church educational institutions and pay for church materials. The principle is an outgrowth of consecration, an economic system attempted by Joseph Smith and continued, for a time, by Brigham Young. In consecration all goods and belongings were pooled. They were then re-distributed by church leaders according to need. It was not, as has often been thought, a form of communism since not all goods were held in common. Rather, members became stewards over property or particular items.
As can be imagined, consecration eventually failed. Grudges arose based on who managed what; there was also a lopsided division of labor where the committed did the majority of the work while supporting the rest of the community. Even amongst the religiously sincere, this becomes difficult to take. Tithing, which had been in place and practiced intermittently since the 1830s, was re-emphasized as a "binding obligation of church membership" in 1899 by church president Lorenzo Snow (Arrington, 210, 250). Currently, tithes are expected from full-time members and the principle is addressed in member-bishop interviews.
Over the years, many stories have adhered to the principle. A three-part motif underlies many of the stories; the protagonist suffers a time of hardship; the protagonist pays tithing; the protagonist receives blessings that are material in nature. The following story, printed in 2005, contains all three elements of the motif and is characteristic of most tithing stories:
Story can be found at www.lds.org.Sarah Westbrook's story begins, as do many tithing narratives, with hardship. She and her husband are doing all they can under trying circumstances. Faced with a "pile of bills," she is tempted not to pay tithing. She adheres to the principle without any thought of reward. She exercises faith: "Somehow things would work out." She is blessed soon afterwards with material and temporal relief. (The twice-checked miracle is also a common motif in Mormon narratives; at first glance, the problem is irreparable; at second glance, it has disappeared.) The presence of these motifs in Westbrook's account in no way negate the truth of the events. The story is not meant to be fiction. What they do indicate is a common narrative structure.
The story appears in the "Latter-Day Saint Voices" section of the Ensign, a monthly church magazine. The location of the tale, amongst other anecdotes submitted by members, reflects the verbal norm of the narrative. Tithing stories are usually related in church settings: testimony meetings (where members stand and relate their feelings about church teachings) and Sunday School. These stories, although they are elicited by specific contexts, are voluntarily given, often intensely personal and individualistic. Yet the three elements recur. The type of hardship varies—loss of job, illness—and the form of blessing also varies—money in the mailbox, donated groceries—but the blessing is invariably materialistic in nature. In the following story, related to me fourth-hand, the hardship is a recent divorce; the blessing, childcare, is relevant to the circumstances:
I believe it was in fast and testimony meeting that a RM [Return Missionary] told about either a convert or a less active person on his mission. I think the story was she was a single mother and had a child. She wasn't paying tithing because she had to pay for childcare and she didn't think she could do both. I think the story went that she decided she would pay the tithing, and after she gave the Bishop's [sic] her tithing, she ran into someone that offered childcare for less than she was paying now. The difference between the two places was exactly the same amount as her tithing was. Again, I make no claims about the accuracy of the story. (E-mail from Carole Snyder to author.)This narrative, based on a verbal account, is less complex and detailed than the written account, but all three elements are present. In both cases, financial aid occurs after faith has been demonstrated and the tithing has been paid. The miracle is further emphasized in the latter story when it turns out that the tithing is equal to the amount of money saved (another common motif).
The three-part motif has appeared not only in contemporary reminiscences, it has been applied to an event in Mormon history. In 1899 Lorenzo Snow visited St. George, Utah which was experiencing "one of its periodic drougths [sic]" (Larson, 653). He preached the law of tithing, calling on the Saints to show generosity to the Lord. If they did, the drought would end. In 1963, a movie, Windows of Heaven, was made of the incident. Windows of Heaven portrays Lorenzo Snow as an old and weary man. He comes to St. George at the Lord's prompting but does not fully understand why. During his sermon, he experiences a dramatic instance of revelation; his mention of tithing occurs spontaneously and unexpectedly.
Various eyewitnesses and historians took exception to the movie. St. George resident, Will Brooks, who was present at the sermon, protested several details. "President Snow was not weak and shaky," he stated in his memoirs (written down by his wife, Juanita Brooks). "Nor was there a great dramatic moment . . . He made a good talk, a strong talk. He did pause for a while at one point, but the audience saw nothing that could be interpreted as a revelation" (64). In fact, President Snow's decision to speak about tithing was not as unplanned as Windows of Heaven dramatically depicts. In the given speech, President Snow declared, "I come here now with my brethren that you may understand what is required of you as a people under the peculiar conditions in which the Church is now placed" and went on to emphasize the law of tithing "[which] is not anything new" (Larson, 653). The "peculiar conditions" referred to was the church's immense debt at the time. President Snow went on from St. George to address other congregations throughout Utah on the subject. Drought aside—"[b]y fall the rains [in St. George] seemed to have resumed their normal cycle" (653)--his emphasis bore fruit since the church "by 1904 . . . had overcome the 1898 deficit of $1.25 million and had a net worth of $3.2 million" (Arrington, 251).
Accurate or not, the movie was cut in 1996 to become part of a church teaching video. The cut movie utilizes the three-part motif. The moment of revelation is shown followed by a scene in which members express doubt: will the drought really end? Despite their doubts, they plant their crops and pay tithing, plus extra. "The prophet of the Lord promised us rain," states one character. "It'll come." The clip ends with a thunderstorm over a field of corn. The problem (drought) is solved by material aid (rain) due to faith and commitment to the principle (Saints pay tithing, plus offerings).
The equating of tithing with material blessings is evident in this clip and in the aforementioned stories. Fig. 2 plays on the equation's prevalence amongst Mormons. The reference is also from Malachi: "Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse... and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it" (Malachi 3:10). The association of blessings with cash is so common a concept, its reduction to a literal image is easily recognized as hyperbolic exaggeration (recognition and exaggeration both being important aspects of humor). These tangible considerations possibly stem from the Protestant, middle-class and pioneer origins of the Church; few slackers made it through the first years in Utah when material considerations gained overwhelming importance. However, such worldliness can be distasteful when examined too closely as indicated by the next cartoon (fig. 3). The teenager's (very teenagery) retort alters "good" from a matter of character to a matter of money, not a desirable or appealing mental roadmap.
Nevertheless, the secular side of tithing is difficult to avoid. Mormons are also instructed to sacrifice their time to visit the sick and needy but time is an elusive quality, hard to gauge in monetary terms; after all, I will spend hours doing things I like with no thought of a paycheck. Tithing, however, involves a tangible reckoning: I have this much money--I am giving up this much. As in Westbrook's narrative, it is customary to perceive tithing in terms of a service or commodity: "The amount I’m going to pay won’t even pay the electric bill for the stake center," Westbrook writes, "but it would make a huge difference to me." Such assessments are common. Soon after my parents married, my mother, while waiting for the church service to begin, glanced down at her and my father's tithing receipt. Shocked, she realized that the amount of money in her hand could purchase wall-to-wall carpeting in their new living room (something that meant a great deal to her, a new bride).
This secular, accountant-like response is further emphasized by the church's use of tithing and other monetary contributions. Records of humanitarian aid (funded by fast offerings) appear frequently in the Church News, a weekly LDS newspaper. Regarding Hurricane Katrina, the September 1, 2005 Church News reported that "14 semi-trucks with Church supplies—including water, food, hygiene kits, tarps, generators and chain saws—reached the disaster zone within a matter of hours . . . Also, supplies from bishops' storehouses in [the Gulf area] were delivered . . . Twelve more semitrailer loads of supplies left the Salt Lake City Bishops' Storehouse the week of the disaster" (3). Although in many ways this is simply good PR, such reports also indicate the Church's desire to steer clear of suspicions regarding financial chicanery. Churches and money scandals have an unfortunate history in America.
Not only do the central church offices practice fiscal responsibility, the individual congregations (Wards and Stakes) encourage it as well. An individual hands her tithing, in an envelope, to one of the bishopric (the bishop or his two counselors). Tithing is never handed directly to the ward finance clerk. Every Sunday, a member of the bishopric and the finance clerk open and count the money together. The money is then deposited (it is never kept in the building overnight) in the local bank. On Monday morning, the money is electronically transferred to Salt Lake. Fast offerings remain in the ward, although any surplus--unused amounts--are sent on to the stake level. This hearkens back to the early practice of tithing where goods were distributed according to need, rather than according to equality (everyone gets the same) or hierarchy (the rich, or poor, deserve the most). Of course, such a system relies on fair-minded people to carry it out. Procedures arise to enforce fair-mindedness. A yearly audit is performed on the church's accounts; the results of the audit are reported in the first of the biannual church-wide conferences. Members who spend their own money on church events are reimbursed based on receipts. Members who apply for church welfare are kept within strict budgets (in theory, at least).
This orderly approach and the practical use of tithing are addressed in another cartoon (fig. 4) in which the businesslike Melchizedek applauds Abraham's intentions but adds, "We also need about 6,500 camels for a building project." Abraham is cited in Mormon teachings as the first tithee. In Genesis 14: 20, Abraham "gave [Melchizedek king of Salem] tithes of all." Possibly, the three-part motif began with this story of origin: in Genesis 14, Abraham has just rescued his brother Lot from a war. Shortly after paying tithes, Abraham rejects--with that lovely scorn reserved for Old Testament prophets--bribes from another king: "I will not take from a thread even to a shoelatchet, and that I will not take any thing that is thine, lest thou shouldest say, I have made Abram rich" (14:23). Shortly afterwards (scripture-wise), Abraham is given a promise of great posterity and land (Genesis 15: 5, 18). As the cartoonist reminds us, even in Abraham's day, money wasn't always spiritual.
However, the principle of tithing does have revelatory origins (according to Joseph Smith) and is considered a spiritual law by Mormons. In an effort to counteract tithing's intrinsically secular side, recent church sermons have attempted to focus on those spiritual aspects. In a 2002 General Conference talk, Elder Robert D. Hales referred to tithing as a "test of faith with eternal blessings." "Like the outward physical ordinances of baptism and the sacrament," he stated, "the commandment to pay tithing requires temporal sacrifice, which ultimately yields great spiritual blessings." He then gave the following story:
I know of a couple who lived thousands of miles from the nearest temple. Although they earned little, they faithfully paid their tithing and saved all that they could to journey to the house of the Lord. After a year, the husband’s brother—not a member of the Church—unexpectedly came forward and offered them two airplane tickets. This temporal blessing made possible the spiritual blessings of their temple endowments and sealing. An additional spiritual blessing came later as the brother, touched by the couple’s humble faithfulness, joined the Church. (Hale, 27).The story contains the traditional narrative: the couple "earned little," yet they paid their tithing; a relation then provided them with the worldly means to accomplish their goal. However, the importance of the "temporal blessing" is its spiritual qualifications: the couple is able to attend the temple; later the relation joins the church. A 2003 Ensign article strikes a similar note; while reaffirming that tithing can lead one to "prosper," the article goes on to state "[t]his prosperity consists of more than material goods . . . [i]t includes family solidarity and spiritual increase" ("Visiting Teaching Message," 52). Paying tithing is not just another form of playing the lottery: What prizes will God hand out this time?
In the tension between the spiritual principle--it is a "standing law unto my [Saints] forever, for my holy priesthood," Joseph Smith declared (D&C 119:4)—and the accountant-like handling of that principle, tithing lore (the three-part motif; the two-part miracle; the personal nature of the blessing) forms a kind of buffer zone. Money can cause unhappiness, as any family counselor will attest. There seems to be a fundamental, if disturbing, link between self-esteem and money; personal security and money; relationships and money. Anxiety over money (or resources) is a constant refrain in the human experience (and not, contrary to current academic attitudes, reserved for capitalistic countries). To approach the source of anxiety too closely (part with 10% of your income) is to give rise to passionate, and possibly negative, feelings. Rather than associate such feelings with the religious, faith-based principle, and hence with the church, members create narratives which operate as coping mechanisms. Tithing lore is a way of lessening or lightening financial quandaries (it is not unlikely that people play the lottery for the same reason: to form a buffer between one's day-to-day financial survival and the feelings associated with one's paycheck, job, boss, rent, grocery bill, etc.).
In his book about George Magoon, Edward D. Ives postulates that stories about Magoon carry out a similar function to that of tithing lore; the storytellers (and listeners) applaud Magoon's rejection of authority, yet by making Magoon into a folk hero, they also distance themselves from his troublesome law-breaking behavior. To Ives, these stories are "more potent as forces of accommodation than as charters for resistance" (301), helping the tellers and listeners to survive a difficult transition in their communities. Likewise, tithing stories address the troublesome aspects of tithing without undermining the religious principle. The lore reaffirms the hardships associated with the sacrifice of money without negating the rightness of the sacrifice.
Hardship is, after all, a common subject in religious circles (as it is elsewhere). "[Jesus] never said it would be easy; he only said it would be worth it," is a common refrain in Mormon circles (I believe it is actually a general Christian quote and probably originated outside of Mormonism). The quote is a reminder that the hardships of life don't disappear just because one goes to church. The quote also provides comfort: it's okay if you're overwhelmed, everybody is. Likewise, tithing stories provide comfort through their acknowledgement of the trials of life. Religious faith does not (any more than any other system) automatically produce passive or myopic believers, gazing on life through rose-colored glasses. The Pollyanna quality of many religious tales is often pounced on by outsiders who fail to spot the substance of the "lessons." Religious people, it would seem, talk about everything, from death, marriage and sexuality to political issues, from uncertainties over theology to religious conflicts and loss of faith.
And, of course, money. Tithing lore amongst Mormons indicates an ongoing interest in money, the problems of money, the long term effects of having it, not having it. A 2002 Ensign article about marriage emphasized the importance of proper financial management in order to avoid stress between couples (Cleveland, 38) while a 2003 message from the women's organization of the church stressed the practice of "provident living . . . the wise planning of financial matters" which includes obedience to the law of tithing ("Visiting Teaching Message," 52). There is a strong practical side to these articles and to the more personal discussions amongst members: an awareness of problems that should be combated through both spiritual and temporal means.
As well as offering practical advice and comfort, tithing lore also forms a communication bridge regarding a difficult, and often private, subject. Tithing stories parallel other discussions about money. "What would you do if you won the lottery?" my friends and I say to each other. I don't play the lottery, and my friends rarely do. The question isn't literal, at least not in the "Have you balanced your checkbook lately?" sense. It involves fantasizing ("I would travel." "I would move into a nicer apartment.") as well as a type of confessional, a recognition of the monetary hardships we all experience. I don't tell my friends my tax bracket or ask them about their school loans ("So how much money do you owe the government?") but I can sympathize and request sympathy nonetheless.
Tithing lore creates a similar bridge between private and public worlds. When my mother tells the story of the tithing receipt (she has never mentioned the exact amount), she goes on to assert the positive nature of her experience; despite her shock, it was right for her to know how much tithing she and my father were paying; she needed to understand the details of their sacrifice. The story has significance not only in terms of faith but gender. Since my father handles the family finances, my mother's knowledge of their tithing contribution leapt a gendered zone; tithing isn't something men do while women watch; it is something men and women do together.
Considering its weighty, business-like relevance, it should come as no surprise that many tithing cartoons and stories failed to interest me as a child. I didn't understand what it meant to be subtle (see fig. 2) or why it mattered or why it was funny. I received an allowance but unlike my next oldest brother, never saved a penny of it. I was rather notoriously clueless on the subject of budgeting. Only as I grew older, and took on financial responsibilities of my own (paying taxes, rent) did I begin to comprehend both the need for tithing lore and the humor surrounding it.
The stories echo a particular and very real aspect of adulthood. For this reason, the folkloric nature of tithing stories, their common three-part motif, should not be seen as discrediting the truthfulness of the stories. Some tales, like the fourth-hand account above, may be debatable from a purely historical point of view. Others, like the printed account (first-hand, delivered through a published medium), may have more historical feasibility, especially since the author gives her name and her ward. The use of a similar narrative structure means only that the structure is familiar to the individuals telling the story. However, the issue, in neither case, is empirical accuracy and the stories do not belong in the realm of historical research. They are not told to convince the listener/reader, "Yes, really, this happened to me;" rather, the stories are told to convince the listener/reader, "Yes, really, you can pay tithing and survive." Tithing lore, as Kathy Neustadt argues regarding the Allen's Neck clambake, is an affirmation of a practice already in place, a rally around a commitment already made: Yeah, I know it's tough, but it's still the right thing to do. Neustadt argues that the stories told at the clambake and about the clambake are "recognition and appreciation of challenges overcome, of the achievement of difficult tasks" (173). The lore of tithing—practical, spiritual, materialistic, otherworldly--fills a similar purpose.
Bibliography
Arrington, Leonard J. and Davis Bitton. The Mormon Experience: A History of the Latter-Day Saints. 2nd Edition. Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1992.
Brooks, Juanita. Uncle Will Tells His Story. Taggart & Company, Inc.: Salt Lake City, 1970.
"Church Providing Relief to Hurricane Katrina Victims." LDS Church News. 1 September 2005. < http://www.lds.org/news/article/0,5422,116-22086,00.html>
Cleveland, Annette. "An Eternal Marriage—One Day at a Time." Ensign. July 2002: 36-39.
The Doctrine and Covenants. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints: SLC, 1990.
Grondahl, Calvin Raymond. Cartoons. Sunstone Foundation, 1980.
Hales, Robert D. "Tithing: A Test of Faith with Eternal Blessings." Ensign. November 2002: 26-29.
The Holy Bible. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints: SLC, 1979.
Ives, Edward D. George Magoon and the Down East Game War. Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1988.
Larson, Andrew Karl. "I Was Called to Dixie." The Virgin River Basin: Unique Experience in Mormon Pioneering. Andrew Karl Larson: Deseret New Press, 1961.
Neustadt, Kathy. Clambake: A History & Celebration of an American Tradition. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1992.
"Ramping Up for Rita and Cleaning Up From Katrina." Church News. 22 September 2005
Snyder, Carole. "Re: Hey!" E-mail to author. 14 March 2006.
"Visiting Teacher Message: Prepare by Living Providently and Paying Tithes and Offerings," Ensign. December 2003: 52.
Westbrook, Sarah. "My Tithing Tire." Ensign. June 2005: 44.
"Windows of Heaven." Doctrine and Covenants and Church History. VHS. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1996.
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