In 2014 my wife Helen and I did a trip to England and one of the places we visited was Glastonbury. No we were not there for the famous rock festival. We wanted to check out the church of St John the Baptist dating from the 15th century and where Helen’s great-great grandparents were married in 1854. Close by were the ruins of the famous Glastonbury monastery. As we drove out of town we passed the spectacular green conical hill of Glastonbury Tor, adorned by a medieval tower. The tor is a geographical feature, 158 metres in height, that that shows evidence of Neolithic human activity and legend associates it with King Arthur.

As interesting as all these were to a person of antiquarian tendencies, it was the sign that said ‘Tithe Barn’ on the road driving east that grabbed my attention. So turning off past the aptly named Abbot Way, we found the medieval structure.

At that time I was in the process of writing my book ‘Giving Generously’ and I knew I would have to tackle the topic of tithing at some stage. I was not particularly looking forward to writing a tithing chapter for a number of reasons. First I knew the topic was controversial, with passionate defenders and detractors. Secondly I had preached on the topic over a number of years and thought I had a reasonable understanding of the issue. However I was somewhat nervous that in undergoing the more in-depth analysis that a book would demand might reveal gaping flaws in my original understanding, invalidating my previous sermons: an embarrassment at the very least. So anything about tithing, particularly if it was unusual or obscure, grabbed my attention.

I discovered that this barn at the village of Pilton is one of four surviving tithe barns whose tithes of agricultural produce serviced Glastonbury Abbey. It had suffered fire damage in the 1960s and was recently restored with the aid of a heritage grant. The abbots of Glastonbury ceased receiving the tithe in 1539 when the monastery was dissolved  and the last abbot, the 78 year old Richard Whiting, was gruesomely hung, drawn and quartered on Glastonbury Tor.

Now in my book I do not advocate the imposition by the secular authorities of a mandatory tithe on all the citizens. However my research did mellow me a little as I gained a new perspective.

As the Christian faith spread across Europe in the first millennium, kings such as Athelstan in England, who took their faith seriously looked for models on which to base their kingship. They found it scriptures such as 1 and 2 Kings in the Old Testament. They also were keen to banish pagan religion from their realm and encourage and support a strong church with monasteries that would be centres of learning, alms giving, prayer and evangelism. They made laws mandating the tithe to support these institutions. Now history teaches that many monasteries became lax, corrupt, and centres of privilege making them easy targets for Henry VIII’s rapacious dissolution. Glastonbury at least under the pious Richard Whiting was not one of them.

So pondering tithe barns I can see some interesting sermon illustrations emerging, but I can’t see the tithe barn or any twenty first century incarnation making a comeback and wouldn’t want to see a return to a state mandated tithe. The downsides are too great. However I do want to acknowledge the impulse that lay behind them; the desire of a ruler who loved God, supported the church and wanted to assist it with its kingdom work by providing the financial resources to equip it. Would that our secular leaders today be moved by the same desire.

On a personal note, I sent the picture to my family.  One of my sons noticed, in the right of the image, a man rolling a beer keg into the barn. Suddenly the idea gained a little more traction but not for reasons of theology!!!!

It takes courage to raise money.

One of the major reasons that ministers don’t attempt to raise money for kingdom ministry is, to be frank, we are afraid to do it. Let me explain.

A couple of years ago while on holiday in the UK, I paid an unexpected visit to Carlyle Cathedral, unexpected because my wife and I had to detour through Carlyle to find an urgently needed dentist. In the crypt was an impressive display detailing the history of the Christian faith in the region over a period of around 1500 years.

I read there the story of a World War 1 Anglican chaplain, the Rev Theodore Bayley Hardy who amazingly won the Distinguished Service Order, the Military Cross, and the Victoria Cross for extreme gallantry on numerous different occasions, caring for and rescuing men under heavy fire. He was finally in action yet again and wounded and later died less than a month before the armistice in 1918. I was incredibly moved by his raw courage and emerged from the exhibit and said to my wife, ‘Now that’s my sort of Anglican clergyman’.

Rev Theodore Hardy DSO, MC, VC

I am just so used to seeing television Anglican vicars, the sort invariably caricatured on Midsomer Murders, as weak and emasculated, unbelieving or fanatical, puritanical or lecherous. I just wished someone, somewhere would create a vicar who has some vague resemblance to Theodore Hardy. Maybe Mel Gibson could give it a go.

I stand in awe of people like Hardy. I think I would go to jelly in the type of situation in which he regularly found himself. Yet there is another sort of courage. In his book Path to Leadership Field Marshall Montgomery spoke of both physical and moral courage.

‘It is not given to everyone to have great physical courage … but we can all have moral courage, which to me means standing firm to what you believe to be right and giving a firm lead to others in that direction.’ p114.

There are some Christian leaders and believers who do need to show physical courage as they live out their faith in perilous places or under intimidating persecution. Average parish ministers are more likely to be called to exhibit moral courage in their preaching, leading or pastoral duties. One such area is the issue of raising money for ministry.

This is challenging because there is the risk of alienating people, losing friendships and looking like the worst kind of television preacher. There is the fear of people saying you are only ever asking for money. There is the possibility of looking totally uncomfortable and thus ineffective. There is the worry of being accused of feathering your own nest.

When I was first called to speak on giving. I was very apprehensive as I didn’t really know what to do and I was very uncertain on what to say or how the congregation would react. Sadly I believe that some clergy put it in the too hard basket.

The reason I wrote the book Giving Generously was to give pastors practical steps to raise money. But even when you know the practical steps it still takes moral courage to stand up in front of a congregation and ask clearly and graciously. I understand because I can certainly remember the knotted feeling that comes in the stomach. And yet after raising resources in a local church context for many years I can honestly say that if you ask graciously and with integrity, the outcome will not be congregational wrath but real joy that lives are being blessed as kingdom ministry is being funded.

So whenever I felt like wimping out I used to think, ‘Rod you are not being asked to be crucified like our Lord or whipped, shipwrecked, stoned or executed like St Paul or to go over the top at the Battle of the Somme. You are simply being asked to stand before God’s people and ask them to give to the greatest cause in the world. You can do this!’

In my book ‘Giving Generously’ I discuss the role of vision and use the quote ‘Money Follows Vision’. This is not the only factor in raising resources but it is a vital one. I believe the vision must be inspirational. It must engage the hearts and minds of the congregation. This encourages them to sign up for ministry and give to support the vision.

I am not a detail person so I have never believed the vision needs to be overly detailed. I remember being at a meeting once where the minister shared his plans for the church over the next five years. It involved a large spreadsheet that included detailed numbers of how many people would be in each ministry. While that sort of detail may be helpful to some, I have always been inspired by vision painted on a large canvas with broad brush strokes.

 At Figtree Anglican Church (FAC) we had a visionary slogan that appeared on our documents:

 ‘Impacting the region, modelling to the nation and sending to the world.’

We then explained to the congregation that in ‘Impacting the Region’, we wanted FAC to be known positively all over the Wollongong Region, which is largely a self-contained geographic space. It also meant that we wanted to be a blessing not only to our own church members but to the wider community.

‘Modelling to the Nation’ may sound a little pretentious, but what it meant and what we explained was that we wanted to be an adventurous church trying out new ministries and sharing  new ideas with others. For many years the Figtree elders set aside money for ministry staff, including me, to visit other dynamic churches interstate and overseas. We then tried to take the inspiration we had gained, Australianise it, and put it into practice. From time to time other churches would ring up and ask for assistance and we were glad to help them. The material on raising resources found its genesis on my first study tour to the US in 1995.

‘Sending to the World’ was a way of expressing the idea that FAC had a mission and evangelistic heart. For many many years there has been an annual mission trip conducted by Figtree members trained in Evangelism Explosion. That was only one expression of missionary activity and we wanted to say to our congregation, ‘this is who we are’. It also meant that while our local ministry might have suffered a setback if a talented person left to do mission elsewhere or go into theological college, we would actively rejoice in their calling, as sending people out to God’s work elsewhere was a core value for us.