"Pay Me What I’m Worth!"

II Thessalonians 3:6-13

November 14, 2010 + First Stewardship Sunday

Pilgrim Congregational United Church of Christ

400 Glenwood Drive

Chattanooga, Tennessee 37404

I’m glad the Times Free Press no longer prints sermon titles in the Saturday paper. People here in Chattanooga might think I was applying some public pressure to get an increase in salary. Of course, as Don Klinefelter pointed out, my topic could be taken in two ways!  Perhaps, in a burst of humility, I was inviting you to cut back on my salary so that it would more accurately reflect my true value to Pilgrim Church!

Actually, my topic is an attempt at a clever attention-getting device. It is meant to raise a much more serious question. What are clergy worth, anyway, and why do we have to pay them? After all, isn’t most of the work in the church done by lay people who are not paid for what they do? I’ll get back to these questions in a few moments, but first I want to make an observation.

Stewardship Sunday sermons are a waste of your time and my effort. By the time people hear them they have already made up their minds what will be on their commitment cards. Some will give more, some will give less, some will give “same as last year,” and some won’t make any commitment at all. Of course, in our church commitment cards have already been dedicated by the time I get around to offering my sermon. So why bother with a Stewardship Sunday sermon at all? It never does any good.

Actually, that’s not true. Once-upon-a-time, back in the 70’s, one of my Stewardship Sunday sermons made a big difference. At the time I was Senior Minister of the Community Church of East Williston on Long Island, New York. The Sunday after I preached my stewardship sermon, I was approached by one of the young fathers in the congregation asking to see me in my office. He told me his father-in-law had come to worship with the family on Stewardship Sunday and he had been very impressed by what I had said about what the church was doing for its members and the community and why it deserved support. My member said his father-in-law, though not a member, wanted to help support the church and he handed me a sealed envelope. After he left I opened the envelope and found it contained a check made out to the church for $10,000. Now $10,000 was a lot of money back in the 70’s. Still is, for that matter. You can bet I went back and re-read my Stewardship Sunday sermon line-by-line to see what I might have said that would have inspired such generosity!

What I found out later was that Jack, the father-in-law, deeply appreciated what the church was doing for his daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren. He was a man of some means and wanted to support their church. By the way, every year I was pastor the same $10,000 check arrived at stewardship time.

But that was an exceptional moment. Of course, every year your Stewardship Committee and I make the same pitch. Your stewardship pledge and mine is just that: a promise. If financial circumstances change it can be changed up or down by our own decision. It is not an I.O.U. or promissory note. Give more if you can; give less if you must. The choice is always ours and your church will respect it. Just one more word before I go back to my original sermon plan. Our financial pledges and faith promises are of critical help to church leaders as they make budget plans for 2011. Can you imagine how you would feel if you had no idea how much income you would get next year? So, on behalf of your church leaders, I thank you for helping in this critical way.

Now back to my topic. What am I worth to Pilgrim Church? When you look at our church budget you will discover that 40% of it is devoted to me for salary, housing allowance, insurance, benefits, and expenses. 40%! Am I really worth that? I have decided, in my own self-interest, that we will not take a vote on that question at this time! But how did we get to this point when in every church clergy and other paid staff receive the lion’s share of church revenue?

This certainly wasn’t true in the Early Christian Church at the time of the ministry of the Apostle Paul. As Paul points out in his letter to the Thessalonians, our scripture lesson for this morning, he prides himself on not taking anything from the church. In his words, “We were not idle when we were with you, and we did not eat anyone’s bread without paying for it; but with toil and labor we worked night and day, so that we might not burden any of you.” (II Thess. 3:7B-8) It sounds as though Paul didn’t even allow himself to be taken out for dinner after church unless he picked up the check!

In all seriousness, Paul and other clergy in that day received very little in compensation for their services. Paul supported himself. Traditionally, he was said to be a tentmaker and, thus, we get the expression “tent-making ministry” to describe someone who earns his or her own living rather than being paid by the church they are serving. Actually, the Greek word describing Paul’s occupation means “leather worker” which suggests he may have been a leather craftsman. Certainly, it is clear that wherever he went on his missionary journeys Paul went to the local leatherworkers’ guild, the union of that day, and worked for his own income.

If as the ad said of women, “You’ve come a long way, baby!” the same could be said of clergy. What happened? A negative, cynical critic might say that through the centuries, clergy came more and more to dominate the leadership of the Church. So it is not surprising that more and more they came to influence and control how donations to the Church were spent. To quote the J.G. Wentworth ad, clergy came to believe “It’s your money. Use it when you want it.” Church history then and now is replete with examples of clergy dipping their greedy hands into church finances. Dare I mention the egregious examples of contemporary television ministers and mega-church pastors?!

But there is a more positive reason why most clergy – decent, responsible, and – dare I say it? – mostly underpaid – have come to be supported financially by the churches they serve. In Paul’s time, churches were small numbers of folk meeting in someone’s home. A “house church” doesn’t need a paid clergyperson. Lay leaders can provide whatever ministry the church needs. But as time passed, churches became larger. When Christianity became the state religion of the Roman Empire at the time of Constantine, things have never been the same. Large congregations meeting in large church buildings need professional leaders to manage them. As congregations expected more and more from their clergy in preaching, teaching and pastoral care, that demanded not only more time from them but also greater education.

Today, in our denomination as in most mainline denominations, in order to be ordained one must have a college degree, a seminary degree, as well as other specialized education and training. That adds up to at least seven or eight years of higher education. In my case, I also have the additional two years it took to receive my doctoral degree.

So, to return to my original question, am I worth it? Are any educated, paid clergy worth it? It is probably self-serving of me to say it but I believe we are if, and only if, we fulfill our true calling which is to inspire and prepare you, the church members, to fulfill your calling. And what is that? Simply this: to be God’s people in the world doing the work of God in everyday life. To the degree you are God’s people in the world, serving as Christ’s disciples, then I and all other paid clergy are worth it no matter what our salaries may be. But if I am not doing my job motivating and training you, yes, and also caring for you when you fall beside the way, then I am not worth anything at all. So, you see, it all depends upon you what I’m worth. Now go out into the world and prove I’m really worth what you pay me. And, as Paul says, “Do not be weary in doing what is right.” We’re both depending upon it! Amen.