People are responding to the gospel by the tens of thousands in many developing countries. On the other hand, things are slow-going and costly in most of the world's affluent nations. Granted, the Seventh-day Adventist Church has limited resources, so where should our outreach dollars be spent? Let me begin to deal with this question by way of a few confessions.
Confession 1
I grew up in an American home that knew no luxury. We didn't have a bed for every child, so someone had to sleep on the couch each night. I was five years old before we had running water at the kitchen sink and ten years old before we had the comfort of an indoor bathroom.
We didn't replace furniture to improve our home's aesthetics. Rather, we did so because the old couldn't be cobbled together one more time. We rarely bought new if something used would suffice. We wore hand-me-downs. And we subscribed to the Protestant work ethic simply because a more demanding standard hadn't yet come along. In short, we were ascetic both by circumstance and conviction.
At times we debated whether a true Christian could drive a Cadillac. But the debates were short-lived because we already knew the answer. It was No. Resoundingly. Categorically.
When it came to how church funds should be distributed, there was little question: Mission-field necessity must always take precedence over home-field luxury.
Confession 2
In the early 1970s, as a student missionary representing Union College (in Lincoln, Nebraska), I taught school in a developing country.
While there, I ate in the dining hall with the students. The food was the epitome of plain. Yet every day villagers from nearby waited close to the school for hours for the garbage to be brought out. Ostensibly they were scavenging for their pigs. But it wasn't uncommon to see them surreptitiously slip ping morsels into their own mouths.
During this time I regularly received the student newspaper from Union College. Back there, a debate was raging over whether to spend $200,000 to build a new clock tower so a long-standing landmark wouldn't be lost when the old administration building was razed. Needless to say, I sided with those opposing construction. I just couldn't get the garbage-eaters out of my mind.
Confession 3
In the early 1980s I was news editor at the Adventist Review. Daily I sifted through reams of stories written by people with limited education and even more limited command of English. But the stories had one common element: the financial struggles the Church faces in developing countries as it tries to maintain and expand its outreach.
Then one day a well-typed, well-written article landed on my desk. The report told about a large church in North America that had just invested tens of thousands of dollars so a handful of people in a retirement home could watch the church service live rather than having to watch a recorded version an hour later.
Somehow it all got to me.
I wrote to the author of the article (an insensitive and ill-advised act, I now realize), asking if he had any idea of the impact that printing such a report would have on those who, without even the basic necessities, are trying to reach the world for Christ.
The article's writer became so distraught by what I said that he resigned his position as church communication secretary. I'm sure I'm persona non grata in that congregation to this day.
Confession 4
In the mid 1980s I was editor of the Record, the weekly paper of the South Pacific Division of Seventh-day Adventists. One of my early editorials was titled "Saving the High Heels." I told of two churches I had attended where we had spent a combined total of about US$100,000 to pave the parking lots "to protect the church carpet and to save the women's high-heeled shoes."
I wrote: "I couldn't help gulping slightly to think of spending $100,000 to protect carpets and high heels when there are such crying needs in many mission fields. Can we truly justify many of the luxuries that we allow ourselves as individuals and even as congregations? .... I get the impression that we need to do some re-evaluating."
Reflection. Because of my less-than-affluent childhood and because of my exposure to the struggles of the Church in developing countries, my default setting is toward the "have net's." I would argue that far too much money gets wasted on home-field non-necessities, both personal and organizational.
But, much as I hate to admit it, there is another side to the story. And it deserves to be heard.
Confession 5
Since early 1994 I've pastored an affluent North American congregation. Our members are accountants, builders, business proprietors, college professors, corporate executives, dentists, doctors, entrepreneurs, financial advisers, land developers, middle managers, nurses, real-estate agents, teachers, and a host of other professionals. These are busy, high-achieving people who seek and expect excellence at every turn.
They expect the same from their congregation.
Because they want to invite their professional colleagues and friends to our services, they want everything to be top-of-the-line. They want the building to be clean, well-appointed, and aesthetically pleasing. They want the lawn well-tended. They want the service well-organized. They want quality music. They want well-presented, carefully reasoned, thought-provoking sermons.
They want a parking lot where the friends they invite won't hesitate to park a BMW, Lexus, or Mercedes. They want to know that they won't be embarrassed by anything. And they provide hundreds of thousands of dol lars to the local church each year to ensure that their wants are realized.
In short, the carpet and high heels are well and truly protected here!
Confession 6
My congregation is in Orlando, Florida, the tourist mecca of the world. Disney's Magic Kingdom, MGM Studios, EPCOT, Universal Studios, SeaWorld, and many lesser-known but equally alluring attractions are in our backyard. Life is fast-paced, and the distractions are legion. So it's no small challenge to keep the attention of children and youth—and even adults; and doing it costs money; lots of it.
Aside from spending nearly $100,000 per year to subsidize Adventist education for our congregation's children, we spend tens of thousands more for Sabbath School, Vacation Bible School, and other social and spiritual programs for our children and youth.
Our Pathfinder Club alone costs nearly $25,000 per year. But the investment pays off. Contrary to the trend among predominantly Anglo clubs in North America, our Path finder numbers keep growing.
But think what this money could achieve in a developing country.
Reflection. To put it simply, I'm a highly conflicted person!
On the one hand, I'm an enthusiastic supporter of global outreach and foreign mission. I want to see as much money as possible used to share the gospel with those who are hungering to hear it. How can we short-change people who respond with such enthusiasm and in such breathtaking numbers? How can we not channel every available penny to those areas where the harvest is there for the taking?
On the other hand, I have an intense burden for retaining members and gaining new ones in environments where there's little sense of need; where we struggle to convince them that they have a problem, let alone that Christ is the answer. I have a burden for people who are "rich and increased with goods and [feel they] have need of nothing."
I realize that winning and retaining high-level professionals—even in pal try numbers—costs much more than what's required for far more dramatic results in many developing areas of the world. But isn't everyone precious in God's sight? How can we put a price tag on the gospel?
Observation 1
I admire the willingness of North American Adventists, especially those of a bygone era to provide the personnel, effort, and money required to reach out to everyone, whatever the cost or inconvenience.
When the Seventh-day Adventist Church sent out its first missionary more than 125 years ago, the real challenges lay in the mission field; the home field was easy. Back then, cost per convert was high in the mission field and low in the home field.
The question now is: Are we willing to bear the cost and inconvenience of working for the affluent in the world's developed areas? Or have they priced themselves out of the gospel market? Are we going to write them off as too tough an assignment?
Observation 2
Despite our church's impressive numeric growth in many developing areas, and despite a dramatic increase in indigenous leadership, the Church in those regions still needs assistance from members in more affluent countries. One group has been blessed with fertile soil for planting the gospel seed, the other group has been blessed with financial resources.
For this reason, it's imperative to keep the Church strong everywhere. We must ensure its vitality and viability. Let me employ an analogy:
When flying, it's not selfish to fol low the command of the flight attendant to fit our own oxygen mask first and then attend to those who are traveling with us. But it's the epitome of self-centeredness to become so absorbed in fitting our own mask that we forget that we even have fellow travelers who need our help.
Too many of us have an all-or-nothing mentality. We're either totally focused on the good soil of the mission field, or we're totally focused on the rocky ground of our own field. The truth is that both need our attention, our energy, our money.
It's easy to understand how those who have little might look at home-field expenditures as extravagant. But we need to help them recognize that all things being equal, paradoxically, it may be the only way to keep adequate funding headed their direction.
Observation 3
Our church's "have net's" have a great responsibility toward the "have's": to keep us abreast of the wonderful things being accomplished with the resources being sent their way. The cash flow will be in proportion to the flow of information about what's being achieved. This fact is too little appreciated.
Proverbs 11:25 says: "He who refreshes others will himself be refreshed." It's a law of life that we get by giving, that we hold on by letting go. The greatest blessing for any congregation is the joy of service, the sense that they're actually making a difference in the world.
Recently our congregation raised money to build a church in Honduras. A few dozen members traveled there and actually built it. The fact that more than $50,000 was channeled into an overseas project did not diminish local giving. But it did fire up a group of people as they haven't been fired up before.
As long as people know what's happening with the money they send elsewhere, as long as they have the joy of seeing it put to productive use, they'll be excited about sharing their resources.
Concluding reflection. We're never going to resolve the tension over how the Church's money should be distributed. The tension is inevitable. And, believe it or not, the tension is vital for optimum health.
As long as we understand and appreciate the needs that exist at home and abroad, we will be health fully conflicted about how to allocate our resources. When we concentrate on one area of need to the exclusion of the other, some of the tension will be reduced. But when that happens, watch out. At that point the Church will be in trouble.
