April 1, 2006
Theologies of money
Recently one of the delegations visiting Nicaragua expressed
the desire to experience several different types of worship. In
the process we heard and saw several different theologies of money.
Each one seemed to be tailored to the listening congregation.
On a Saturday evening we visited a service for young people in
the large “Hosanna” megachurch of Managua. The parking
lot was full of relatively expensive cars, as the young people
of the wealthy families of Managua came to worship. The pastor
talked about how having wealth and the nice things that money
can buy is a signal of God’s love for us. He told the congregation
that if they obeyed God, they would also be rewarded (as he had
been) with even more of the material gifts of God.
“When I worked for (a large auto dealer),” he said,
“I was afraid to answer God’s call to the ministry
because I like to have nice expensive things. But look, (pulling
out his cell phone) I have the newest and most expensive model
of cell phone because I obeyed God’s call.” He assured
the congregation that all they had to do was pray for it and God
would give them even more of the material gifts they already have.
On Sunday morning we visited one of the small Presbyterian congregations
in Managua. Here the pastor talked about the story of the woman
at the well and compared her to the thousands of poor people in
Nicaragua who have been pushed by their poverty into making bad
choices. He also called upon the congregation—which was
middle class, by Nicaragua standards—to stop judging such
people and to start helping those in poverty by trying to alleviate
their situation so that they could make better choices. Even a
small bit of wealth, he said, is not an outright gift, but carries
the responsibility to use it to help others.
On Sunday evening we attended Mass in one of the less affluent
areas of the city, but still above the worst of urban poverty.
This parish was one of the most active areas during the revolution
against the Somoza dictatorship. The priest spoke of God’s
special love for the poor, saying that we Christians have to organize
ourselves to improve our lives. The focus was on the welfare of
the entire community, not of one person or family.
Finally, on Tuesday evening, we worshiped in a small congregation
of very poor campesinos. In this area of desperate poverty,
no one has any more to share than anyone else. There is not much
hope that things are going to be better in the foreseeable future.
Instead, the pastor held out the eternal hope of heaven, not expecting
any kind of physical change here on Earth. It sounded to me like
a pie-in-the-sky-bye-and-bye message, for those who will never
taste pie here on Earth. But when he spoke of the programs of
the congregation, it was obvious that this was a group of very
poor people who were organizing themselves, with no outside help
except the organization and training that CEPAD is giving, to
do what they can to help their community develop.
What struck me in all of this is the way that the church has
shaped (or twisted) its message to fit the social class of its
listeners, being careful not to offend anyone. But is this what
the gospel is about? Are any of us so perfect that the words of
Jesus never make us uncomfortable? We can throw around terms like
the “Theology of Prosperity” or “Liberation
Theology,” but sometimes these can lull us into a false
sense of comfort.
I admit to being quite comfortable in the two churches on Sunday
and quite uncomfortable on Saturday and Tuesday evenings. I like
to think that is because they (and I) have understood the gospel
message about material things and are trying to live it in our
lives. But the truth is that I can never be fully comfortable
here in Nicaragua. How can I, or any Christian, be comfortable
when we see our sisters and brothers who suffer from hunger, preventable
illness, lack of education, and poverty? How can we not remember
Jesus’ words to the disciples as they looked at 5,000 people
out on the mountain without food. “You give them something
to eat!”
CEPAD is working in 32 rural areas offering the kind of training
that enables people to slowly develop their communities. CEPAD
is not offering handouts, but helping people find their own solutions
to their own problems, not because having material things is a
sign of God’s blessing, but because we believe that God’s
justice calls for us to work on behalf of the poorest of the poor.
As I complete two years here in Nicaragua with CEPAD, I see many
other people coming to help in some way. I become more convinced
each month that the approach of partnership, working together
with the poor instead of doing things for them, is the way that
the Church of Jesus Christ needs to be taking here and among the
rest of our poor brothers and sisters.
Doug
The 2006 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
57 |
