One less pint at the pub

If you could choose any 20th century invention to represent the history of modern times would it be a credit card? Well, that is exactly what Neil MacGregor, the director of the British Museum, did. In the 99th episode of his excellent BBC Radio 4 series, A History of the World in 100 Objects, MacGregor discusses the reach and power of these little plastic rectangles:
  
"Since they emerged in the late 1950s, credit cards have become in every sense part of the currency of life. Bank credit is now, for the first time in history, no longer the prerogative of the elite. And maybe as a result, the long dormant religious and ethical debate about the use and abuse of money has been reborn in the face of this ultimate symbol of triumphant consumer culture."

Besides its pervasive use in our daily transactions there is an assumption at work that we take for granted. A credit card is a promise in plastic. It is a guarantee that a financial obligation will be met. During Argentina’s financial crisis in the 1990s, a system of paper IOUs became popular. However, it did raise the question - can a strangers IOU be trusted? In some parts of the country, getting your IOU endorsed by your parish priest solved the problem. It wasn’t quite a holographic imprint from Mastercard or VISA, but it did the trick.  

The credit card is a neat reminder to us that successful transactions are built on trust. It goes without saying that this is also the overriding principle of our giving to God’s kingdom. But sadly we are reticent to place our trust in this particular transaction. When we prepare our family budgets where does our faith-giving feature? Is it an afterthought or non-negotiable priority? What would a small but regular commitment to the Church’s planned giving scheme actually cost us in real terms? Is it one less pint at the pub?

Here then is the ugly truth about human nature. It is not the size of a regular faith gift that actually unsettles us. “Quality Rather Than Quantity” could be a catchy title for a book on the gospel and giving. No, what is disconcerting and even terrifying is that when we give to the Kingdom it feels like something is being taken from us for no real reason. “I could buy a cold pint with this £5” may well actually cross our minds as we complete the planned giving form.

The truth of the matter is that there is no way to sugarcoat this discomfort. Self-sacrifice is an ongoing lesson of a life-giving faith. To avoid it, is to opt for spiritual stagnation. Jesus puts the matter in simple terms - those with the faith of a mustard seed will have the power to move mountains (Matthew 17:20).

When we place our trust in the kingdom through a financial gift, even if it is as small as mustard seed, that act of faith will be blessed and expanded by God in ways completely unimaginable to us. Think about this carefully. It may be the only part of our lives in which a transaction is much more profound than a simple exchange of cash for goods.

The next time you use your bit of plastic to buy something basic, reflect on just how reassuring and easy it feels. Then ask why you may not feel the same way about giving to God’s kingdom.