Saturday, May 4, 2013

One Heck of a Tithe



Dear Boo and Bubble,

In the late 1960’s, a movement surfaced within the congregation of First Baptist in Greenville to relocate the church out from the center of town on McBee Avenue.  The majority voted, after some inevitable contention, to pursue options on property and begin a capital campaign.  By 1970, the initiative gained enough success to break ground at what is now the location on Cleveland Avenue.  My old church was sold to the minority members and became Downtown Baptist Church.

The doors to the new facility opened in 1974.  (Captain and I were the first couple married in the temporary sanctuary May of that year.)  In a symbolic sense, First Baptist mirrored the changing times that confronted the broader community…..leaving years of tradition behind to position the church for the challenges found on our future’s doorstep.  The implementation of the Civil and Voting Rights Acts consumed Greenville’s leadership during this time.  Many members of First Baptist took an active role, including your great granddaddy Schaefer.  Ministers from both white and black churches carried the significant burden of executing a peaceful integration.

Out of this effort came the idea that twice a year, First Baptist and Springfield Baptist would hold joint services.  They were the largest congregations of both races.  It was determined that worshiping together would send a vibrant, undeniable signal to Greenville and beyond that we could make the necessary cultural transitions with the steady hand of God at the helm. 

At the time, David Matthews was the head minister at First Baptist.  He proposed that the host church would provide the meeting space while the visitors would conduct the service including all music, prayers, preaching and, most importantly, the passing of the plate.  Rather than split the offering, the guests would take it entirely.  This would be a dynamic way to show support for each other.

The first joint service happened in the new temporary sanctuary on Cleveland Street.  Dr. Matthews introduced his counterpart from Springfield Baptist, turned things over to him, and took a seat on the dais.  Everything started well enough as the Springfield choir raised the proverbial roof with gospel renditions of old hymns and Negro spirituals.  The minister from Springfield offered fervent prayers of celebration for the occasion and the cooperation exhibited by the two congregations.  When the time came for the offering, he took a moment to tender an explanation.

“At our church,” he started, “we believe that giving should start from the top.  If the leadership wants the members of the congregation to humble themselves before the Lord and make a contribution to His work, then we must set the example.  And so, when our deacons come forward to receive the collection plates, they will solicit those of us on the dais first.”  

The concept intrigued those from First Baptist, but none more so than Dr. Matthews who sat there on the dais in front of everybody.  As the deacons approached, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

As the service continued, the Springfield minister preached a stellar, uplifting sermon that elicited “Amens” not only from his own flock but also from the First Baptist members as well.  At the conclusion, everybody deemed the venture a resounding achievement.

On the following Wednesday evening at the First Baptist deacons’ meeting, conversation naturally swirled around an assessment of the service.  After several glowing remarks underscored everybody’s basic satisfaction, granddaddy Schaefer raised his hand to be recognized.

“Yes, Schaefer,” Dr. Matthews responded.

“David, I thought it was very interesting about the offering and I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed to really be in some distress when the plate came to you.”

Dr. Matthews hesitated a minute.  “To be honest, I was totally chagrined.  The only thing I had in my wallet was a hundred-dollar bill!”

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