Marie never asked the question, my children were happier, and not long after that I received a call to another church. This church had tighter controls on the offering plate, offered a slightly higher salary, and had a discretionary fund that was totally under the pastor’s control. It was funded by a special offering each quarter and was intended to enable the pastor to respond to the needy who came to the church for help and to help members discreetly who found themselves in crisis. Occasionally, I found that it was my family who had the need.
I must admit there was also a little thrill to the clandestine nature of my efforts. It’s very easy to lose awareness that you are working for God and feel ground down by the continual demands of the ordinary events in ministry. Each month you produce at least four bulletins and sermons, plan youth meetings, prepare a newsletter, visit the sick, listen to the woes of the elderly, and moderate several meetings that seen to accomplish very little. Occasionally there is a crisis or some conflict that get the juices going but frequently it is filled with the routine.
I’d read news articles about politicians, financial wizards, lawyers, and CEOs of large corporations getting caught accepting bribes or engaging in creative and profitable money making schemes.These weren’t people who were living in poverty. I often wondered what made them risk everything to get a little bit more when they already had enough.
I think I understand now. It wasn’t about the money. It was the thrill of living on the edge. It’s sort of like an addiction. It begins with some small rationalization that justifies your actions. Then there is a thrill of getting away with it. It makes you feel cleverer, wiser than others. Then, like dope, the old thrill is not enough. You have to raise the stakes, take more risks, and prove to yourself how brilliant you really are.
