The collection was supreme even in Malachi's day

For all that I've grown to enjoy Old Testament studies (...late have I loved thee...), a few of the books are so puzzling and dreadful that even I don't have the inclination to their study. (It's bad enough that, just a few years back, I had to complete a paper on Amos, which left me utterly spent.) What follows is a far cry from exegesis - I'm merely giggling at how our own experiences can colour perspective. I'm very glad that I've risen from the grave of management and resumed my true identity as musician and scholarly sort, but, now and then, my many years in business management trigger such associations.

Just this morning, I was sleepily listening to a presentation related to the images of the first-born (whether sacrificed, redeemed, sent into exile, or humiliated) in the Hebrew scriptures. It struck me, as it often has, that Genesis would make nearly any family one knows seem far from dysfunctional by comparison. Isaac, Rebekah, Esau and Jacob, Laban (he and Jacob deserved each other), Abraham and his 'sister' in Egypt, are a sorry lot. It is a constant portrayal of hatred, swindling, attempted or intended (and, in a few cases, accomplished) fratricide, deceit and the like. I haven't yet read the commentary on which this presentation was based, but must get to that soon, since the pattern here was rather dismal.

Allowing for that I was half-asleep, I don't recall precisely why the book of Malachi was referenced. Much as Esau was a potential murderer, Jacob was a deceitful trickster for whom I have no fondness either. Malachi begins with the Lord's saying "Jacob I love, but Esau I hate..." (Yes, pedantic sorts - I know Jacob and Israel are one and the same - humour me, since I'm just ravelling a silly thread.) Towards the end of this brief book, one learns that God was irate at being defrauded - but blessings still could result if one heeded the summons to "Bring in the tithes!"

I loathe the image of God in Malachi, and anywhere else where God needs to be placated. Yet I had a "Eureka" sound in my mind which perhaps only church professionals of long-standing can fully appreciate. Jacob was a deceitful trickster, where Esau was rather common... No wonder God loves deceitful tricksters, since they bring in far more tithes.

Moving into my own life-time... Indeed, I do believe one must contribute, as one is able, to one's church. I see this as having spiritual value, returning what we can in thanksgiving. What I cannot stand is when the faith is treated as if it were a consumer product, and I've seen such approaches on various occasions.

I well remember one fund-raiser whom I knew (not a deceitful trickster, I must add - there wasn't a large supply of those at the time, so members of that set were reserved for insurance) whom I privately called "The Pardoner." His reasoning (by no means unique to him!) seemed to be as follows. People do not value their faith and church because it is available to all and not costly. They only will find it valuable if it costs them considerable money. (Whether those without riches, such as Jesus of Nazareth or Francis of Assisi, were to be consigned to a dungeon or handed a loaded pistol in order that they might take the only way out was left to the imagination. It would assuredly be bad form to have anyone present who'd tell any rich young man*, however smug, to give everything to the poor.) The Pardoner never did explain how to address the 'problem' of churches being available to all. He was Catholic, so I doubt that any theories of election and God's invariably choosing only the rich were in his theology, but it certainly was implicit that indiscriminate admissions of the poor would decrease the value of the premium product - I suppose as happens when travel miles used to give one access to seating in business class every 100 years.) Ergo, if one can convince people that they must pay a fortune for the privilege of attending church, this premium product will become appealing.

Feel faint or drop dead if you must - but expect a high price tag if you want me to share any of my lentils with you... Though the passages from Malachi made me shudder, I couldn't help but think, "Things haven't changed much, have they?"

*Note: Gluttons for punishment may see All these I have observed from my youth for further commentary on the rich young man - or look below for more on the first-born.