by Emma Restall Orr
A list of charities
Is there a place for this ancient custom, still much used
in other religious traditions, at the heart of our modern Druidry?
Like so many old words in our language, ‘tithe’
brings to mind for many a spread of connotations. For myself, the initial
response is an inner flinch, provoking images of feudalism, the earliest taxes,
inequalities and injustice, money paid to support wealthy clergy and the established
church. Yet tithing has been a part of civilized societies since ancient times,
with money paid to temples and priesthoods in order to support the service
they offer, a service which may appear tangibly unproductive albeit spiritually
desired.
In Britain, with the Church of England funding itself through
its historic legacy of capital and property, the notion has faded in the minds
of the general public. Many religious traditions, such as Islam and some sects
of Christianity, still have an obligatory tithe for those who belong to the
faith community. In the US, it is normal for the congregation of a church
to pledge money each year, providing a fund that maintains the buildings and
pays the salary of the clergy.
The positive element of such action is clear to me. Expressing a clear investment
in the spiritual community, the importance of the temple, and the integrity
and value of the priest, it allows each member to express their commitment
and support. It may make some feel righteous, that God will repay the action
with blessings ... and here I start to feel the notion slipping away from
my own Paganism.
Yet on the simplest level, the value of the action is still
evident.
Money is powerful.
Like a digitalis or datura, money can bring exquisite gifts
or it can be poison. In our money-based culture, it is pounds and dollars
that allow us access to food, shelter and often health. Though we would like
to deny it, money facilitates attraction, love and the expression of our sexuality
and creativity, for it can provide us with what we need to stay clean, dressed
and healthy, a warm dry bed, privacy and stability. When we are in debt, another
holds that power over us, removing the stability of a home, transport, opportunities
for work, denying us our freedom and autonomy, leaving us on a throttle-chain
of stress.
Yet our culture seems to thrive on debt. Indeed, it seems
that many feel a release when their debts become unmanageable, because they
reach a point where they let go any sense of being in control, abdicating
the last of their responsibility. And though the government makes attempts
at helping those in trouble, the banks make money off our debt, and the wheels
of capitalism keep rolling, whispering in that sickening and sweet patronizing
tone, ‘spend, spend, spend’.
Sometimes we can get our feet badly stuck in poverty, whatever
we try. Struggling to get out, it can feel like quicksand, and the resignation
to that can breed apathy, clothed in resentment. Yet for very many in our
Western culture, it is not necessary for people to be struggling for money
in the way that they do. After all, most of the ‘stuff’ we spend
money on is unnecessary: alcohol, cigarettes, holidays, household makeovers,
new clothes, more toys for the kids, processed foods. Too often we spend money
in an attempt to find a sense of our wealth, when the 'stuff' we buy bring
no nourishment at all.
Does it sound trite to follow that sentence with a reminder
that there are people starving?
Druidry is a spiritual tradition based on reverence for the
powers of nature, for our heritage, our people and our land. It wakes us to
the beauty of nature, and to its merciless injustice. It guides us to place
our feet upon the ground beneath us, and to breathe the threads of the web
that connect us, soul to soul, story to story, within the ecosystem of our
village and our valley; yet in doing so, it wakes us too to the wider world
and our place within it. And so do we wake to our complacency and our complicity
in realities that are fraught with suffering.
It is for this reason that I would like to introduce the
notion of tithing into our spiritual community. Yet, in harmony with the tenets
of Druidry, I would not want to support any church or clergy. Our Druid tithe
is offered directly to those who need it more that we do. It’s that
simple.
Why should we tithe?
Because we live (in Britain) in one of the wealthiest countries
in the world, with opportunities and options all around us, with stores that
are nearly always filled with food, with jobs on offer if we are able to take
them. Because we have a welfare system that means, when we can’t work
or walk, we don’t die on the street. Because the vast majority of us
haven’t been shot at recently, nor do we need to tiptoe through mine
fields, walk miles to fetch water, or watch our children die of hunger. Because
so many human beings do.
Because if we don’t, then we are at risk of complicitly
supporting the multinational companies and corrupt governments who are keeping
billions of human beings and animals in unbearable suffering, poverty, slavery
and conflict. There is no reverence, respect or honour in such inaction. Our
Druidry would be no more than a hypocritical show.
So how do we do it?
The Power of Our Finances
If our finances are simple, and we are clear as to how much
we earn and how much our monthly outgoings are, we’ll have an idea of
any excess. Perhaps we are saving up for something we need, or something we
don’t need. If this part of the work is already done, the next step
is to decide how much of that, monthly, would be better given as a tithe.
Then work out just where we’ll send that money (an issue I’ll
come to at the end of this article).
Tithe, from the Old English, literally means a tenth. In
some circumstances, when there is abundance, it is manageable to give that
much away. If we bring home after taxes £2500 a month, and we need
only £2100 to live on, a tithe of £250 is within reason. However,
when we are spending every penny of our £85 a week, only just surviving,
£8.50 can be too much of a sacrifice. Just how much we give is not as
simple as a set per centage. It requires us to take more responsibility and
to work out what is right.
The reality is that most of us don’t know clearly how
much we need to live on and where our money disappears to. I would suggest
that it is a part of our spiritual obligation to sort out our personal finances.
Money has power : it is a fuel, an energy, that offers control. Earning it,
keeping it, spending it, are powerful acts.
It isn’t difficult to do make a note of the rent or
mortgage, council tax, water rates and insurance bills we pay each month or
week, then to estimate or note down the electricity and gas, phone bills for
the month or week, tv licence, car expenses and food. If you’ve never
done it before it may be a shock, but it will allow you to plan. At the beginning
of each month (salary earners) or week (wage/benefit earners), put that amount
aside, making a note of how much you have left. Add a little into a saving
fund for extras like the dentist or the plumber.
At the end of the month, having paid your bills, see what
is left. Did it get frittered away? How? On the pub, clothes, chocolate, videos,
CDs, cigarettes, takeaways ... Was it necessary?
Once again, does it sound trite to follow that sentence with
a reminder that there are people starving?
When we as a family have lived on less than £14 000
a year, our tithe was based on luxuries. Every alternate time that we could
afford something special, a jar of sun-dried tomatoes, a takeaway, a trip
to the cinema, instead of buying it for ourselves, we gave the money to someone
who couldn’t. Now and then, because this is how we lived, a wealthy
friend would do the same for us, paying a bill or sending us money to go for
a meal: a beautiful affirmation.
Now that our income makes life more manageable, at the end
of each month, I settle up the accounts from our basic bills and outgoings,
and see what is left. And each month a proportion of that goes to a charity.
My tithe then isn’t a set percentage (ten per cent would still leave
us unable to meet the bills), but the notion is an established part of our
household finances.
Twice a year the focus of that is increased. At Midwinter,
instead of buying more ‘stuff’, we give to charity, buying trees,
chickens, acres of rainforest, education, for those in need - be they people
in the community or through charitible organizations. After all, the festival
is one that, for me, is crucially about sharing the power of community support.
At the other side of the solar tide, it is at Lughnasadh that we give again,
this time in thanks to the gods for the harvest that is coming in, adding
to the wealth and abundance of our sacred lands
So to whom do we give our tithe?
Here, on the Ethics pages, we shall have a list of charities
that we feel are worth supporting. You may not agree with all their aims.
However, this is a beginning. You may even manage to work out twelve that
are in tune with the seasons!
Most importantly, all these organizations have impressed
us, their feet well upon the ground, their focus clearly upon respect. We
include the easiest way that you can donate money, on line or by sending a
cheque.
If you know of a charity or charitabla cause that you have
researched and believe in, let us know.
Let us be proud of our community and its work of giving,
caring and supporting, each and every one of us adding to the flow that is
the changing tide of alleviating poverty, suffering and conflict. Let us truly
practise our Craft with honour, responsible for our own footprints, our own
impact of desire, sharing the blessings of our sacred land's abundance.
A list of charities
Emma Restall Orr
June 2005
