My family’s pew was on the Gospel side (left facing the altar) at the back.  We sat with the Hodge family.  It wasn’t always the case, but more times than not, that was our arrangement.  When I served my first church (where my father was raised and where my grandmother still attends), my grandmother would sit on the back pew on the Epistle side (right facing the altar).  “Granny, why do you sit in the back?” I asked early on.
“Oh, I don’t know.  It’s habit.  When your daddy was young, we always sat on the back in case we needed to take him out,” she said.
“But Granny…he’s 62 years old!”

To this day I still can take a fairly accurate “mental roll” by looking at the pews.  No surprise, we have a relationship with our pews.

Once upon a time, however, this relationship went further than “where we always sit.”  It wasn’t too long ago that parishes based their operating income from those very same pews.  There was a time when churches didn’t bother with stewardship campaigns, they just sold pews.  I mean this literally, they sold the pews.  Gave the owner a deed and everything.  Upon the owner’s death, they could be bequeathed to heirs.

In point of fact, it actually worked.  It was a sure-fire appeal to vanity and fear.  It was an appeal to vanity in that if you wanted the best seats in the house, you could have them.  But it would cost.  There was a class system in the church.  There were prized pews and not-so-prized pews.  Even if the owner never came to church, it was theirs.  Their property.  It was so bad it got to the point that in 1636 the Bishop of Norwich (England) had to specify how high pews could be, because they were becoming little apartments.  There were rings and curtains and cushions and you couldn’t see in them.

It appealed to fear because it guaranteed who would be in church, and more importantly, who wouldn’t.

For sure there were some pews reserved for non-owners (or renters as the case later came to be).  If one was poor or visiting, there would be some space for you.

The sad thing is, pew selling and renting started because the parishes felt they could not raise the necessary funds to sustain ministry by appealing to the faith and obligation of the church members.  Because it worked for a while, maybe it was deemed justifiable to enable a class system and appeal to vanity and fear as long as the poor were fed and the children were catechized.

But then it was no longer worth it.  An article written in the New York Times dated February 22, 1922 hit the press with the headline “St Bartholomew’s Wants Pews Back”.  I love the subheading: “Dr. Parks says some owners have not been in them for 20 years – Others rent at profit.”  St Bartholomew’s Episcopal Church, a very well known and wealthy parish, was tired of selling and renting pews.

48 of the pews had been vacant by their ‘owners’ for over 20 years.  What was started as a financial solution had devolved into a theological nightmare.  I love this quote by the rector: “While we appreciate the sentiment that leads them to desire a property right in a part of the church, it is hoped that in time they will come to feel that it is far better to be a joint proprietor of the whole church.”  You can read the Times article here.

I think we’re back full circle.  In the Church (big “C”), there is anxiety that by only appealing to the faith and obligation of the faithful, we cannot sustain our ministries.  So we try to come up with other ways that may be bearers of poor theology justified by feeding the poor and catechizing our children.  The Church (big “C”) abolished pew rentals in favor of the every member canvass or pledge campaign.  For a while, that worked.

I am very interested in what motivates faithful stewardship.  Because I don’t think it’s about pews or even pledges.  As St Bartholomew’s sold pews.  And while it generated income, that income became a substitute for discipleship.  So St Bart’s wanted their pews back.  They wanted to eliminate the substitute.  In other words, they wanted their people back.

I wrote yesterday that I would like to bury “pledging unit” because we don’t look at people as pledging units.  That makes them commodities, not Christians.  We become a spreadsheet and not siblings.

But I must confess, I’m not sure how to effectively invite our Church to embrace the freedom and blessing of being a ‘joint proprietor’ of the Church’s mission.  Except to ask questions: What motivates you to share in the ministries?  What scares you about stewardship?
Except to invite: Come with us on our journey of faith.  Come as we share the burdens and joys of discipleship.
Except to say: We want our people back.