There was a huge focus on tithing in the cainistic church. The implication—almost a perilous warning—was that somehow the worshiper would miss out on God’s blessing without tithing. The church criticized other churches that used guilt tactics to control their people, but this church was no different when it came to tithing, just more covert in the way that it subtlety used guilt.
All my efforts in helping to grow the church were ignored or minimized at best. I gave of my time, ushering two and sometimes three services each Sunday, plus other events. I loved greeting people and making them feel welcome. Repeatedly, attendees told me how they looked forward to seeing my smile each week and how good it made them feel. Many of them came to me and discussed problems. They thought I was a prayer partner, and I would have to let them know I was not.
My usher station was in the middle aisle up front. But then a couple with money wanted those upfront stations, suddenly all usher positions were scheduled by the minister’s secretary. One of the volunteers jingled change in his pocket and said, “Anything can be bought.” That’s when I realized that he had bought the minster so he and his wife could have the usher positions upfront. I left the church for almost a year over that issue, and not one person at the church ever reached out to find out why I was not attending. And I had joined the church. I was a member.
What was clear much later was that my life in that church was no different than the life I had left behind. Again, my only role was to adore, appreciate and applaud cainistic individuals. I was to smile and never contradict him or stand up to him. Once again I was to become invisible, to make no waves so Cain could be happy. Anyone he enticed into the fold embellished his image, leadership and the appearance of a thriving ministry. Like all the others, I was a cardboard cut-out, an object to give him what he wanted—attention and the appearance of success. When I stopped providing cainistic supply, I had no further use. That is the way of all Cains.
This cainistic minister held a condescending attitude toward the laity, giving much more attention and admiration to celebrities who spoke at the church or to leaders outside of the church. This is because celebrities and leaders boosted both his ego and his image. Successful people possessed coattails on which he could ride to success. They made him look special, at least in his eyes.
Even though there was constant pressure on the attendees to tithe, the church, itself, never had any money. I raised a fuss once when the choir director made it mandatory that we buy a 3-ring notebook to hold our music (which we had to return as they usually rented it) because the church couldn’t afford to buy the notebooks. I was a volunteer, showing up faithfully every week for two hours of practice and sometimes more than that to sing in the choir. And the church–a tithing ministry– could not provide a notebook for its choir members? Excuse me?
Steven Lamberts in his book “Charasmatic Capitvation”, explains these kinds of financial practices in a cainistic church. He writes:
“Sadly, most never see past the spiritual smoke and mirrors to realize that the so-called “church” to which they have sworn allegiance and promised their wholehearted and unflagging support, is nothing more than the personal “business” of its leaders, and not only are they free labor, but they actually pay out of their own resources for the privilege of being a participant, i.e., member.”
Everything had to be top drawer and purchased. The Christmas party was not your routine church party with a potluck on the church grounds. Oh, no, that was too ordinary. It was held at a hotel where couples paid $60 for tickets and wore formal attire. When I left the church for a year and was telling those at the new church about the elaborate Christmas parties, one woman said with astonishment, “That’s a church?” Of course, this eliminated many of the congregation from participating in the church parties.
The minister was fond of saying that you could look into your checkbook and see a deficit but that was not the truth. The truth was, you were a child of God and could draw prosperity to you because God wanted you to be prosperous. Whenever he gave sermons on tithing, his familiar phrases included “You can’t out give God” and “What you sow, you reap.”
There was an implication that you could only be blessed according to the amount of your tithes. Whenever I spoke out against this, saying no one needed to buy God’s love as he blessed everyone by faith, followers would get angry with me. This created too much cognitive dissonance. It was less painful to blame me than to look at the faults of a man in whom they had erroneously put all their faith.
The focus was always on the idea that prosperity equaled money, not other things, such as love, health and other blessings. Because the minister was obsessed to show his followers that he was rich and his life was better than he ever imagined because he was living the spiritual life, he drove an expensive car, dressed impeccably, and traveled the world over, often accompanied by his wife and children. They traveled to such places as Greece, Africa, England, Italy, France, Spain, Florida, New York, Cancun and more.
By time they returned from one trip, they had the next one planned and would boldly announce it during the first Sunday they returned. Only a handful of people in the church could afford to go on long, extravagant trips that frequently, so the minister and his church were catering to a select few, mostly the more wealthy followers. Of course, his absences meant that those who could not afford to travel went without his services. But the congregation continued to tithe.
Without a doubt, cainistic individuals, including Cains in the pulpit, hold a prestige-oriented view toward money and they use it to boost their ego.
