Uncloaking a Common Church Scam

 My phone rang, and I couldn’t believe what I heard when I answered.

When I was serving in a Savannah church plant, a call came through our electronic church line, setting the stage for this unexpected encounter.  I prepared myself for a potential ministry call, so I answered, “This is Pastor Shaun.  How may I help you?”   I heard a man’s voice, and he exclaimed to (presumably) his wife, “Honey, I got the pastor on the line!  Let’s stand to show our respect!”

Of course, I told him that wasn’t necessary.  I admit that I smiled to myself, thinking about how peculiar that moment was.  But, brushing it aside, I asked how I might help. 

He explained that he visited our church this week while I was unavailable.   So, he
spoke to my secretary, telling her about visiting family in Savannah, but that he and his wife’s vehicle had broken down, leaving them stranded.  They just needed a bus ticket to get back home.  So, she gave him my card.

That sounded like a reasonable enough scenario.  If it was their first time hearing the “we’re stranded” scenario, perhaps some pastors would be quick to open the petty cash.  However, I found the situation he described a bit confusing and somewhat amusing. 

Remember, we were but a church plant, meaning that we were sans physical building and secretary.  As a matter of fact, we were meeting in a restaurant banquet room at the time.  Still, I did have cards, and it was possible he meant he came in on Sunday and interacted with a member of our congregation in my absence.

So, on the outside possibility this man was sincere, I decided to roll with it.  At the very least, it would make an entertaining story!  After a brief prayer, I apologized for not being present during his purported visit.  I then asked him about his impressions of our church.

He painted an elaborate picture.  He began by saying the church was conveniently situated right off Abercorn (which cuts through Savannah).  He then described a beautiful lawn leading up to a majestic, brick building.  He also loved that we had a barbeque grill out back for our gatherings. 

I was enthralled, thinking this was a nice vision for us to fulfill one day!  Of course, though, save a few larger facilities, he could have been describing almost any church in our city.  He clearly he had never visited us.

After he was done weaving his tale, I acknowledged his descriptive flourish.  Probing further, I said I just had to ask him again: “Are you sure you got my card from there?”  He said he was, slowly reading the name of our church back to me.

Since I had heard enough, I said that that something didn’t make sense to me.  I gently told him our church doesn’t have a building, and it didn’t meet in town, either.  That means he couldn’t have possibly visited us. 

He chuckled, betraying some discomfort.  After a moment, he replied that he must have gotten my card from somewhere.  (At the time, I didn’t think to question him about that, but later, I thought that a simple web search would have given him the same information on our card.)   Regaining his steam, he reiterated that he needed help.  He then asked why it mattered how he got my information.

That question left me an open door, of course.  Slowly, and as politely as I could, I said, “Since you’re asking for help, I need to determine whether this is a legitimate need.”  Of course, this question changed the tone of the conversation, and he curtly asked why I need to do that. 

With his annoyance becoming more clear, I responded as calmly as possible.  I continued, “We have a responsibility to our church members.  Believe it or not, there are people who call local churches, taking advantage of them by asking them for money.  That takes money from our members, should they have a need.” 

He scoffed and replied he had a real need.

So, I asked if he could help me understand something.  I asked, “If you were dishonest with me about how you visited our church, how can I believe you when you say that you’re stuck in the city and need a ticket?”

I imagine he really stood at this point, given his tone and volume.  Speaking directly into the phone, he stated that, as a pastor, it was my job to give people money.  He also said Jesus wouldn’t like me being so judgmental.  

I replied that the Lord has not commanded pastors to blind charity.

(“Yes, He did!”)

I continued that the Lord has, in fact, called all pastors to utilize sound judgment.  This isn’t just necessary in financial matters; we have to be able to tell people that lying is a sin which can keep us from the kingdom. 

I was hoping to get into a gospel presentation.  However, he then hung up at that point while yelling something. 

While it may seem better to give money to all who ask, the Lord has not called us to blind generosity.  There is a balance we must walk between compassion and prudence.  This is why the Apostle Paul in 1 Timothy 5:3–16 tells us to help widows who are “widows indeed,” balancing genuine need and character against encouraging families to take care of their own.  Sometimes, help comes differently than we might expect.