Tentmaking

The term tentmaking comes from the trade and practice of the remarkable New Testament couple Aquila and Priscilla, who were self-supporting Christian workers in three cities, Corinth, Ephesus and Rome. They sewed and sold tents that were made either from rough cloth woven from goats’ hair or leather (Barnett, p. 926). The apostle Paul worked alongside this couple (Acts 18:1-3), supporting his own apostolic ministry by a trade, though from time to time he received financial support and patronage from distant churches (2 Cor. 11:9; Phil. 4:10-20). Tentmaking is a pattern of relating work and ministry so that both are for God’s glory, but the work supports the primary calling of a person in some form of in-church or outreach ministry. The tentmaker thus has a second major arena of service in addition to the workplace. Over the centuries and especially today in the light of the global mission of the people of God, tentmaking commends itself both theologically and strategically.

Relating Work and Ministry

In his classic work The Case for the Voluntary Clergy, Roland Allen notes the subtle distinction implicit in the tentmaking approach: “The distinction between the stipendiary (remunerated) and voluntary clergy is not a distinction between men who give their whole time to the service of God and His church and men who give part of their time to that service, but a distinction between one form of service and another” (1930, pp. 86-88). This form of service concerns the work-ministry mix, in which three patterns can be discerned: the supported Christian worker, the Christian professional and the tentmaker.

The supported (remunerated) Christian worker cannot distinguish between work and ministry, though the central idea behind financial support of Christian workers is not salaried employment with its contractual obligations but the receipt of a living. This apostolic right and privilege Paul defended vigorously from the examples provided by everyday life, the law, pagan and Jewish temples and the words of the Lord Jesus (1 Cor. 9:1-14). While Paul defended his right to the patronage of the Corinthians, he refused that right at least in Corinth, Ephesus and Thessalonica for reasons we will explore. Peter is a biblical example of a person who accepted the privilege of financial support.

The Christian professional approaches a challenging career or role in society as his or her primary arena for service in the kingdom of God. Service in the gathered church is normally related to discretionary time. Here again work and ministry are almost totally integrated. In the modern Western world these people are the least supported in the prayers, honor and equipping ministry of the church, especially in the case of homemakers and volunteer workers when their social service in society is unremunerated. Sometimes these people are lured from the ministry they have in the workplace into taking highly demanding church leadership roles and, tragically, may give only leftovers to the workplace. Biblical examples of this option are found in Joseph, a professional politician in Egypt; Nehemiah, a personal assistant to the president; and Bezalel, a Spirit-inspired craftsman in the Old Testament (Exodus 31:1-11). The reference in Phil. 4:22 to the church in Caesar’s household is perhaps an indication of the Christian professional from New Testament times.

In the tentmaking option, work is for ministry. The great danger of this arrangement is that one will regard one’s work as merely the means of making a livelihood rather than an arena of cocreativity, mission and caretaking of God’s world (Genesis 2:15). Tents (or some modern equivalent) should be made, not only to gain access to a closed society, but for God’s glory and people’s use. The Christian at work actually serves God and God’s purposes even in the most mundane tasks (Col. 3:22-25). So the true tentmaker witnesses in his or her work, not just works in order to be positioned to witness. The reasons are profoundly theological.

Theology of Tentmaking

Tentmaking raises important questions not only about the nature of work but about Christian vocation, ministry and mission.

The frequent use of the term bivocational missionary when describing a tentmaker is misleading and incorrect. There is one calling or vocation, not two. Paul says that all Christians are called (Ephes. 4:1) and that the call of God is all-embracing: it includes church, family and society (Ephes. 4:1-6:20). The idea of vocation is quite different from what is involved in an occupation or profession, both of which are chosen by the person. To be a called person is to live one’s life in response to the summons of Christ to discipleship, service and holiness. There is no hierarchy of calls within the people of God; there are only different expressions of the general calling to all according to gift, talent and temperament of the individuals.

Ministry is essentially an amateur matter in the true sense of the word—done for love rather than professionally. Tragically the church has allowed an amateur vocation to become something done by certain professionals. Roland Allen points out, “There is something in ministration in holy things which prevents certain men [sic] from receiving any material reward for such service. It is for them so essentially a service of God that they cannot bring themselves to receive any payment from men for doing it” (1930, p. 79). There is a long tradition for this, including, for example, Elisha (2 Kings 5:16, but see 2 Kings 5:20-27), Amos and Nehemiah (Neh. 5:14, 17). Jesus broke with the commercialism of the temple and cleansed it prophetically. We have no recorded instance of his receiving remuneration from the people he served though he did receive support from some of his disciples (Luke 8:3). Paul received support from the Philippians but not when he was serving them. Indeed, it appears Paul did not receive support from any church while he was with them (Everts, p. 297). To the Ephesians he could state he coveted no person’s silver or gold and experienced the joy of giving rather than receiving (Acts 20:33-35). Paul’s pattern is especially illuminating.

Tentmaking expresses not only biblical vocation and ministry but also biblical mission. God’s first commission (Genesis 1:26, 28) invites men and women to become world-makers through being garden-makers, structure-makers, culture-makers, homemakers, justice-makers, knowledge-makers, beauty-makers, communication-makers, image-makers, peacemakers and community-makers. All of these are dimensions of human work. But they also embrace the idea of mission: going forth and being sent. Implicit in the first commission is movement, so central to the biblical understanding of mission. The earth cannot be filled without moving, which is why the scattering that took place in Genesis 11 is both punishment and opportunity. Abraham and Sarah ministered on the move, God revealing himself to them as they did so. Joseph moved to Egypt, and in the movement from prison to palace he came to know God’s sovereign purpose more fully, made the economy work (the first futures trader on the grain market) and was reconciled to his brothers. Naomi was a homemaker who made her home on the move. She modeled God’s character, and Ruth chose the God of Naomi, moving with her mother-in-law. Jesus was born on the move, grew up on the move and ministered on the move, modeling work and mission through relocation.

The Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20) does not replace the cultural commission (Genesis 1:28-30). Rather it creates the context for its fulfillment and, by reconciling people to God, empowers them to become fully human and to humanize the world as world-makers. Tentmaking is a time-honored way of accomplishing the church’s mission in the world. The church has never relied mainly on professionally trained and financially remunerated workers to accomplish its global agenda—until today.

History of Tentmaking

Over 75 percent of the major religious characters in the Bible were not full-time, supported workers. This is very obvious in the Old Testament, as the aforementioned figures demonstrate, but is also manifest in the New Testament. Paul and Barnabas left the international church in Antioch for Cyprus and this “traveling seminary” picked up Luke (Acts 16:11), Timothy (Acts 16:3), Aquila and Priscilla (Acts 18:18), Erastus (Acts 19:22), Sopater, Aristarchus, Secundus, Gaius, Tychicus and Trophimus (Acts 20:4). These early missionaries were constantly on the go and learned in transit. Priscilla and Aquila, our primary tentmaking models, were themselves mobile. They moved from Rome to Corinth when the Jews were persecuted under Claudius, then to Ephesus and back again to Rome, presumably in advance of Paul, who was delayed two years by being shuffled from court to prison. Much of the Christian mission in the first century was undertaken in the context of movement. For example, Lydia, whom Paul met at Philippi, was a textile merchant from Thyatira and became the first church member in Europe. Churches, such as the one at Colossae, were planted along the trade routes in Asia through Paul’s two-year marketplace mission in Ephesus (Acts 19:10) and without the benefit of financially supported workers. Today we should expect international travelers, people on overseas assignment and people doing business with multinationals to be frontline missionaries. They should be prepared, prayed for and recognized in local churches.

In the first three centuries, tentmaking church leadership was the norm, not the exception. Roland Allen cites the Apostolic Constitution and Apostolic Canons to show that bishops of large areas were shepherds (literal) and silversmiths. Even pastors of large churches, of six hundred or more people, were self-supporting in business. The major discussions in the church councils on this subject were not whether pastors should work but whether they should be prohibited from taking work in distant provinces managing estates, work that would take them away from the flock. More importantly, the early church conferences were concerned about the discipline of pastors who took work to make as much money as possible (Allen 1930, pp. 297-303). Allen argues that the cause of Christ can be advanced worldwide not by sending an army of trained professionals with a European education, dependent on their home country, but by mobilizing an army of volunteers, some of them like the apostle Paul and William Carey, paying the price of being crosscultural missionaries who support themselves in government work, international trade, education or consulting. Allen was decades ahead of his time. Today we are still not as radical in ministry and mission as the church was in New Testament times.

Many of the most influential figures in the modern Christian movement were tentmakers in the sense we have defined it: some Roman Catholic missionaries, Methodist lay preachers, William Carey (a shoemaker who became a manager of an indigo factory in India), other early Baptists who rejoiced that malsters and tinkers were pastoring churches, the Christian Brethren (including Rendle Short, a surgeon and preacher) and many nameless people in the former Soviet Union and other countries that are still closed (Wilson; Neill and Weber).

William Carey maintained that, whenever possible, practical missionaries should support themselves in whole or in part. Writing in 1792 he countered stock objections to service in distant parts:

As to their distance from us, whatever objections might have been made on that account before the invention of the mariner’s compass, nothing can be alleged for it, with any color of plausibility in the present age. Men can now sail with as much certainty through the Great South Sea, as they can through the Mediterranean, or any lesser Sea. Yea, and providence seems in a manner to invite us to the trial, as there are to our knowledge trading companies, whose commerce lies in many of the places where these barbarians dwell. (Carey, pp. 67-68)

The modern world is ripe for tentmaking missionaries. With ubiquitous travel, urbanization as a global phenomenon, a world economy, an international job market, rapid technology transfers and the pervasiveness of English, opportunities for sensitive tentmaking missionaries—for short or long periods of time—abound. But the reasons commending tentmaking are deeper than mere strategic expediency.

Why Tentmaking?

Paul’s own case for tentmaking is the most illustrative. Though one could argue that this gifted church-planter, apostle and theologian could have accomplished more by being full time in supported ministry, Paul uses persuasive arguments to the contrary, arguments that carry weight today.

Tentmakers are determined not to be a burden to the people they serve. Undoubtedly Paul’s work was arduous. It was not peripheral but central to his daily life (Hock, pp 558-59). He labored and toiled night and day (Acts 20:35; 1 Thes. 2:9; 2 Thes. 3:8). In Corinth especially this did not come easily. Paul’s reason for accepting this hardship was simply not to be a burden (2 Cor. 12:16; 1 Thes. 2:6). In contrast to the desire of the Corinthians—that he might live under the patronage of some of their wealthy members (Barnett, p. 926)—Paul boasted to the Thessalonians that he did not “eat anyone’s food without paying for it” (2 Thes. 3:8).

Tentmakers set an example. Paul undertook a tentmaking lifestyle as an example to others of priorities and balance in ministry. In Ephesus his working from early dawn to midevening demonstrated his generosity: “In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said, `It is more blessed to give than to receive’ ” (Acts 20:35). Like Jesus, Christian leaders come not to be ministered to but to serve, not to receive but to give. Paul believed that his tentmaking approach helped the weak in faith, who frequently imagine that their next step in discipleship is to be supported financially by other Christians. In Thessalonica Paul faced a different problem. The people there thought the Lord’s coming was just around the corner. As they waited for the end, they sponged on the people who were working. Paul gave himself as a “model” (2 Thes. 3:9) and commanded the idlers to work (2 Thes. 3:12; see also 1 Thes. 2:9; 1 Thes. 4:11-12). A third modeling value, already mentioned, was to show the dignity of work, especially in contexts in which work was devalued. But the deepest reason for Paul’s practice was the gospel itself.

Tentmakers are determined not to hinder the gospel. I return to the searching passage in 1 Cor. 9 where Paul defends the right of Christian workers to be supported. He does this by appealing to the law, to the normal practice of paying people for work and to the words of Jesus. But Paul says, “We did not use this right. On the contrary, we put up with anything rather than hinder the gospel of Christ” (1 Cor. 9:12). It is a strange statement. Normally we would think that Paul’s having to spend eight to ten hours a day working kept him from doing the really important ministry of preaching the gospel and planting churches. But Paul believed that if he did receive a living from the Corinthians, he would probably hinder the gospel.

His reasons were related to the practice of ancient philosophers and missionaries who were supported by fees, patronage and begging as well as by working. The Corinthians were offended that Paul did not accept their patronage and thus questioned whether he was fit to be their apostle. Even worse was Paul’s choice of a demeaning trade in a society that despised manual work (Fee, pp. 399-422; see also Hock, pp. 555-64). Paul’s stance had to do with the nature of gospel ministry. The gospel is a free gift. Paul is not “free” to choose whether to proclaim this gospel. So he chooses to embody the essential nature of gospel ministry (as a free gift) by giving his own ministry “free of charge,” thus ironically getting his pay by taking no pay (1 Cor. 9:18). As the servant songs in Isaiah (Isaiah 42:1-9; Isaiah 49:1-7; Isaiah 50:4-9; Isaiah 52:13-53:12) show, service rendered to God springs from a heart broken by God’s loving invasion and freed from material motives or means. Tentmaking is one way of demonstrating the relation of ministry and reward. When disciples have only done their duty or have performed their contractual obligations of ministry for pay, they are still unprofitable servants (Luke 17:10).

Paul wanted to make it absolutely clear that he had no ulterior motive for sharing Jesus. He defends the rights of others to be supported but denies those rights himself. He thus gives a powerful motive for supporting others while refusing to raise one’s own support by the kind of entrepreneurial activity now so generally required by Christian organizations. Just as a church has no right to demand that its leaders must all be tentmakers, so should a Christian worker not demand support. These are gifts of grace.

There are strategic reasons for tentmaking that relate to the advancement of the gospel by people whose primary employment is located in the world. As Roland Allen says,

The hedge round the clergy is a very high and cultivated one . . . and consequently the restriction of ordination generally to men trained from youth within that hedge inevitably results in the clergy being more or less out of touch with the common experiences of common men. . . . The voluntary cleric carries the priesthood into the marketplace and the office. (1930, pp. 86-88).

For someone to minister as a gift is not only beautiful; it is expedient if we are to reach our generation for Christ. Quite possibly, the most expedient thing today to reach the pagan North American population is to have fewer supported missionaries and more self-supported ministers (Stevens, p. 141).

The Problems of Tentmaking

As already mentioned, tentmakers do not have an easy road to travel. But no form of Christian service, including that of the remunerated worker, is easy. Tentmakers usually find themselves with the equivalent of three full-time jobs: work, ministry and family (not in order of priority). It is impossible to contain Christian service within nine-to-five or after-six time frames. Not surprisingly Paul worked night and day. Work and sabbath are essential for tentmakers to be more than survivors. But there will not be much time for work, sabbath and extensive leisure. It is worth mentioning, however, that coping with multiple responsibilities may have a salutary effect in comparison with Christian service workers who have few natural rhythms built into their weeks. Few tentmakers burn out, perhaps because there is a healthier balance in their lifestyle.

Further, tentmakers rarely receive affirmation within the church unless they are ordained. Even then they may be treated as second class to the ordained and full-time workers. Tentmakers overseas have few support structures and are not treated on a par with full-time missionaries with their three-color glossy prayer cards and deputation schedules. Until such support structures are put in place, tentmakers will need to be entrepreneurial. They may also be forced, with surprisingly happy results, to find their support structure in the best place of all—the local churches where they serve. These difficulties notwithstanding, few tentmakers would have it any other way for reasons that are deeply inward and spiritual.

The Spirit of Tentmaking

In spite of the drift of our society toward professionalism, the real future of the kingdom is with volunteers and amateurs. The spirit that motivates tentmaking takes us to the essence of Christian spirituality and gospel theology. Paul lived extravagantly because his Lord loved him extravagantly. In all religious systems the gods demand sacrifice, and the worshipers give it. But in Christianity God is the first to sacrifice, and God gives everything. Were this not the case, the Christian way would be a life of impossible burdens, including the burden of refusing to covet the silver and gold of others (Acts 20:33) and the burden of giving ministry free of charge. So even tentmaking must not become a duty. It is one way some of God’s servants choose to love. The first love-worker or amateur is God, who is also the first volunteer worker. And the mystery implicit in the words of Jesus found only in Paul’s quotation is that “it is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). In giving ministry free of charge we receive the Giver who impoverishes himself for our enrichment (2 Cor. 8:9).

References and Resources

R. Allen, The Case for the Voluntary Clergy (London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1930); R. Allen, Missionary Methods: St. Paul’s or Ours? (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1962); P. W. Barnett, “Tentmaking,” Dictionary of Paul and His Letters, ed. G. F. Hawthorne, R. P. Martin and D. G. Reid (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1993) 925-27; W. Carey, An Inquiry into the Obligations of Christians to Use Means for the Conversion of the Heathens (1792; reprint, London: Carey Kingsgate Press, 1961); J. Elliott, Our Pastor Has an Outside Job (Valley Forge, Penn.: Judson, 1980); J. M. Everts, “Financial Support,” Dictionary of Paul and His Letters, ed. G. F. Hawthorne, R. P. Martin and D. G. Reid (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1993) 295-300; G. D. Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians, New International Commentary of the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987); M. Gibbs and R. T. Morton, God’s Frozen People (London: Fontana Books, 1964); R. F. Hock, “Paul’s Tentmaking and the Problem of His Social Class,” Journal of Biblical Literature 97 (1978) 555-64; S. C. Neill and H. Weber, The Layman in Christian History (London: SCM, 1963); R. P. Stevens, Liberating the Laity (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1985); C. J. Wilson, Today’s Tentmakers (Wheaton, Ill.: Tyndale, 1979).

—R. Paul Stevens