Why shouldn’t people donate to rebuilding Notre Dame? It’s their money and their choice.

In the last week there has been much discussion and debate about efforts to rebuild the fire-ravaged Notre Dame cathedral in Paris and, perhaps more notably, the fundraising efforts to support it.

With more than £500 million raised inside 24 hours to help rebuild the gutted building as people across the world suffer illness, disease, living in war zones and all manner of other horrors without the kind of mass financial support provided to the Parisian repair project, it is no surprise that it has raised eyebrows, and tempers, across the world.

 And it is little wonder that the actions of billionaire backers who have publicly supported the campaign have been seen by many as nothing more than a leap onto the bandwagon of public opinion in an attempt to gain popularity.

Many have been critical of those supporting the rebuilding appeal for ploughing their money into bricks and mortar when people across the globe are suffering and could really use that money. Areas of the internet have resounded with cries that it is “just a building” – and a religious one at that.

And many have commented on how the speed and size of response to the fire in France demonstrate how easily issues of poverty could be eradicated if those with money and influence wanted to stamp them out.

The inference has been clear: That the money being throw towards helping rebuild this medieval cathedral should instead have been invested in easing the plight of suffering people across the globe.

It’s a sentiment that, on the face of it, is difficult to argue with. But is it that simple? Should it be an either/or scenario? Is Notre Dame, as so many have described it in recent days, “just a building”? And who are we – any of us – to dictate how others should spend their money and what should motivate them to do so?

Firstly, is it “just a building”? There’s no denying that it’s a building, that’s for sure, and I’ve been known to visit lavishly-decorated buildings – especially religious buildings – and feel challenged at the opulence of their fixtures and fittings against the backdrop of humanitarian suffering. But to my mind Notre Dame never fitted that category. It was beautiful inside and out but never ostentatious, never felt to me like it wore wealth and grandeur where, as a church building, it should have been adorned with warmth and compassion.

What Notre Dame did – and still does – carry included centuries of history and heritage. It was a focal point which which Parisians and, more broadly, people across France could associate part of their cultural identity. And as both a landmark building and a church, it drew many millions of people to it. For people of all faiths and none it provided a place of quiet contemplation. A place to admire the beauty of an iconic man-made structure and consider, if they wished, the beauty and origin of the wider world around it. A place of joy and a place of solace.

As a church, it is a place where many will have felt a deeper connection in their faith. As a tourist destination, it is a place where many will have made memories by visiting with loved ones and perhaps, like me, had hoped and planned to make further memories with other loved ones in the future. I have fond memories visiting Notre Dame during childhood trips to Paris with my dad. Alongside my holiday memories of eating whole baguettes by the Seine for lunch (shared with the pigeons, naturally), I can clearly recall visiting the cathedral, admiring the magnificent rose windows, lighting candles and feeling in awe of the God I knew existed but did not yet personally know.

The fact that so much has been raised in such a short time towards the rebuilding efforts is testament to how well loved and treasured that building is by so many people for so many reasons. Undoubtedly it’s possible that some of those who have donated have done so because they spotted an opportunity for some good PR. But at the end of the day, who are we do say what anyone, however much or little they have, should spend their money on?

What troubles me most about all I have seen in recent days is the suggestion that the money that’s been donated towards the rebuilding of Notre Dame should be directed elsewhere, as if there were such a small amount of money in the world that it was an either or choice.

It’s absolutely right that the speed and volume of donations to this appeal have highlighted the ease with which money can be donated to good causes. And I share the dismay that many have expressed that, while the Notre Dame appeal has skyrocketed so quickly, there as still so many people in so much need around the world and, it would appear, people with plenty of money to address those needs.

But ultimately, how any individual chooses to spend their money, whether a billionaire or someone on a low income struggling to make ends meet, is their business and, in the main, none of anybody else’s. What, if any, charitable causes they choose to donate towards and what motivates them to do so are, again, matters for them and them alone.

If I told someone I’d found a tenner in my coat pocket and had decided to give it to the British Heart Foundation I wouldn’t expect them to say, “Oh, but you shouldn’t; Cancer Research UK could really do with that money.” I’m sure it could, as could countless other charities. But if I have £10 and I want to give that £10, it’s my choice how and to whom I do that. It’s my choice if I decide I’m feeling extra generous and I’m going to match my £10 find with another £10 so I can give a double donation to charity. It’s also my choice if I decide that, rather than giving it away, I’m going to treat myself to a takeaway. Because it’s my money – or rather it’s money that has come to me to steward and use in the way I see fit.

And why does it have to be an either/or question? If I were to find a tenner in my pocket and decide to give it to the British Heart Foundation, that wouldn’t prevent me giving another tenner to Cancer Research UK as long as I had one.

The Bible makes it clear that we should be generous with what we have. The words of 1 John chapter 3, verses 16-18, highlight how, like Jesus laid down his life for us, we are called to give sacrificially of our possessions to help others, and ends with the instruction. “Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” 

Matthew chapter 6, verses 19-21 cautions again storing up earthly treasures like money, with the warning, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Hebrews 13:16 and and Matthew 10:8 are among many other verses that encourage us to give and do so generously.

But the Bible also makes it clear where a person’s accountability lies when it comes to their decisions and actions with regard to giving.

Luke 21:1-4 shows how Jesus considered a poor widow who gave her last two coins as more generous than many others who had given gifts from wealth, because she had put in everything she had. To God, that which we keep for ourselves is as significant as that which we give.

And Matthew 6:1 cautions against acts of generosity performed to win the praise of men.

As Romans chapter 1, verse 12 demonstrates, each of us will eventually be called to account to God for our actions, including our generosity or otherwise. And it is for God alone to judge on those actions.

So, rather than decrying the decisions of many people to support the rebuilding or Notre Dame, why don’t we celebrate the generosity that has been shown to that cause, and that which is shown to other causes in times of crisis and day to day? And why don’t we each do what we can, and what we choose to do, to support the charities and causes we feel passionate about rather than criticising those that other people choose to support? And while we’re at it, perhaps we could consider that it is possible that people who have contributed towards the Notre Dame appeal may also have contributed to medical charities, to support refugees, to help combat poverty and to many other causes that they may or may not have chosen to shout about?

When I die I won’t have to account for the actions and spending of the world’s billionaires, or millionaires or even the penniless. I will have to give account of the actions and spending of one person – me. What everyone else does with their wealth or lack of it is none of my concern, like what they or I do is none of yours. Let’s focus on our own generosity or lack of it and let others concern themselves with theirs.

Sarah Moore is the author of For the Love of Lentil, A journey of longing, loss and abundant grace, which tells the story of her experience of pregnancy and miscarriage. Copies of the book are available here.