When someone needs a blood transfusion, should you sell your blood to them, or give it freely? How much is blood worth? What is the price of human life? These are questions most haven’t thought much about, but the landmark 1970 book The Gift Relationship: From Human Blood to Social Policy explores them deeply. The author, British sociologist Richard Titmuss, carefully considers the moral, ethical, and practical implications of turning human blood into merchandise. Through his comparative study of the blood donation systems in the United States and Britain, he exposes the troubling consequences of commercializing blood. And he’s not alone. Many others have been wrestling with the issue of whether or not parts of the human body can be turned into products. So the main question I want to raise in this article is: if even unbelievers are questioning the propriety of selling the sacred, why aren’t Christians questioning the propriety of selling parts of the body of Christ (i.e. ministry)?
In the early 20th century Americans began offering payment for blood/plasma donations, effectively turning it into a commodity to be bought and sold. U.S. human blood products today total more than $24 billion in sales globally, and account for nearly 3 percent of U.S. exports, which is a higher percentage than soybeans and several other crops that are sold overseas. “So much of the world’s bought-and-sold blood parts originate in the United States that it’s comparable to a global oil cartel.”[1] The United States expanded the blood market into a massive industry that stretches across hundreds of communities, thriving wherever economic hardship has pushed people to the point of selling a piece of themselves.
The World Health Organization set a goal in 1997 for all blood donations to come from unpaid volunteer donors, but as of 2018, only 64 countries have reached this standard. In some countries like Brazil, Australia, and the United Kingdom, it is illegal to receive any compensation, monetary or otherwise, for the donation of blood or other human tissues.[2] By contrast, in the U.S. most blood is purchased, even though those receiving financial compensation for their blood continue to be called “donors.”
So which countries are doing the right thing?
Kat Lanteigne, executive director of Toronto-based Blood Watch says, “I oppose paid plasma all day, every day. [Paying for plasma] preys on vulnerable populations,” and undermines voluntary blood donation. “As soon as you get your donor base attached to gaining money it’s been proven time and time again that you can’t get those donors back into the voluntary pool.” She also argues that plasma belongs in the public sector, lest pharmaceutical companies gain control of it and set prices as high as they like.[3]
The Nuffield Council on Bioethics lists a series of values commonly invoked to address this dilemma: altruism, autonomy, dignity, justice, maximising health and welfare, reciprocity, and solidarity. They write, “the role of the state with respect to donation should be understood as one of stewardship, actively promoting measures that will improve general health.” And “altruism, long promulgated as the only ethical basis for donation of bodily material, should continue to play a central role in ethical thinking in this field…. We do reject the concept of the purchase of bodily material, where money exchanges hands in direct return for body parts. We distinguish such purchase clearly from the use of money or other means to reward or recompense donors.”[4]
The donation of blood is a voluntary, free gesture and, in accordance with the principle that the human body cannot become a source of financial gain, is not remunerated. The fact that it is free does not preclude some form of reimbursement for the donor, but this should not be of such a kind as to distort the nature of the action, which must remain a donation and a gesture of altruism.[5]
In other words, the Nuffield Council believes that the giving of human blood should be supported, not sold. Italy is one of the few countries that has achieved this balance: law 584 of 1967 grants employees a one-day paid leave of absence for donating blood.[6]
I agree with Titmuss that when something like human blood becomes a product on the market, it distorts social relationships, diminishes the dignity of the human body, and undermines values like generosity, trust, and mutual care. Blood/plasma, like other parts of the human body, should never be sold, but rather supported.
My goal is not to persuade you that selling blood is wrong, but rather to invite you to think about how the ethical considerations around this topic are startlingly relevant for the Church. The parallels between the commodification of blood and the increasing commercialization of Christian ministry are profound. Just as Titmuss and many others critique the sale of human blood, wisdom calls us to critically examine the ways in which spiritual things are being peddled in the modern Church.
We are faced with an uncomfortable reality: while a vast number of secular thinkers continue to reflect deeply on the dangers of commercializing human life and stripping the human body of its dignity, most evangelicals have failed to think about what should be kept holy and not be sold, such as worship, the Word of God, and Christian teaching. Almost no one has this issue on their radar. Again, the problem is not just that the Church has embraced the commercialization of faith, but that it is simply not even thinking about whether God is honored by its mercenary mentality and practice.
The Gift of Life
There is something inherently sacred about the nature of blood. Blood is more than just a biological substance; it symbolizes life itself. This is not only a biblical idea (Lev 17:10-14, Gen 9:4, Deut 12:23), but something many cultures have understood for millennia. The voluntary gift of blood represents an act of communal responsibility and altruism. When people donate blood freely they’re participating in a sacrificial social service, offering something of themselves without expecting anything in return, done in a spirit of brotherly love for the good of their fellow man.
But when blood becomes something that can be monetized, the dynamics change. Blood donation becomes transactional, based on reciprocity. People give blood not out of altruism but out of financial need or desire. This shift not only undermines altruism and cheapens the value of human life, but also creates ethical concerns. For example, the quality of blood may diminish as people desperate for money sell their blood even when their health has been neglected or compromised.[7]
Paying for blood incentivizes and legitimizes the utilitarian view of human beings as economic units, reducing the value of human life to its marketable parts. In the U.S. this has created disparities, as the wealthy can buy blood and the poor are more likely to sell theirs—a dynamic many find deeply problematic. When the transactional logic of the market infiltrates something as fundamental as the gift of blood, it erodes the ethical and relational fabric of society. Blood, a symbol of life and community, should be shared freely, not parceled out based on economic need or greed. This principle of keeping sacred things from the corrosive power of commodification should resonate with the Church.
Commodifying the Sacred in Evangelicalism
As we’ve written about at length on this site, contemporary evangelicalism has traded the gift relationship of ministry for a market mentality, despite the fact that Christians, of all people, should be most concerned with the sacred nature of ministry. Spiritual things intended for the edification of the Church have increasingly been treated like goods in a marketplace. From selling sermons and worship music to charging fees for biblical counseling and conferences, many evangelical ministries have adopted the same transactional mindset that Titmuss and others critique in the context of blood donation. Have evangelicals at large become vampires of commerce, draining the widow of every last drop of money for access to truth, incapable of holding anything sacred, denigrating the dignity of ministry for financial gain?
Consider the parallel: just as human blood is essential for physical life, the truth of the gospel is essential for spiritual life. Yet instead of God’s gifts being freely offered to all, some have decided to lock them behind paywalls, copyright, and subscription services. The very things intended to bring life—both spiritual and physical—have been transformed into merchandise, depriving the most vulnerable of the life-giving power that was given by God to us for free in the first place.
Just as blood donation should rely on selflessness, so too should ministry rely on the obedience and free giving of the Body of Christ. If blood should be freely given to those in need without expectation of payment, why should Christian ministry be treated any differently? If blood donation can be supported, instead of sold, why can’t we do the same with Spirit-empowered service for the edification of the Body?
The parallel with human blood is not the only or main reason Christian ministry should never be sold; Christ’s command to freely give in the context of ministry is paramount (Matt 10:8). We keep holy things out of the marketplace because Christ, along with the rest of Scripture, mandates it. But analogs with other things like the human body are instructive and valuable for our consideration. They help us see that, even for those who reject the command of Christ, there are good reasons to refuse to sell the sacred. The commercialization of both blood and ministry ultimately corrupts something intended to be a profound and beautiful gift. What is given to save lives, both physically and spiritually, should not be subjected to market forces, but rather offered as an expression of love, given of grace as it was received of grace.
Instead of viewing ministry as an act of self-giving love, many evangelicals have embraced a business model. This worship of worldly market wisdom demoralizes spiritual relationships within the Body of Christ. Believers become consumers, and those offering Spirit-given ministry become service sellers. The holiness of ministry is lost, swallowed up by the same commercial logic that Titmuss warned about with blood.
For those who want to dive deeper into these issues, we recommend reading The Dorean Principle by Conley Owens, which unpacks how the commercialization of Christianity violates biblical ethics. Additionally, exploring resources on this website (sellingJesus.org) can provide more reasons to resist the commodification of ministry and reclaim it as a free gift.
Kathleen McLaughlin, Blood Money: The Story of Life, Death, and Profit Inside America’s Blood Industry (Atria, 2023), 42. ↩︎
Ibid. ↩︎
https://www.regione.toscana.it/documents/10180/23327/inglese/e7ae21b0-d0a1-4156-a15d-4d2c3527bc89 ↩︎
See real examples of this in chapter 2 of McLaughlin, Blood Money. ↩︎