This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2015, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

In the journals of my Mormon pioneer ancestor is a meticulous account of tithing paid to the LDS Church. Cash-strapped and starving, Korihor Kirby made his offerings "in kind."

Here's how it worked. At the end of the harvest, Korihor would look around his meager patch and decide how much of it represented a tenth. Most early years it would fit into a small tote sack.

For example, 1856 was a particularly lean year for Korihor and his three wives. They lived in a tree in Cache County and had little of real substance. But it was either pay tithing or go to hell which, theologically at least, was worse than living in a tree.

"September 21. Tithing to bishop: Two cabbages, slightly used poultice for piles, and third wife's shoes."

For his steadfastness in building up Zion, Korihor hoped to be blessed. He was. Sort of. Proof was that 1858 turned out to be a better year.

"October 1. Tithing to storehouse. Two bushels cabbage, three pumpkins, sack of seagull beaks and feet, moccasin discarded by Lamanite fleeing gunfire, and one heavily muzzled wolf which may or may not be rabid. Goes by name of Parley."

If this isn't an example of the principle of tithing at work, I don't know what is. Still, I've often wondered if Grandpa Korihor felt the same way.

Despite his commitment, he was "blessed" with the deaths of a wife and six babies, the loss of most of his toes, a twin brother permanently addled by lightning, and a stretch in the territorial slam for cohabitation.

By the time I came along, tithing wasn't paid in-kind anymore, at least not by the average Mormon. The church could no longer be bothered with old shoes, bags of potatoes, or extra children. It wanted cash.

For a financially simple person like me, cash still worked out to paying in-kind. If I gave the church a hundred bucks that I was saving for a new shotgun, it was as if I had given them the shotgun. I sure as hell didn't have it.

Until recently, joyful tithing was something that could be monitored. It was stuffed into an envelope and hand-delivered to a member of the bishopric, who could judge by the look on your face whether you'd rather have a new [whatever] instead.

If paid joyfully, you kicked back and waited for the windows of heaven to open for blessings. This was always the subjective part for me. Case in point, when I got an arrow stuck in my inner thigh. It was a flesh wound but nevertheless a matter of some deep doctrinal concern.

Was my injury a punishment for secretly wishing I had the shotgun, or a blessing that the arrow didn't hit me someplace more vital (and eye-watering) because I paid tithing?

Never mind. The payment of tithing is a slowly evolving process. Won't be long before Mormons can dispense with the envelopes and make our tithes online.

Yes, in the safety of our own homes and/or handheld devices, where no one can see the look on our faces, we can work the numbers and pay tithing with the simple tap of a finger. There may even come a time when we can pay Bitcoin tithing.

Then there's paying tithing via a card reader on the bishop's phone. I don't know about that one. It brings back the human element. He can see your face when you do it and tell whether it's a joyful tithing.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley. Find his past columns at http://www.sltrib.com/lifestyle/kirby