The Stewardship Reformation

(Yes, I know I didn’t get an extra post up last week. In my defense, I worked 4 of my 7 jobs last week…and to my great surprise since I’d forgotten it’s salaried rather than contracted, got paid for a month’s work at another! Things are settling into place at long last.)

Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the door of Wittenberg Castle Church 499 years ago today (All Hallow’s Eve). I think that’s an important event to celebrate.

Judging by the Facebook posts of colleagues and friends, however, many more churches focused on Stewardship yesterday than on Luther and all that his peers, his critics, and their collective descendants have brought to Christianity in the 21st century. Stewardship is incredibly important, but I wonder how many of us are still doing it in a way that Luther would find appalling: asking for money to the exclusion of all else. And in many cases, using guilt, either implicitly or explicitly, to pressure people into a pledge that may or may not be realistic.

Churches are businesses that require operating capital, no doubt. I have no doubt that the folks who run stewardship drives that focus on money are striving to bring about the best possible outcome for the churches they love. These are invested, creative, caring people who use resources produced by denominations or parachurch organizations faithfully every year, encouraging their fellow parishioners to increase their monetary giving by a percentage or two next year with the eventual goal being that “magic” ten percent tithe. These dedicated folks do a tremendous job, but when the entire conversation is about money, clearly, someone has failed them along the line. 

I think we clergy bear the burden of this money-focused stewardship because many of us don’t teach our congregations to think beyond the bank account toward a more wholistic vision of stewardship. We’re relieved, secretly or visibly, that someone else is talking about the money. We have solid enough boundaries that we don’t know who gives what to the parish and the bookkeepers are equally good at maintaining that confidentiality. We have a love-hate relationship with money (in my own case, I hate that I need money to do the things I love to do and I love that I can earn that hated money doing things I love to do, or, in Facebook lingo: it’s complicated!) that makes it hard for us to think beyond our own financial requirements. Our job security is at stake when the financial concerns of the church are worrisome, to say nothing of full panic mode. We are wrapped up as tightly as anyone else in the money pit.

I think that it’s incumbent upon every one of us who is a congregational leader, lay or ordained, to widen our vision of stewardship beyond our wallets. Let’s encourage our congregations to think about the all-encompassing nature of God’s transfer of “dominion” over the entire created order to humankind. Anyone can start these conversations now in preparation for next year. We could reform stewardship just in time for the 500th anniversary of the Reformation!

What about stewardship of our resources, natural and human-made, in ways that sustain life? Have a conversation about the cost and benefits of washing dishes versus using disposable items for fellowship times. It’s not as clear-cut as you might assume; when you factor in the cost of pumping water (municipal or well), the source of the fuel for heating water and the impact of its production on the environment (oil burner? coal-fired electric plant? natural gas-fired electrical plant? nuclear power plant?), the cost of electricity for using a dishwasher, and the chemical residue in any waste water from detergents, your congregation might be better off using disposable implements made from recycled material or from material that can be recycled. Does your church recycle paper from bulletins and handouts? Could you go paperless once a month? Have you looked into programs for building efficiency, often grants from electricity providers or insurance providers designed to help congregations and businesses “go green”? Is your church complex in the best shape possible for its age and location, or are deferred maintenance issues eating away at time, talent, and treasure? 

What about stewardship of community resources, doing things together more effectively than we can separately, if we can even do particular tasks as individual congregations? Soup kitchens and food pantries are a good place to start, especially because clergy can be “clearinghouses” of information to make sure that limited resources are going to those most in need. Every community has specific, broad needs that faith communities could address in concert by hosting conversations, creating advocacy groups, and partnering with agencies to solve problems rather than put bandages on them; racism, lack of diversity in police and other government agencies, unfair zoning laws, and school inequality are just the first issues that come to mind in communities around Providence, RI. If congregations of all faiths got together, imagine the power to change that could result.

What about stewardship of our personal resources such as time and talent, without which every church I know would fold? Choir members where I currently attend give about 2.5 hours a week of their time and contribute much talent. The bell choir gives an hour every week plus 1 more whenever we play in worship; those of us who are in both groups give 15-17 hours a month. At Massachusetts minimum wage ($10/hr.), over 10 months, choir members give roughly $1025 in quantifiable time and a priceless gift of unquantifiable talent, dual members roughly $1450. Faith formation teachers average 5 hours a week on preparation and teaching. Over 10 months, that’s $2400 in quantifiable time and again, untold value in talent. Could your church pay what the time given to lay leaders is worth? The volunteers who run the church fair, the yard sale, the youth groups, the mission projects? If the answer is no, then why are we not counting those hours as stewardship? Why aren’t we teaching our congregations to value the expertise of their membership, whether that expertise is vocational or avocational, as part of their stewardship?

Do we do a good job stewarding the stories of life-changing encounters with God, Christ, and Spirit in our churches? Do we give people space to tell their stories, finding common points and sharing their amazement at the different ways that God comes to each of us? Do we encourage people to tell their stories about the ways that being participants in our congregations shapes and feeds them for their own particular work in the world? Telling stories and hearing stories is also stewardship: maintenance and growth of the sacred narrative of which we are all part. How would stewardship of time, talent, and treasure be different if once a month someone shared his or her story during worship? In some traditions, that’s called TESTIMONY. Many of us run from it, but I really think it’s essential…and it’s very, very hard to convince people to start sharing, though I understand that once the ice is broken, it’s hard to keep the silence.

A wise colleague once said that there are seasons of stewardship in people’s lives. Sometimes, people have time but not treasure. Sometimes, they have loads of talent but very limited time, so it’s necessary to plan wisely for their abilities to make the biggest difference. Sometimes, people have treasure but not time. A healthy congregation knows the seasons of its members and allows each one to give as they are able in that season. A wise congregation plans for times when more people are in seasons to give time and talent more than treasure. Healthy, wise congregations let members and friends testify to the ways that God is stewarding them through life with the help of the congregation. 

Do you want to be part of the Stewardship Reformation? Pick something and start. Don’t give up. Trust that God is in the widening vision of sharing and nurturing our whole lives.