Money Matters II: Values
FROM THE RECTOR
This is the second in a three-part series on aligning our finances and our faith. You can read the first part here. The last part will come out in a few weeks.
Where do your bananas come from? What about your chicken or pork? How often do you notice where your food is grown, raised, or harvested? In the summer, walking to the farmers’ market at the town square and buying tomatoes or squash or beans from someone who grew them nearby feels good. I know that they are fresh and were grown out in the open instead of in a hothouse. I know that their vibrant flavors will not have been muted because of a long journey in a shipping container. And my purchase helps support a local farmer. In February, I might buy some cherry tomatoes from the supermarket because I cannot get them anywhere else, but I am not willing to make that sacrifice in July, when a much better alternative is available right up the street.
Where does your money come from? Whose labor, talent, or resources contributed to the income you receive? Who signs your paycheck? Which companies are represented in your portfolio? Whose profits trickle down to your bank account? Does knowing where your money comes from matter, and, if so, when would your concerns become so great that you would change the place you work or the stocks you own?
This is the second article in a series that explores the ways that our finances both reflect and shape our faith. The first article was about spending money—how every expense we make as individuals, households, and organizations are opportunities to express a value that goes beyond a price tag. In a few weeks, I will write about the legacy we leave through our estate or other planned gifts. Today’s reflection is about our income and our savings and how the sources of our money say a lot about what matters to us.
Most of us want to work for an organization whose values reflect our own, and, when that company’s practices conflict with our personal ethics, we may try to influence the company from within or change jobs completely. Sometimes the disconnect between our values and those of the people or business for which we work is so significant that we decide to quit our job even before having another option. Some people start their own businesses or work as independent contractors in an attempt to avoid such conflicts, but similar ethical decisions often come up when deciding with which clients and under which circumstances they are willing to work.
For those of us who save and invest money for future needs, the considerations become even more complicated. As a shareholder, am I willing to use my tiny portion of the profits of a petroleum company to send my children to college? To support our household in retirement? To pay my pledge to the church? What if, instead of a petroleum company, it was a business that manufactured weapons? That made usurious loans to vulnerable people? That treated its employees as a disposable resource?
At the denominational, diocesan, and congregational levels, the Episcopal Church has promoted ethical investment practices for decades, but we have not offered much education or guidance for individuals and families. Yet the amount of wealth represented by our collective assets surely exceeds that which lies in parish, diocesan, or even denominational coffers. A few large divestment efforts, such as the one aimed at undermining apartheid, have galvanized institutional or government actors, but we need not rely on centralized efforts to have a meaningful impact. How many of us, as followers of Jesus, have been invited to consider the ways that our savings, investments, and other financial positions are instruments for building up God’s reign in the world?
In response to a dispute between brothers over an inheritance, Jesus told a parable about a rich man whose land produced abundantly. One night, the man, reflecting on his great wealth, asked himself, “What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops? I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’” But God said to the man, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” Perhaps Jesus would take issue with the entire financial planning industry, but I suspect the problem he asks us to identify is our tendency to ignore the ways in which our savings could be used for the sake of others.
Whether it is our paycheck or our investments, deciding to only accept money from ethical sources is costly. Like buying more expensive tomatoes from the farmers’ market, choosing socially responsible investments or working for a socially responsible company will likely require real, measurable sacrifice. In the complex global economy, those tradeoffs are often hard to discern. There is no one right way to align your economic life with the values of God’s reign. Each of us must decide when the sacrifice is worth it.
I do not have a particular method to recommend for making faithful financial decisions, but I do encourage you to take a look at all of the places where your money comes from. Are you benefitting financially from businesses or practices that conflict with your faith? Are there other ways you can use your treasure to build up God’s reign? In my own finances, I have a long way to go before my life mirrors the kingdom of God, but I am beginning to appreciate the power of a multitude of tiny decisions. Together, if we make the principles of our faith central to our economic life, God’s reign will become manifest in radical and transformative ways. The first step is to recognize that where our money comes from really matters. Once we see that, with God’s help, the opportunities to change will present themselves.
Yours Faithfully,
Evan