Too Good Not To Share

FROM THE RECTOR

Think of a time when you were given a piece of news that was so good you felt compelled to share it. A new job, a clear scan, a relationship breakthrough, a financial windfall. Jesus tells parables about individuals who invite their neighbors to a party when they find their lost sheep, lost coin, or lost son. We usually hear those parables as glimpses into the way God celebrates when one who was exiled from the community of faith returns to the fold, but maybe those stories are also an invitation for us to throw our own party when we recover something that was lost.

In our tradition, we inhabit a culture that promotes the opposite. Over the years of trusting and respecting that people can find their own way and their own truth, we have become very good at keeping our good news to ourselves. In a staff retreat this week, as we reflected on our particular gifts, we noted how unusual it is for Episcopalians to have the gift of “galvanizing.” Those with this gift are the ones who always seem to invite new people to come to church. They are the ones who have no trouble convincing friends to sign up to volunteer at a new organization. They are so excited about whatever project they are working on that they cannot help but inspire other people to join in.

When these “galvanizers” speak to us with an authenticity that grows from their own lived experience and not from their assumptions about our own, we find their invitation gracious, even compelling. When they approach us with an enthusiasm that is not genuine, we associate their sales pitch with a scam. If you call a close friend to tell them that you watched a movie or read a book that you loved and think that they will love, too, no one accuses you of selling snake oil—even if your friend ends up not enjoying the film or book as much as you. When your experience of something is overwhelmingly positive, sharing that good news with someone else is a gift, not a burden.

Sometimes people ask me why I enjoy talking about stewardship so much. Among some of my colleagues, there is an assumption that teaching and preaching about faithful giving is a way for clergy to fund their own salaries. Although all of my income derives from what you and I contribute to St. Paul’s, I do not feel any pressure to raise money from the church in order to make personal ends meet. I trust that my work will be valued appropriately regardless of how an annual giving campaign turns out.

Sometimes people think that clergy talk about stewardship because the church needs the money for one reason or another. Actually, St. Paul’s does not need your money and neither does God. We cannot do the programs and ministries we carry out in God’s name without your financial support, but I trust that, if all the money that were given to St. Paul’s went to another church or organization, God’s work would be carried out in other ways. I think our church’s particular contribution to this community—theologically, liturgically, pastorally, historically, culturally—is of incredible, irreplaceable value, and I do not think there is another group that can do this work as fully or beautifully as we do, but the point of faithful giving is not to raise money for a church but to invite its people into a closer relationship with God.

I love teaching and preaching about stewardship because I have experienced the transformative benefits of sacrificial, proportional, first-fruits giving in my own life. For the first half of my life, money was an obstacle to my participation in the kingdom of God. I worried about how much I had more than I cared about belonging to God. I focused on keeping enough for myself instead of celebrating how much I had to give. I put my trust in my own resources instead of embracing the promise of God’s limitless love. Then, everything changed.

After receiving an astonishingly generous gift from the parish that sent me to seminary, I began to take stewardship seriously. Instead of estimating how much I could afford to give to the church, I started with the presumption that I would give 10% to God and figure out how to live on the rest. And I did. Since then, our family has grown in the percentage of our income that we give to the church, and, despite moments of relative scarcity, money has never been a problem that interfered with our faith. Instead, our finances have become a way to deepen our confidence in God and increase our commitment to the work God is doing all around us.

I talk about stewardship because I want you to know the good thing that I have experienced firsthand. I want you to know what it feels like for all of your finances to become an opportunity to grow closer to God instead of being an obstacle to your full participation in God’s reign. There is a deep and abiding peace that comes through the spiritual practice of financial stewardship, and I want to share that good news with you.

As you consider what portion of your riches you will share with your church, look for ways to grow in your faith by growing closer to a tithe. Start with where you are—with whatever percentage of your income you are already giving away. Make your commitment to God’s work the first step in your budgeting process. Grow that percentage a little bit this year and commit to growing it more in the years ahead. Think of your gift as a spiritual opportunity, and pursue the peace and faith that come from faithful giving.

Yours Faithfully,

Evan