Church Stewardship: Money and Time

Many of my pastor friends have been sharing ideas to talk about stewardship to congregations. Most feel it is a necessary evil because congregations have financial needs, but many are uncomfortable directly asking for money. Since there are always new members, education about where money is spent on ministries is an important topic. The Episcopal Church, for example, published 10 Common Mistakes in Fundraising for Congregations earlier this month. Many churches have commitment cards so members can pledge an amount for a general fund or a building project or a special ministry.


Talking of stewardship makes me think of some examples from my own experience. I remember my sister-in-law telling me of the day in her early teens when she realized that there was value in her church attendance, and that value needed to be funded. She came from a non-church, non-Christian, non-American background; but the community she found in her church was worth giving a weekly offering.

Growing up, I knew the widows in my rural church set aside their tithe the very first thing when they got their small Social Security checks. It would be in their purses inside the little giving envelopes, and they would let one of their children know that if they happened to die before Sunday, that envelope needed to make it to church.

I remember special days at my rural Baptist church when a banknote would be burned the Sunday after it had been paid off. It was the symbol of weeks and weeks of giving so that the work of the church could continue or be expanded.

So many stewardship sermons: all about money. Memorial gifts that bought new sound systems or pulpit furniture. Special denomination representatives that came to preach and tell of how a building fund was going to work and be good for our church.

It is expensive to maintain buildings. When a congregation falls below a certain threshold, it sometimes becomes imperative that everyone give. But not everyone will. Difficult decisions have to be made about budgets and staff and all the minutiae of ministry and materials and special events.

I think it is similar to running a business in many ways though churches usually leave room for faith to fit in somewhere. Yet how many pastors have business experience? Seminaries may need to offer courses in finances, but I've never heard of one doing so.

So stewardship has always been a talk about money. But one time in my life, I heard a different message. And it stuck.

When I was in my early teen years, I heard a pastor talk about time. Specifically, tithing time. Which seems quite impossible since an actual tithe of time would be over 2 hours a day--difficult to do unless you are in ministry as a vocation.

In the business world, there is a saying that time is money. Time given to a ministry, to volunteer with a church group, is valuable. It is often overlooked--especially by the articles written on stewardship and the sermons preached about pledges and by the governing councils in a church who see value only in how much someone gives (and therefore controls the church).

So in my mind, I'd like to see someone take up the issue of how time can be of value to the church. I'd like young struggling couples be able to see their volunteering in a church as a way to tithe. I'd like to see us realize that time is given by God just like we are told our money is given by God. (So those hours on Facebook should be scrutinized.)

Yes, money will help ministries to flourish. But I think the pledge cards need to include a section about volunteering. It is a matter of the congregation realizing that they are the hands of Jesus and not just the pocketbook.

Calypso's Island

Every night for the longest time I have read aloud to one or more of my sons. These days I read a chapter a night to my youngest, my nine year old. We have read the Chronicles of Narnia and all of Harry Potter aloud. We are currently on book four (The Battle of the Labyrinth) of the five book Percy Jackson series by Rick Riordan.

Tonight I read the chapter called, "I Take a Permanent Vacation." It is my favorite chapter of the entire series. In it, Percy Jackson, a half-blood (mother is human, father is Poseidon) has been blasted from the earth by Mt. Saint Helens and is marooned on Calypso's Island. Calypso helps him heal from his wounds and get his strength back. But Calypso's curse is that any mortal that comes to her island will always leave her, and she will always be heartbroken after falling in love with him.

So, yes, Percy does leave the island at the end of the chapter. Percy always helps his friends, and he has to get back to the ones that think him dead, so they can stop a Titan uprising. But as he sails away from the island, Percy realizes that it is the beginning of his what if? Percy could have stayed and been happy on the island. The life-threatening prophecy would have been about someone else. He would have fallen in love with Calypso, become immortal, had no worries or cares in the world.

My nine year old doesn't understand the concept of a what if? decision. It is something that comes as you get older. That road less traveled that Robert Frost wrote about. The "Turn Left" episode of Doctor Who. Our lives are filled with small what ifs and occasionally we get a life-changing what if.  Those big ones can ruin us if we always look back and forget to move forward.

So the chapter really does make me sad. I remember the times in my life where things could have changed in a drastic way. And I let the bittersweet thoughts consume me sometimes. And I refuse to answer my nine year old because my what if decisions could have erased him from my life. Yet here I am. Sitting on the floor, with my son in my lap, reading a chapter he will have to grow to understand.

I will not dwell on the what ifs. I have the what is right in front of me.