I never thought that it would be easier to talk about sex in the church than it would be to talk about money. After all, Jesus had a lot more to say about our relationship with money and possessions than he did about sex, so it would seem like a natural topic for the church. But when I moved into the stewardship portfolio after years of working on the Presbyterian Church in Canada’s Towards a World Without AIDS campaign, I discovered that people are more uncomfortable talking about money. What I learned working on the AIDS campaign prepared me for work in stewardship.
A steward is someone who manages resources on behalf of another; and although it’s getting a bit of a rebirth in the secular world — both in the environmental movement and non-profit and corporate boardrooms — it is still little understood.
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According to the Vanier Institute of the Family, in the past decade the debt per household for Canadian families has advanced by 45 per cent, with a debt to income ratio currently at 145 per cent. At the same time, there has been a steady decline in the savings rate in the past two decades.
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The biblical concept of stewardship is rooted in the belief that we are to manage the resources God has given us — time, talent and treasure — in ways that reflect God’s purpose. In the church, there has traditionally been an emphasis on tithes and offerings. However, just as the issues surrounding HIV and AIDS are complex, varied and diverse, with a quagmire of causes and effects, stewardship is about more than encouraging people to put money on the offering plate; it is also about how we use all of our resources, and what values that use reflects.
Discovering the challenges. Much of what Jesus taught about our relationship with money and possessions was, and still is, countercultural to the messages we hear in society. Contrast the words of Christ about the birds of the air and the lilies of the field in Matthew 6:26-33, with the constant messages we hear that we need to buy more, newer, better. Consumer culture impacts our spiritual life, as peer pressure and advertising drive our decisions around consumption.
It is easy to think, “I don’t have enough to give, I will give later.” The brilliance of the principle of the tithe — giving a proportion of your income to God first, before all else — is it shows that every person is capable of sharing, according to their means. But how and why we give is rarely talked about in our churches, let alone our society. Unfortunately, too many churches, particularly churches in financial crises, tend to focus energy and dialogue on the church’s need to receive, rather than the spiritual benefits of giving or the social and spiritual implications of consumerism.
Bucking the trends. When I visited congregations to talk about the AIDS campaign, I thought people would be squirming in their seats as we talked about sex. I was often surprised that people wanted to talk about it and that talking about it made the church relevant. Embracing the prophetic voice that cries for alternatives in our consumer-driven society and helps us rediscover a culture of generosity can be another way for the church to be relevant today.
In the AIDS campaign, people discovered that giving was one way to respond to a horrific epidemic. Called to give, compelled to give, people found many different ways to be part of the campaign. People gave money as they were able — from a few loonies to donating stock worth hundreds of thousands. Some shared what they learned, raising awareness about the issue. Others gave time to work with people affected and advocated for change. Some organized walks, concerts, art shows and talks. It not only made a difference in the lives of the people who received, it made a difference in the lives of the people who gave.
In Malawi, I was taken to the home of a woman being cared for by home-based care workers supported by the AIDS campaign. Two of her children watched from a distance as we bent down to enter the low-slung door of her house. Her eldest daughter propped her up against a wall. She didn’t have much strength to talk, but she wanted to thank us for supporting the volunteers who brought her medicine, cut her firewood, helped her with the children. These volunteers didn’t have much themselves — but they shared what they had even if it meant they all went a little hungry at times. They were stewards of God’s gifts.
