Money Autobiography, Part Two

More than two years ago, I wrote a blog post on my personal money autobiography, including the challenges of growing up poor and my abysmally low giving patterns while struggling with college and seminary debt. A colleague recently asked how I’m doing and how I’ve grown in both my attitude toward money and personal stewardship. Good question! Thus, this post: money autobiography, part two.

Serving on the synod stewardship team in my role as director for evangelical mission has transformed my attitudes and personal practices around money. I’ve been exposed to resources, Bible studies, books and conversations with others that have shaped my own giving patterns these past three years. There are so many faithful stewards in our synod who have great personal stories of how being more generous has transformed their lives. (PS- If you know someone like this, you should have them share their faith story in worship!)

As for me, one of the first things I did was set up automated giving. I had never done this before; I was too scared of the commitment. I set this up through my employer- the churchwide offices of the ELCA- and a portion each paycheck goes to ELCA World Hunger, ELCA Domestic Disaster and the Malaria Campaign. At the end of each year it’s rewarding to see how much I’ve given and know it makes a difference.

Like many others, I have a running list of non-profit organizations and ministries that our family supports each year. In December, I check to make sure I haven’t missed any before the calendar year is over. We’ve increased our giving to many of these over the years and simplified some of them by using Pick.Click.Give through Alaska’s Permanent Fund Dividend.

I also did the stuff Suze Orman tells you to do: made a plan to pay down credit card debt, pay more on student loans and put bills on automated giving. These things eased the money fears that kept me from an attitude of generosity in the first place.

The short answer is yes, I’ve increased my financial giving, in part by simply paying more attention to it. I’m tithing on my salary and my husband and I have increased our percentage giving from our joint account (we have some money separate and some together). We’re starting to explain to our toddler son about how we give money to give thanks and help others and he puts quarters in the offering plate alongside our checks.

These practices are all well and good – and are still a work in progress- but as I write chapter two of my money autobiography, I find that my attitude change toward financial giving is more important than my shift in habits.

Which comes first, a change in attitude or a change in habit? There’s a saying that it’s easier to act your way into a new way of thinking, rather than think your way into a new way of acting. This was true for me. I starting acting differently and the habits began working on my attitude. Or perhaps more correctly, I started acting differently and God started working on my attitude!

This is why spiritual practices are so important (which we’re going to talk more about as the Alaska Synod this year). Spiritual practices are the core things we do as followers of Jesus: we pray, we read the Bible, we worship, we spend time with other disciples of Jesus, we share our gifts with others, to name a few. These habits, over a life time, work on us. It’s not about getting saved (we’re Lutherans; we know God has saved us by grace). Rather, these spiritual practices form us into the people we are called to be, for the sake of ourselves and the world.

The biggest truth of this chapter in my money autobiography is that I don’t feel so fearful about money anymore. I used to feel afraid of talking about money at all, ignored bills (which led to fees) and wrote checks for student loans without looking at the total amount still left (too scary). I was constantly afraid of not having enough, even when my husband and I were DINKs (double-income-no-kids).  As it turns out, we now have one child, one on the way, a sizeable mortgage and my husband (the main breadwinner) works in oil and gas industry, which is not very stable just now.  I should be more afraid about money these days, I suppose. But the grace of God through spiritual practices has been working on me, and most days I’m not afraid. I even go to congregations – as part of my work- and, after I thank them for giving, I encourage them to give more. Can I tell you a secret? I actually enjoy talking about money now, because it’s freeing to give and encourage others to do the same. We can make such a difference through our collective giving. It’s inspiring. For this, I thank God.

 

 

 

 

 

Ministry lessons from Newark: On making lasting change

Well-meaning people wanting to make lasting change don't always do it. We want our congregations to have a meaningful impact in other people's lives, particularly those Jesus asks us to care for: the least, the lost, the left-out. Turns out, there are good ways and not-so-good ways to do this.

Last week, NPR's Terry Gross did an interview on Fresh Air with Dale Russakoff, who wrote a book about efforts to revitalize Newark's troubled school system. The interview was about education but had powerful insight about attempts to create change in general. The ministry implications were simply glaring at me. The lesson from New Jersey is that good intentions to better the lives of others are not enough to make that happen.

Here's what happened: Newark's mayor Cory Booker, New Jersey governor Chris Christie and Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg devised a plan to help Newark's failing schools. It seemed like a winning combination of political power and financial capital - Zuckerberg had pledged $100 million to the cause. But the problems started from the beginning, Russakoff reported. Booker and Zuckerberg went on Oprah to announce the $100 million gift and its intended purpose to renew the schools. The problem was that students, families, teachers and school employees didn't know about the plan for renewal. They had to learn about it on TV. According to Russakoff, this didn't play well in Newark. Many skilled and experienced teachers had good ideas about renewal, but they weren't invited in at the beginning for their input.

The next problem was about oversight of the initiative. Booker took the Zuckerberg money and created a foundation to handle the use of Zuckerberg's gift and matching donations. But to get a seat on the foundation, you had to donate $10 million or more (though it was later dropped to $5 million). This alienated educators and other stake-holders who wanted to have a say in how the money was spent to help their children. It became a top-down reform movement, where decisions were made by a few wealthy donors.

This was all I heard of the interview, but it goes on with other fine examples. See the church parallels? It reminded me of a trip I took to Honduras in 1999 with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). We went at the invitation of the Honduran Lutheran church help rebuild after Hurricane Mitch, and to write about the experience for various publications. Our guide took us on a tour of the area. In the next village over from where we stayed, we saw skeletons of half-built homes made from wood. Why were they half-built, we asked? He told us that a church group from somewhere else in the US had come and built these homes because they thought the locals would like them. Turns out, the local folk wanted cinder block houses, so they never finished those skeletons. So we helped them make cinder block houses, since that's what they wanted and that's what worked best in their area.

Obviously, the Lutheran church (or any church) has not always gotten in right when we go somewhere to help those in need. We don't even always get it right when we try to help neighbors in our own city or village. It's tempting to be so excited to help that we rush right into service without building relationships or identifying real needs.

You might have heard someone (me?) talk about being missional church. The spellcheck function on my computer says it's not a word but if you Google it, you'll find it everywhere. It generally means that we do church the really old-fashioned way: focusing on bringing the Good News of Jesus (in word and deed) out to the places where others are, rather than hoping they will come to us. It's what Jesus did in his ministry of healing, teaching and sharing meals.

When we do church this way, the missional way, we do often end up serving the neighbor, but we do it in a context of relationship. We work along side others, we hear their stories, we perhaps share something of ours. So much of this work is about simply listening and being present in our communities and watching to see where God is already at work. Maybe the leaders of the school reform in Newark didn't get the message, but as disciples of Christ, we can find better ways to make a difference - in the name of Christ.

The Opposite of Spoiled (book review and related thoughts)

How do we raise kids who are grounded, generous and smart about money? That's the subtitle, slightly re-worded, of Ron Lieber's book The Opposite of Spoiled, which I mentioned in a previous blog post about kids and money. I decided if I was going to recommend a book, I ought to go ahead and read it. So I did.

Lieber, a personal finance columnist for The New York Times, draws on best practices from families as well as research from experts in finance, child psychology and education in this quick-read book. He covers three main money areas -- save, spend, give -- with practical ideas on everything from how to handle the tooth fairy to allowance to cell phones. Lieber also encourages parents to explore their own values around generosity, thrift and patience - and talk to their kids about it.

Here's what's great about this book: there are lots of practical tips. One of my favorite sections explores how to talk with kids about the tough money questions they'll eventually ask, such as: Are we rich? Are we poor? Why can't I have it if I use my own money? How much money do you make? Lieber doesn't preach, he encourages parents to think about the questions behind the question and invites parents into dialogue with their kids. Another section I enjoyed was the part about allowance. Should an allowance be tied to chores? Lieber (and other experts he interviews) says no. Chores should be an expected part of being a member of the family and there are other privileges that could be denied if they are not completed. Children should be given an allowance (if the parents choose to do so) to learn to manage money. They should be encouraged to set aside a portion to give and to save and limits may be set on the "spend" portion. Lieber argues that money management - like most life skills - takes practice and this is a way to do it.

I also like Lieber's focus on talking about values. In the section on giving, he shares examples of families who bring older children into the discussion and allocation of the family's designated giving dollars. Kids can research charities and causes, offering input about where they think the money will do the most good. Lieber says this, too, is good life practice. There's even a great example of a school that started a small foundation - run by kids - to give money to charity. Lieber urges parents to talk to kids about values like patience (saving up for something you want) and gratitude (practicing family rituals). Many of Lieber's ideas, or even a book study group for parents, would be great to incorporate into children's education programs in a congregation. If your congregation does a fall stewardship event, include children with tips from the book or other suggested activities.

If I have a critique of Lieber's book, it's that it's written for a middle class audience, perhaps even upper middle class. Lieber assumes (and he says this) that people reading this book make at least $50,000 per year and have some angst about spoiling their kids. His audience is, generally, people who are better off than their parents. That's not the case for many Americans who wonder if they'll have enough for food, rent or medicine at month's end. Perhaps some people do not want to read about parents who struggle with the "won't buy" for their kids rather than "can't."

Whether you read the book or not, having the conversation is key. Lieber does very well the thing we as the Alaska Synod stewardship team have been saying for awhile - talk about money! In our Ventures for Steward Leader program, we've found that bringing up the topic of money in a way that encourages dialogue and connects money to our faith is a breath of fresh air for many congregations. Talking about money is a gift that keeps on giving (pun intended). Want to know more about the Ventures program? Email me at alaskadem@gmail.com for more information. A 2016 cohort is forming soon!

There goes the neighborhood!

This is where I live. It's my neighborhood. People are friendly, it's right by Kincaid Park (and Tastee Freeze) and there are good nearby schools for our son. We love it, though we're still trying to get more connected after two years here.

What does neighborhood mean in an era of digital connection? Do you know your neighbors? Are you involved in your community? And what, if anything, does your neighborhood have to do with your faith?

Alan Roxburgh's insightful book, "Missional: Joining God in the Neighborhood" explores how neighborhoods are the places we find God at work and get a glimpse of our call as people of God. Roxburgh, a longtime consultant on the church in mission, argues that churches ask the wrong question when they ask how the church can connect with culture, how the church can find a purpose and mission. Asking "church questions" misdirect us, Roxburgh says. "We need to be asking radically different questions: What is God up to in our neighborhoods and communities? How do we join with what God is doing in these places?"

His advice is solid, if hard to do. As people of the Triune God, we know that God isn't static - God's Spirit is out ahead of us - moving, stirring, forming, changing and challenging. Roxburgh invites readers to use the story of Jesus sending out the 70 apostles in Luke 10:1-12 as a metaphor for what the church could be. This story reminds us that the 70 went out to proclaim the Gospel, but they went with very little baggage, spent time with people and accepted the hospitality the offered. This is the incarnational work of spending time in neighborhoods and communities among people who may or may not believe in God or go to worship. Through work and conversation together, Roxburgh says, we learn to see what God is doing in these places and the church starts from there.

I'd recommend this book, though it bogged down some in the middle with theological talk. The best part is the latter half, where Roxburgh deeply explores Luke 10 and how we could bring the lessons therein into our churches and neighborhoods. He ends the book with a few concrete ideas, though warns that this process of being church in this new way is more of a journey rather than a program. The goal is not to evangelize people up front but to get to know them, build relationships and then see where God takes you.

Here are a few ideas I liked:

* Study Luke 10:1-12 together over a period of time. Ask how God is inviting you to live it.
* Walk through your neighborhood (church's or your own) with others. Notice who you meet, where people gather, what's going on.
* Notice where people gather and talk about how to connect with them.
* Listen to stories of people in the neighborhood (1-1 style)
* Host a neighborhood event, like a BBQ
* Get involved in something going on in the neighborhood.
* Meet together to reflect on what you learned from all of the above.

This way of church as engaging in neighborhoods has really intrigued me. Perhaps it's because I grew up in a place where we knew our neighbors and depended upon each other. Roxburgh suggests that in a time where we're more digitally connected (yet still thirsting for authentic relationships) the idea of "going local" in our neighborhood is both radical and balm.

I keep thinking about how to do this in small ways in my own little Sand Lake neighborhood. Are you interested? Want to try it? Give me a shout - let's talk more.

Kids, money and the scrabble for the plate

A young consumer in the making?

There was a good deal of scrambling and squabbling in the third pew from the back, pulpit side, during offering time at St. John Lutheran Church, Frederika, Iowa, in the 1980s and 1990s. That's where my family sat in the church were I grew up in rural Northeast Iowa and the struggle was between us three kids and we grabbed at mom's purse as the offering plate came near.

This is my first memory of stewardship: grabbing at my mom's purse, digging for coins (the more quarters the better) and trying to get more than my siblings to put into the plate as it went by. What's yours?

It's funny (and interesting) to think back on that now, as a pastor, mom and stewardship resource person in my synod.

It's great that my siblings and I knew that offering was important. Along with the fight for coins, we also saw my mom quietly slip a check in the plate each week. She never said much about it, but we knew it was important and we wanted to do our part.

I wonder now about what it means to teach my own son (pictured above) about giving. How can I help him learn the joys of giving, not just my money but his own, too? How can I teach him that everything that he has belongs to God? How can I create in him a sense of deep faith and gratitude? How can I help him resist the pressures of advertising and consumerism? My son isn't quite two years old; I'm only just beginning. I have a few ideas, but would love to hear your thoughts!

Model generosity of all types and do it together:
My mom was great about making a casserole (hot dish, as we called it) for someone in need and going to visit widows and shut-ins. She took us along and told us why it was important. Often we helped prep the meal. This could be done in other ways too, such as shopping for kids in need, with your kids. The ELCA Good Gifts catalog is a great way to do this. Let kids weigh in on what they'd like to give.

Teach about spending, saving and giving:
Provide a way for kids to separate out their own money. Consider the 10-10-80 model (save, give, spend). You can search online for ideas how to do this, or check out the book, "The Opposite of Spoiled," by Ron Lieber, about raising generous kids.

Recycle together
This is an easy way to teach good stewardship of resources. Or, instead of recycling, urge kids to get creative about new uses for old things. Explain why recycling and reusing connects to our faith.

Say thank you
Lead kids in "thank you" prayers at night and other times, too. Talk about what you are thankful for as a family. Teach kids to write thank you notes, or at least email or text words of thanks and appreciation to others. Model doing this as parents, too.

What else?
What do you do?

Where to start? The Archbishop speaks.

Occasionally, religious-leader-big-wig types get together and talk about how things are going, encourage each other and pray for one another. Okay, I actually don't know what bishops and archbishops and cardinals talk about when they get together, other than what's reported out. Though part of me thinks they talk about theologically deep and complex matters (they probably do), another part of my (the real-person-part) thinks maybe they just talk about the highs and lows of living the spiritual life. That's what I like to do with my clergy pals.

I thought of this when a report came out on the ELCA news service a couple of months ago about ELCA Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton's February visit to church dignitaries in London, Geneva and Rome. These visits do the important work of building up the ecumenical body of Christ, but, frankly, reading about them is usually pretty dry.

Which is why it surprised me when a couple of lines about Bishop Eaton's conversation with the Archbishop of Canterbury caught my eye and resonated in my heart.

The Archbishop of Canterbury is the leader of the Anglican Church in England, and that's about all I know about him. But Bishop Eaton must have known more, for she asked him to recommend a spiritual practice for ELCA member to grown in their lives of faith. What would you expect a leader of a global church to say? Prayer? Frequent worship attendance? Bible study? Acts of service and mercy?

Instead, he said this, "Start where people are, not where you think they should be."

Huh. Start with where people are, not where you think they should be. I thought about all the times in my own life of faith where I have thought, "Gosh I really need to be reading through the whole Bible," or "I should be spending a longer time in prayer." Those things might be true, but they may not be where I am. They may not be where you are.

I don't know exactly what the Archbishop meant, but I'm guessing it means something like this. Pay attention to your energy, your dreams and your heart. Listen for where the Spirit of God is really nudging you - maybe it's the feeling that you need to reach out to a certain friend or the sense that a particular book/podcast/event is calling your name  - whether it's explicitly "religious" or not.

For me, starting where we are means identifying the ways that God shows up and works in every part of our lives. It's about finding and living out God's calling everywhere, anywhere.

The Archbishop's words are also missional in the very best way. Maybe the people we know and love (or don't know) should be in church on Sunday but they aren't (especially during an Alaskan summer). What should we do? Start with where they are. You get to discern what this means in your setting. You get to discern what this means in your own journey of faith.

Dillingham - Mission at work on Bristol Bay

Dillingham Trinity Lutheran Church

This is a photo of Dillingham Trinity Lutheran Church, but this was not my first view or impression of the place. My first view was darker, but better. Let me explain.

I came to Dillingham at the request of the pastor and congregation, to assist them in mission planning and future visioning. I was excited - I had heard good things about this 27-year-old congregation on the edge of Bristol Bay, but I had visited neither congregation nor the town.

I arrived on a Saturday night, well past sunset, but just in time for the Dillingham Arts Council's semi-annual coffee house. This event is hosted in the church building, just one of the ways the congregation supports community events.

Because of my flight time, I walked in just after the event had begun. It was pitch dark; the ticket-taker used a flashlight to take our admission fee. It was packed. People were crammed around little tables with red-and-white-checkered table cloths. Many stood along all sides of the room. There were at least 100 people. A table full of goodies was in back, with an unmanned cash box that said, "for the high school band." A man up front crooned with his guitar while the audience was transfixed. As we moved through the evening with the energetic help of the young, long-haired MC, I noticed the audience as much as the performers. I realized that every person in that room knew everyone up on the stage and were there to support, encourage and cheer. They paid complete attention to every poet, musician and horn-player. People hooted before the acts began, then clapped and yelled enthusiastically after every one, no matter if the performer was excellent or a beginner. It was small town at its best. And the church was a huge part of it - creating a space for authentic community, exploration of life's big questions and a place to feel at home.

Well, even though this was great fun, I had work to do, and that did happen on Sunday morning. I enjoyed worshiping with the people of Dillingham Trinity and Pastor Luisa, who is retired. I enjoyed the playful spirit of folks at worship and after. (Did you know that bubbles blown in very cold temperatures get heavy and just sit there - and some freeze?)

Pastor Luisa and me

A playful time after worship

Bristol Bay

After worship, we shared a delicious lunch, consisting of traditional potluck fare, with an emphasis on salmon dishes (it's local, after all). When the meal had ended, the annual meeting began, and I led the congregation through some missional reflection time on their future. There were great ideas shared and positive energy as they consider where God is calling the congregation. After the meeting, my host, Marilyn, drove me around to see Dillingham's sites, including the drive to Lake Aleknagik and great views of Bristol Bay, which is Alaska's "salmon basket."

A mural in Dillingham

As I sat on the plane heading back to Anchorage Sunday night, I thought again about the dark church building that hosted the coffee house and the sunny, light church building that held worship the next day. Some who were there at night probably would never come during the day. But it was the same place, providing many of the same needs for community, hospitality, meaning and expression. I thought about how it all belongs to God, and how God is using it all for God's purpose - to ends which we cannot yet imagine, nor see.