I will never forget the elation of calling my dad to let him know I had received the offer for my first job after seminary. It was my first full-time job and I couldn’t be more excited! I had been hired to be the first ever Assistant Director of the Stewardship Leaders Program at Luther Seminary. What an honor and privilege! With reverence, I shared how much money I would be making: $40,000. I honestly thought I was going to be rich! After making just $10 per hour as a student worker over the previous two years in seminary, this felt like wealth beyond my wildest dreams. My dad quickly reminded me that I would not receive the full $40,000. Some money would go towards taxes, Social Security, and Medicare. There would be money taken out for benefits. I might even choose to put some money towards retirement. But, I was determined to make sure none of these trivial realities killed my joy – I was hired to do something I loved!
In this job and the few that came after it, I entered the hiring process with a posture of “people pleasing”. I was determined to put my best foot forward, listen deeply to what the ministry was looking for, and graciously accept whatever I was offered. I assumed the ministry had my best interests at heart and would take good care of me. I didn’t want to look like a selfish “money grubber”. “The love of money is the root of all evil” (1 Timothy 6:10, KJV) after all. And yet, there were some sign posts along the way that this wasn’t the best approach.
I slid into my second job out of seminary. What started as a casual conversation about a new role quickly snowballed into a job offer. During that first casual conversation I had been asked for a salary number for this possible role. As I hadn’t done any research and I wasn’t seriously considering it, I threw out a number a little higher than what I was currently making ($45,000) and didn’t think much about it. Imagine my surprise weeks later when the job offer came and that was the number. In the intervening time, I had heard from mentors in my life that this role should really come with a higher salary. When I tried to negotiate, I was told I couldn’t. I was asked for a number and that was the number I was provided, I should be grateful for it. I was shocked. I thought we were talking casually. I didn’t realize my number was etched in stone.
However, it wasn’t until my third job out of seminary that the importance of the research and negotiation process really hit home for me. I had been searching for a job for quite a while and had been waiting to hear back on this particular job for a few months. When the offer finally came through, I quickly accepted because I was eager to start the new role as soon as possible and the salary was much higher than what I was currently making ($62,000). I started the role with joy – feeling a renewed sense of financial and vocational well-being. It wasn’t until my annual review two and a half years later that I learned I had been grossly underpaid in this role compared to my peers. I left the review both shocked and grateful: shocked that I had been underpaid for so long and didn’t know it and grateful that my new manager had the courage to be transparent with me and advocate for me and my salary. She had not only promoted me but had advocated for an equity raise that would continue each year until my salary was commensurate with my role and experience.
I realize that none of this may sound like ministry to you. You may even wonder why I might share such a story on the Faith+Lead platform. What does compensation negotiation have to do with faith or leadership? But, I’m convinced that in order “to thrive in ministry in the 21st century” ministry leaders and leaders in faith communities need to know how to negotiate. I’m not asking you to role play an episode of “Shark Tank” with polished presentations and fast-paced deal making. Instead, I’m curious if we might find a posture of negotiation that reflects the intention, energy, and care that we put into our ministry roles every day. One that reflects our shared values of justice, equity, love, and transparency as well as a commitment to the well-being of all of God’s creation – including our very selves. When lived out this way, negotiation can become a win for the congregation, for the leader, as well as the leader who next inhabits the role.
One of my first realizations after the jarring annual review was that I had done a disservice to anyone who inhabited this role after me. This role was newly created with me in mind. Had I left this role prior to this review, the next person coming in would have faced an uphill climb in their negotiation just to bring the salary up to parity with the others on the team and this is before they even had a chance to consider any unique experience and education they might be bring to the role that I didn’t have. In other words, I would have left my successor with a big mess to clean up, one that would likely have a deep impact on their personal well-being and ability to invest in the ministry.
However, I’ve also come to realize the deep impact that negotiation can have on me and my ministry. When done well, it can feel more like a collaboration and less like a conflict. It helps each party to get truly honest both with themselves and with others about the things they care most about, what will allow them to thrive, and what they each bring to the table. It brings to mind the “miracle of sharing” interpretation of the feeding of the 5,000 story. Instead of fighting over “whose responsibility it was” to feed the people, those in the crowd opened up their knapsacks to see what they could contribute and Jesus multiplied these meager offerings into more than enough. Examining your own knapsack and sharing its contents with others requires immense courage and vulnerability, but this story reminds us that God meets us in the midst of this vulnerability making “a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” (Isaiah 43:19)
This isn’t to sugar coat the process. Sometimes that “way” means saying “no” so both parties can find another path forward. Trusting God’s guidance and provision doesn’t mean that every door will magically open, but it is a reminder that the Spirit is at work – even at the negotiation table. This is why I’m so eager to share with you a new Faith+Lead mini courses available for free to anyone: Financial Wellness for Church Leaders: Compensation Negotiation.
You don’t have to do this work alone. You don’t have to learn how to negotiate the hard way. Whether you, like me, fall into a pattern of “people pleasing”, you’re a ministry leader looking to better understand the pieces of your compensation you can negotiate, or you’re a leader in a faith community hoping to better understand what may be going on on the other side of the negotiation table, these courses are for you! We hope they foster a spirit of collaboration, transparency, and equity not only in the call process, but every time ministry compensation is discussed.
Over the last six years, I’ve had the privilege of coaching countless seminary graduates through the negotiation process for their first ministry roles. It’s a joy to sit on the sidelines as the process unfolds with all of its twists and turns. I’ve come to realize that compensation negotiation is one of the first and most powerful moves that these graduates can make in their stewardship ministry. It sets the tone for their leadership, illustrates their confidence in discussing money matters, but more than anything it serves as a reminder to them and any congregation leaders at the table that stewardship isn’t just something we do for others, it begins with us. When we care for ourselves and our families, we honor ourselves as God’s creation, and free ourselves to live deeply into God’s call for us and the ministries we are called to serve.
