Allow me to let you in on a little secret: Asking for money makes me feel uncomfortable. I’ve been serving in congregational stewardship ministry in some capacity for over a decade and have been fundraising on behalf of my college as a volunteer for almost the same amount of time and it STILL makes me uncomfortable. It wasn’t until a few years ago when I watched this TED Talk entitled “3 Ways to Be a More Effective Fundraiser” by Kara Logan Berlin that I realized what the root of my problem was: I have baggage about wealth and money that I’m bringing into my fundraising conversations. I’m making it about me and not about the mission.
As a financial educator, I thought I had sifted through all of my baggage related to money and wealth. Having conversations about money with people is one of the primary things that gets me out of bed in the morning. I love talking about money! I’ve spent time sifting through my money stories and analyzing my money scripts. And yet, there was still more to uncover.
A few years ago, I remember sitting down to write a fundraising email to one of my friends from college and I could feel myself visibly cringing. Instead of offering this friend an opportunity to give to a cause I cared about, I felt like I was begging for money for myself as a personal favor. It felt gross, even manipulative. Suddenly the email became about my need for money, not the impact of St. Olaf College’s mission. Even though none of the money given would be going to me, I still felt guilty asking for it.
At that moment, I began to think about the mission of St. Olaf College and how much my time there meant to me. St. Olaf not only gave me an exceptional liberal arts education; it shaped me into the person I am today, set me on a path toward seminary, and equipped me with life-long relationships. I thought about the students currently at St. Olaf and all of the new students yet to come and realized the magnified impact St. Olaf could have because of the gift I was asking for. As Kara Logan Berlin says in the TED Talk, I wasn’t begging for money for personal gain, I was giving these fellow alumni “an opportunity” to connect with this mission. It wasn’t about me, it was about the mission.
I know I’m not alone in carrying baggage around asking for money. This baggage can be even more amplified for solo pastors whose salary and benefits make up the majority of their congregational budget. How do you begin to ask for money when you know the bulk of the money being asked for is going into your paycheck? Unlike my St. Olaf College example, this money is, in some sense, going back into your pocket. How do you learn how to separate out this feeling about wealth and money from your feelings about raising money for a cause you care deeply about: the mission of your church?
I ran into a similar situation at my congregation in Minneapolis, Tree of Life Lutheran (Tree), as I was working with my pastor around stewardship and fundraising. If you’re in a situation like this, I invite you to ask yourself these questions:
- What is the mission of your church? What has God called this church to do and to be? Be specific. This isn’t just about the mission of the church in general, what specific role does your congregation have to play? We recently spent some time working on Tree’s mission. We discerned: “Tree’s mission is to cultivate a faith community for people who have loved a church that has not always loved them back, to celebrate and create contemplative liturgy within the broader Christian community, and to wrestle with how to love God and serve our neighbors daily.”
- What role do you play in this mission? The reason the church’s budget is mostly made up of the pastor’s salary and benefits is because the pastor is a key player in making that mission come to life. I see our pastor like the orchestra conductor bringing out the unique gifts of each of us in the congregation to help us live out this mission together. With her direction, we can not only play together harmoniously but also create something bigger and more beautiful than anything we could do on our own. As an example, she is the one who cultivated community during the pandemic by organizing small accountability groups that met weekly for fellowship and prayer. She developed the format, trained leaders to convene the groups, and set us loose to cultivate community in new ways. For so many of us, these groups were the most meaningful connection points we had each week during the pandemic. If she were to think of herself as just a number in the budget, she would be missing out on all of the gifts she brings to the congregation that amplifies the mission we seek to live out together.
- What does this mission look like? Last, I encourage you to take a moment to picture that mission. Use your five senses: What does it look, feel, sound, smell, and even taste like? Bringing these images to mind before asking for money can re-ground you in the fact that this ask for money isn’t about you, it’s about the congregation. One story I love to tell about Tree of Life is the liturgy we wrote together as a community: Brightness and Shadows. It was a deeply communal effort: some wrote prayers, some made art, some listened to the early stages of the liturgy and contributed their feedback, some composed new music, and more. In order to produce the work, we needed money to pay the musicians, professionally record and license the liturgy, to rent space and feed people at the premiere. Picturing this key moment of living into the mission (and even replaying some of the music in my head) reminds me of what this mission is all about!
- What’s at stake? Last, I encourage you to take some time to consider what mission work might not be done if the funding doesn’t come in. While it’s understandable to fear how your benefits and paycheck might be impacted, I encourage you to think more broadly about how that might impact the community. If Tree didn’t bring in enough money to fund our budget, it would be very tough since our church budget is already very lean. It would likely mean that we couldn’t rent out our space for worship or adequately pay our musicians—both important values of our congregation. Just as important, I also encourage you to think about the flipside: If you bring in more funding than expected, what ministry might that money enable? What dreams that God has for the congregation might become a reality? We’ve often dreamed of being able to commission our musicians to write additional music for the broader church and be able to host a block party to celebrate—our community would be so excited to see this dream become a reality.
As many congregational leaders head into a season of asking for money so you can live deeply into the mission God is calling your congregation into, I want to remind you that if you have baggage around asking for money, you are not alone. Instead of shying away from asking for money during this season, I invite you to take a few moments to examine your baggage when the feelings of fear and insecurity arise: What’s behind this feeling that I might need to tend to? And, take a moment to re-focus on the mission. By not asking for money, you are cheating your congregation out of the opportunity to join in God’s mission in a deeper and more meaningful way.
