Parish Examen Series (24): Generosity Is a Spiritual Practice
# # #
The previous post asked whether the parish understands itself as sent, with a missionary identity that extends beyond its own campus and its own membership.
This post begins the fifth and final movement of the Examen's structure.
Stewardship. And it begins with the dimension of stewardship that most parish leaders find most uncomfortable to discuss and most consequential to neglect.
Money.
The discomfort is worth naming at the outset, because it shapes everything that follows. Most parish leaders would rather talk about almost anything else. Evangelization, formation, leadership, facilities: all of these feel more directly connected to the mission than talking about the collection. But the parish that never talks about money honestly, that treats the offertory as an obligation to be mentioned and a budget to be managed, has already made a theological mistake before the conversation begins.
Stewardship isn't a fundraising strategy. It's a dimension of discipleship. The person who learns to give generously is being formed by that practice as surely as the person who learns to pray, to fast, or to serve. A parish that doesn't form its people in the theology and practice of giving is leaving one of the most important dimensions of Christian formation unaddressed, and training its parishioners, by silence, that money is outside the scope of the Gospel.
It isn't. Jesus talked about it more than almost anything else. The parish that follows his lead isn't being presumptuous. It's being faithful.
# # #
Here's the necessary outcome for this discipline: parishioners embrace stewardship as a way of life, generously contributing their time, talent, and treasure to the parish and the broader Church, thus ensuring the parish's financial health and its ability to carry out its mission.
Two phrases deserve attention before moving on.
Way of life. Not an annual appeal. Not a pledge card. Not a response to a financial crisis or a capital campaign. Stewardship as a way of life is a fundamentally different frame from stewardship as a fundraising technique, and the difference isn't semantic. It assumes that generosity is a spiritual practice, something that forms the person who practices it in the same way that prayer and fasting and service form the person who practices them. A parish that teaches stewardship as a way of life is forming disciples. A parish that treats stewardship as an annual campaign is managing a budget. Both may produce some revenue. Only one produces the thing the mission actually requires.
Time, talent, and treasure. All three, not only the financial dimension. The vision is holistic: parishioners who give financially, who invest their gifts and abilities in the parish's mission, and who offer their time in service of the community and the world. These three dimensions of stewardship are inseparable, because they reflect the inseparability of the whole person's response to grace. A parish that only asks for money and never invites people into the full range of stewardship has reduced a theological virtue to a transaction, and the people it's asking have been invited to give less of themselves than the Gospel is calling them to offer.
# # #
Four signs of health deserve development, because together they describe a stewardship culture rather than a stewardship program.
The first is a genuine, year-round strategy for forming parishioners in the theology and practice of stewardship. Not a stewardship weekend in October. Not a letter from the pastor when the budget is tight. A formation strategy that teaches the spiritual significance of giving throughout the year, that connects generosity to discipleship and to encounter with Christ, and that helps parishioners understand why giving is a response to grace rather than an obligation to meet. This formation should be ongoing rather than episodic, and the reason is important: stewardship formation that only happens during the annual appeal teaches parishioners that stewardship is about the parish's financial needs. That lesson is the wrong one. It frames giving as institutional support rather than personal transformation, and it produces giving that is responsive to need rather than expressive of faith.
The second is effective fundraising and resource mobilization that ensures a sustainable financial base. Not emergency appeals as the primary strategy. Not silence about money until the roof fails and the parish has no choice but to ask. A planned, annual rhythm of giving opportunities, donor cultivation, stewardship renewal, and honest communication about the parish's financial situation and what parishioner generosity makes possible. We should connect financial development explicitly to transparency and trust: parishioners who understand how their giving supports the mission are more likely to give generously and consistently than parishioners who hear about money only in crisis and are expected to respond without context.
The third is clear, regular financial reporting that builds parishioner confidence. The discipline of financial development is inseparable from the discipline of financial management that the next post will address. But the connection matters here: parishes that report their financial situation clearly, that help parishioners see the link between their generosity and the mission's fruitfulness, that treat their financial life as a shared responsibility rather than a private institutional concern, build the kind of trust that sustains giving over time. Parishes that share as little as possible and ask for more when needed erode the trust that generosity requires. And trust, once eroded, is slow to rebuild.
The fourth is the invitation to holistic stewardship: time, talent, and treasure addressed together rather than in isolation. The parish that forms people in all three dimensions is forming the whole person. A parishioner who gives financially but has never been invited into meaningful service is giving something real without giving everything. A parishioner who serves faithfully but has never been formed in the theology of financial giving has a gap in their discipleship that their service, however generous, doesn't fill. The connections between the three dimensions matter because they reflect the connection between different aspects of the same surrendered life.
# # #
Here is the distinction that matters most for this discipline, because it determines everything about how the parish approaches stewardship:
A fundraising approach asks: what does the parish need, and how do we get it?
It looks at the budget gap, designs an appeal to close it, communicates the need with whatever urgency the situation requires, asks for a response, receives what it receives, and moves on until the next shortfall. This approach can work in the short term. It tends to produce reactive giving: parishioners who give when asked and don't think about it otherwise, whose giving is responsive to institutional pressure rather than personal conviction. The parish gets what it needs this year. It builds nothing that lasts. And it trains its people, year after year, to understand giving as something the parish requires rather than something discipleship produces.
A formation approach asks: what does generosity do to the person who practices it, and how do we form our people in that practice?
It starts with theology rather than budget. With the understanding that giving is a spiritual discipline before it is a financial transaction, that the person who gives generously is being formed into a different kind of person than the one who gives reluctantly or not at all. That the act of releasing money, of holding possessions loosely, of trusting God with the practical consequences of generosity, is one of the most direct confrontations with the idolatry of security and self-sufficiency that the Christian life offers. This approach takes longer than a well-designed annual campaign. It requires sustained investment in formation rather than optimized messaging. But it produces something the fundraising approach never can: a community of people who give freely and joyfully as an expression of their faith rather than as a response to institutional need.
Let's name the fruit precisely: a culture in which parishioners freely and joyfully give as an expression of their faith and commitment to the parish mission. That's the fruit of formation. And it's the fruit that sustains the mission over time, through transitions of leadership, through building campaigns, through the ordinary and extraordinary financial demands of a parish trying to be faithful.
# # #
When this discipline is neglected, four things tend to follow, and they describe a parish whose financial culture is quietly undermining the mission it's trying to sustain.
Financial shortfalls constrain ministry. The parish struggles to maintain basic operations and fund the work the mission requires. Staff positions go unfilled. Programs are reduced. Facilities deteriorate. The mission contracts not because the vision is wrong but because the financial base can't support it. And the parishioners who could have been formed in generosity weren't, which means the shortfall is both a financial problem and a discipleship failure simultaneously, two problems sharing one root.
Trust erodes. Lack of transparent reporting and communication about finances undermines parishioner confidence in leadership over time. Parishioners who don't know how their gifts are being used tend to give less and with less conviction. The parish that treats its financial life as private institutional business, sharing as little as possible and asking for more when needed, pays a cost in trust that is slow to accumulate and difficult to recover. The problem isn't usually dishonesty. It's opacity, and opacity produces the same result that dishonesty does: a community that isn't sure it can trust what it's not being shown.
Discipleship remains incomplete. Parishioners uninformed about the spiritual importance of stewardship have a gap in their formation that their other practices don't fill. The person who prays faithfully, serves generously, and participates in small groups and formation programs, but who has never been formed in the theology of giving, has an untransformed relationship with money and possessions that discipleship is meant to address. The parish that avoids the subject has implicitly communicated that this area of life is outside the Gospel's reach. That implicit communication shapes people more durably than any explicit formation the parish might eventually offer.
Reactionary fundraising becomes the norm. Leadership resorts to emergency appeals and one-off campaigns rather than building a stable, long-term financial culture. The parish is always managing the immediate rather than investing in the sustainable. And each emergency appeal trains parishioners to give in response to crisis rather than as a steady expression of their faith, which means the parish is building a giving culture organized around institutional urgency rather than personal transformation. Each crisis produces some revenue and makes the next crisis more likely.
# # #
Here is the thing that makes this discipline hardest to take seriously.
Money is the subject most parish leaders are most reluctant to address directly. It feels presumptuous. It risks alienating parishioners who are already giving what they can. It requires a transparency about the parish's financial situation that feels uncomfortable when the situation is complicated or when trust hasn't been fully built. And so the parish talks about stewardship during the annual appeal and is otherwise largely silent about it, and considers the obligation met.
But the silence is itself a formation.
A parish that never teaches about money, that treats the offertory as a necessary awkwardness and stewardship as an October program, has communicated something to its parishioners about the relationship between faith and money. It has communicated that the Gospel doesn't have much to say about how they earn, save, spend, and give. That their financial lives are private matters outside the Church's concern. That generosity is a personal virtue rather than a dimension of discipleship the community cultivates together.
That communication is false. And it shapes people in the wrong direction more reliably than most explicit formation the parish offers, because it's repeated every week in what the parish doesn't say.
Is the parish forming its people in the theology and practice of stewardship year-round, or managing a budget and asking for help when it falls short? Is financial reporting clear, regular, and connected to the mission in a way that builds trust rather than erodes it? Are parishioners invited into the full range of stewardship: time, talent, and treasure together, as an integrated response to grace? Does the parish's giving culture reflect a community that gives joyfully as an expression of faith, or one that gives reluctantly in response to institutional pressure? And when was the last time the parish taught, from the pulpit and in formation, that generosity forms the person who practices it?
A parish that can answer those questions honestly has built something worth protecting. A parish that can't has left one of the most important dimensions of discipleship unaddressed, and the mission is paying the cost.
# # #
Generosity is not what the parish needs from its people.
It's what discipleship is trying to produce in them.
The difference between those two frames is the difference between a fundraising strategy and a formation culture.
And only one of them produces disciples who give freely, sustainably, and joyfully.
For the rest of their lives.
Next: financial management. Not the theology of giving but the discipline of handling what is given: whether the parish's financial systems, controls, and oversight reflect the integrity and transparency the mission requires.
Comments
Post a Comment