Money and religion.
Mar. 23rd, 2003 10:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivkaUnitarian-Universalists suck at talking about money.
It's pretty much the last taboo for a religious movement in which sex and politics and blasphemy and heretical ideas are ordinary table topics. UUs don't want to talk about money. In particular, we don't want to talk about money at church. Asking for money is something that bad religions do.
Which is why I'm so nervous about the fact that sitting on my desk is a crisp blue folder containing the names of four UUs. I'm supposed to contact them and arrange a 30 to 45-minute home visit in which we will discuss (a) any questions from the recent congregational census that are of particular concern to them, (b) their views on the budget options, (c) their annual pledge. Yipe.
The reason we're pulling out all the stops and making individual home visits is that the church is nearly broke. We're a small urban congregation saddled with a large, old, historically important building. We've been operating with a budget deficit for the past several years, and our investment fund - which was never all that large, actually - is being rapidly depleted. The lousy state of the stock market hasn't helped. But it's also the case that a lot of members don't give as much as they could, and that some don't give anything at all.
All the money the church spends - for heat, salaries, charitable activity, roof repair, dues to the UUA - has to come directly from members' pockets, or from interest earned on money members have given in the past. We make a little money renting out our facilities for concerts and weddings, but in general, we have to come up with every penny we want to spend. Which means that people like me need to ask other people like me for money, however unpleasant a job it is. And which means, in this particular case, that I'll need to encourage people to give more than they did last year - or tell me what they're willing to see cut from a budget that's already been pared back considerably. It's going to be a hard thing to do.
But I need my church. I needed, today, to hear an inspiring sermon about choosing joy and life in a time of darkness. I needed to be reminded that spring came this week in the midst of war and anger and helplessness. I cried as we closed with This Is My Song, and the woman sitting next to me put her arms around me, and I needed both the tears and the embrace.
None of that could happen without money.
It's pretty much the last taboo for a religious movement in which sex and politics and blasphemy and heretical ideas are ordinary table topics. UUs don't want to talk about money. In particular, we don't want to talk about money at church. Asking for money is something that bad religions do.
Which is why I'm so nervous about the fact that sitting on my desk is a crisp blue folder containing the names of four UUs. I'm supposed to contact them and arrange a 30 to 45-minute home visit in which we will discuss (a) any questions from the recent congregational census that are of particular concern to them, (b) their views on the budget options, (c) their annual pledge. Yipe.
The reason we're pulling out all the stops and making individual home visits is that the church is nearly broke. We're a small urban congregation saddled with a large, old, historically important building. We've been operating with a budget deficit for the past several years, and our investment fund - which was never all that large, actually - is being rapidly depleted. The lousy state of the stock market hasn't helped. But it's also the case that a lot of members don't give as much as they could, and that some don't give anything at all.
All the money the church spends - for heat, salaries, charitable activity, roof repair, dues to the UUA - has to come directly from members' pockets, or from interest earned on money members have given in the past. We make a little money renting out our facilities for concerts and weddings, but in general, we have to come up with every penny we want to spend. Which means that people like me need to ask other people like me for money, however unpleasant a job it is. And which means, in this particular case, that I'll need to encourage people to give more than they did last year - or tell me what they're willing to see cut from a budget that's already been pared back considerably. It's going to be a hard thing to do.
But I need my church. I needed, today, to hear an inspiring sermon about choosing joy and life in a time of darkness. I needed to be reminded that spring came this week in the midst of war and anger and helplessness. I cried as we closed with This Is My Song, and the woman sitting next to me put her arms around me, and I needed both the tears and the embrace.
None of that could happen without money.
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Date: 2003-03-23 10:20 pm (UTC)On the one hand, I find this idea so bizarre. Obviously, religious institutions aren't run on fairy dust, and everyone knows it. Obviously, we should maturely acknowledge the need for our support, and discuss it comfortably. On the other hand, I obviously do share this weird attitude to some extent or I wouldn't be uncomfortable with the idea of helping canvass the congregation.
"So, it's supposed to be a percentage of your income but it's also a sliding scale (ie, a higher percentage as you make more money) and when I first joined I was paying about a third of what I do now.
Our church has started to talk, very carefully, about tithing - giving 10% of your income, preferably as 5% to the church and 5% to other causes you believe in. I think that very few people actually do that. But nobody knows how much anyone else makes (except for church employees, whose salaries are printed in the budget), so there would be no way to tell if people are doing it or not.
We have one of those old downtown churches of which you speak. To further intensify the issue, the building is historical as well as being old: it's the first church in America purpose-built for Unitarians, and the original sermon laying out the theological principles of Unitarianism (http://people.bu.edu/dklepper/RN212/unitarian.html) was preached from its pulpit. It's also beautiful, with stained-glass windows by Louis Comfort Tiffany. We'd lose a lot if we gave up the building... but, you know, the roof leaks.
Sorry, hee. Interesting topic to me.
Don't apologize! It's an interesting topic to me, too, or I wouldn't have posted about it. :-)