God and Mammon, part II.
Apr. 29th, 2007 08:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivkaToday was our church's Annual Meeting. Michael was, unsurprisingly, elected to serve another year as the church treasurer. And we voted on a budget.
I posted about the budget process a while back, and the differences of opinion people have over how tightly we should hold onto our money. The budget presented today was a stripped-down version of the one discussed at the budget meeting two weeks ago - the Board of Trustees had cut it back almost to the bone, in an effort to make the thing balance without taking out more than what's considered a "reasonable and prudent" amount of 5% of the investment and endowment fund. (We anticipate that our funds will grow by about 9% annually.) They didn't quite manage it - Michael's projection is that we'll have to take 5.6% out instead of 5.0%.
The penny-pinchers are apoplectic. Not just over the 0.6%, but also because they think Michael's income projections are too generous. They came to the Annual Meeting prepared to fight. One of them brought with her a sparkly, sequined purple bowler hat filled with fake money. In the period for public comment on the budget, she brought her props up to the microphone and gave a long, harranguing performance about how people seemed to think we had a magic hat full of money. She was sarcastic, scolding, and nasty. She would purse her mouth up and say sourly, "Michael thinks we're going to be able to raise $210,000 in pledges and I certainly hope we can. But that's very" - and here you could tell that she practically wanted to spit - "optimistic."
She spoke at length. Then her husband spoke at length in the same vein. Then a soft-voiced woman spoke up and talked about how the church was starting to bring in a lot more young families, many of whom can't pledge at the same level as the more established folks who filled up the meeting. She pointed out that we are building for the future of the church, that the financial rewards of growth will come in time, and that we should be more worried about our mission statement than our bottom line.
Then it was my turn. I brought forth a lot of the questions that I struggled with in my last post about the issue. What makes us successful as a congregation - having a bank balance that always rises, or having active and growing programs that enrich people's lives? Yes, we need an endowment to support our crumbling physical plant and to provide a cushion for future lean times - but isn't there a point at which we say that our cushion is big enough, and that we're going to put more of our money towards fulfilling our mission?
Michael announced that he was asking the Board to create a task force charged with working out how big our endowment should be - what is a reasonable amount to hold in the bank against future needs. He invited anyone interested in the topic to sign on for the task force. A few other people made thoughtful comments (for example, pointing out that the overage was less than 1% of the I&E funds, and praising Michael for the transparency of the budget process). When it came to a vote, the budget passed by about 70 to 3.
Afterward, Hatful of Money Lady ripped into me. In the same huffy, pursed-up, sarcastic way that she described Michael as being optimistic, she accused me of being "eloquent and persuasive." (One of the nicer backhanded compliments I have received.) She said that she thought I was unfair to her and didn't give her arguments any credit. She - I mean, the person who brought props and waved fake money around at the podium - lectured me about my offensive "tone." "The same thing happened at the budget meeting," she said angrily. "I spoke, and my husband spoke, and we were very practical and realistic, and then you got up and said all of these idealistic things, and you're very persuasive and eloquent, and it's VERY UNFAIR."
I lost my cool once, when she lectured me on my tone. I pointed out that, given her sarcastic comments and sparkly hat, she had no call to speak to me about my tone. After that, I managed to keep calm. I told her, calmly, that it was clear that we held very different opinions, and that I didn't agree with her. I pointed out that it's good for the congregation to hear both points of view fully expressed. She fulminated about how I had made her feel bad, and "as a therapist" something that she's probably lucky I didn't catch. "I intended no personal offense," I told her. "I'm still going to feel the way I feel," she said huffily. ...Okay. I think I was supposed to feel more responsible for that than I do.
I'm still kind of shocked by the whole exchange. As far as I can tell, her only quarrel with me is that I didn't agree with her, and said so in a public meeting. I still can't believe the song-and-dance she pulled with that freaking hat. Adults who are supposedly in community with one another simply shouldn't behave that way.
I posted about the budget process a while back, and the differences of opinion people have over how tightly we should hold onto our money. The budget presented today was a stripped-down version of the one discussed at the budget meeting two weeks ago - the Board of Trustees had cut it back almost to the bone, in an effort to make the thing balance without taking out more than what's considered a "reasonable and prudent" amount of 5% of the investment and endowment fund. (We anticipate that our funds will grow by about 9% annually.) They didn't quite manage it - Michael's projection is that we'll have to take 5.6% out instead of 5.0%.
The penny-pinchers are apoplectic. Not just over the 0.6%, but also because they think Michael's income projections are too generous. They came to the Annual Meeting prepared to fight. One of them brought with her a sparkly, sequined purple bowler hat filled with fake money. In the period for public comment on the budget, she brought her props up to the microphone and gave a long, harranguing performance about how people seemed to think we had a magic hat full of money. She was sarcastic, scolding, and nasty. She would purse her mouth up and say sourly, "Michael thinks we're going to be able to raise $210,000 in pledges and I certainly hope we can. But that's very" - and here you could tell that she practically wanted to spit - "optimistic."
She spoke at length. Then her husband spoke at length in the same vein. Then a soft-voiced woman spoke up and talked about how the church was starting to bring in a lot more young families, many of whom can't pledge at the same level as the more established folks who filled up the meeting. She pointed out that we are building for the future of the church, that the financial rewards of growth will come in time, and that we should be more worried about our mission statement than our bottom line.
Then it was my turn. I brought forth a lot of the questions that I struggled with in my last post about the issue. What makes us successful as a congregation - having a bank balance that always rises, or having active and growing programs that enrich people's lives? Yes, we need an endowment to support our crumbling physical plant and to provide a cushion for future lean times - but isn't there a point at which we say that our cushion is big enough, and that we're going to put more of our money towards fulfilling our mission?
Michael announced that he was asking the Board to create a task force charged with working out how big our endowment should be - what is a reasonable amount to hold in the bank against future needs. He invited anyone interested in the topic to sign on for the task force. A few other people made thoughtful comments (for example, pointing out that the overage was less than 1% of the I&E funds, and praising Michael for the transparency of the budget process). When it came to a vote, the budget passed by about 70 to 3.
Afterward, Hatful of Money Lady ripped into me. In the same huffy, pursed-up, sarcastic way that she described Michael as being optimistic, she accused me of being "eloquent and persuasive." (One of the nicer backhanded compliments I have received.) She said that she thought I was unfair to her and didn't give her arguments any credit. She - I mean, the person who brought props and waved fake money around at the podium - lectured me about my offensive "tone." "The same thing happened at the budget meeting," she said angrily. "I spoke, and my husband spoke, and we were very practical and realistic, and then you got up and said all of these idealistic things, and you're very persuasive and eloquent, and it's VERY UNFAIR."
I lost my cool once, when she lectured me on my tone. I pointed out that, given her sarcastic comments and sparkly hat, she had no call to speak to me about my tone. After that, I managed to keep calm. I told her, calmly, that it was clear that we held very different opinions, and that I didn't agree with her. I pointed out that it's good for the congregation to hear both points of view fully expressed. She fulminated about how I had made her feel bad, and "as a therapist" something that she's probably lucky I didn't catch. "I intended no personal offense," I told her. "I'm still going to feel the way I feel," she said huffily. ...Okay. I think I was supposed to feel more responsible for that than I do.
I'm still kind of shocked by the whole exchange. As far as I can tell, her only quarrel with me is that I didn't agree with her, and said so in a public meeting. I still can't believe the song-and-dance she pulled with that freaking hat. Adults who are supposedly in community with one another simply shouldn't behave that way.
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Date: 2007-04-30 04:14 pm (UTC)Regarding your icon, I saw a Flying Spaghetti Monster temple and garden this weekend (in Lego). There was a meatball tree.