Dear Potential Pledgers:

In my offering meditation yesterday, I referenced our annual stewardship campaign. As we prepare to set our 2024 budget, the Session prefers to have a snapshot of the revenue side of the ledger. While we receive limited revenue through fundraisers and facilities rental, the vast majority of our expenses are covered by regular member giving.

Each year I endeavor to create a theme and offer sermons and reflections on the spiritual benefits of generosity. But often it all seems like a strange game. The church leaders try to subtly persuade people to give more than they initially planned, and the members smile and say they’re doing their best. Meanwhile, a few amazingly generous people underwrite a lion’s share of the budget, and the remainder gratefully skate by. It’s like that in most congregations, and I often feel powerless to change the dynamic.

Before the season starts, we’re all prepared with our responses, and as with most campaigns, by the time you receive the literature and see the programs, you look at your pledge from last year and decide to go from there. If you think things will go well in the coming year, you may nudge things up a bit; if this past year has brought some extra challenges, things stay the same or drop slightly. Except for those who have completely disengaged from the church and dropped their giving altogether, things vary only slightly from previous cycles. It seems to matter little what we do. We know there are bad ways to ask for money, appeals that will turn people off, creating indignity and resentment, but the magic wand that will unleash astounding generosity seems illusive.

After 35 years of ordained ministry, I’ve learned that the stewardship-drive package isn’t the answer. Giving is a way of seeing our relationships. We have a thousand different reasons to hold on to our resources—inflation, a shifting economy, children, college costs, long-term care, personal debt, fixed incomes, healthcare expenses—all conspire to undercut the viability of your church’s “ask”. There are also suspicions regarding the church’s “needs”; it’s easy to wander around our facilities and challenge the wisdom of spending choices. Over the years I’ve heard people say they weren’t giving because the Property Committee was letting the building fall apart, and in that same church people claimed they were not giving because that same committee was spending too much money on the building. I have served churches where even the mission budget became an excuse for stinginess—for some, too much was going to programs overseas, and for others, too much was going to local projects; for all it was a reason not to increase giving. When people have made up their minds to resist, everything becomes a justification.

Which brings me to my musing for this fall’s FPCLG pledge campaign: “A Way of Seeing.” The first part of Proverbs 29.18 reads: “Where there is no vision the people perish…” The verse is frequently used to commend big ideas and grand aspirations. But the second half of the verse offers a more grounded appeal: “but the one who keeps the law is happy.” This beautifully links disciplined realism with forward thinking.

I no longer believe that sustained generosity is driven by persuasive appeals. I believe generosity arises from how we see ourselves, our resources, our world. People graciously contribute to their places of worship not because of their church’s needs (those are obviously bottomless), but because they are inspired by how they see their relationships. I believe our work together is worth our best support. I believe FPCLG makes a dramatic difference in the lives we touch. Dani and I believe it is reasonable, and even wise, to give significantly more in 2024 than we did in 2023. This is not about a better way to ask; it’s about the best way to see.

Hoping you will join us in a way of seeing, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor