Gains and Losses

A Baptist pastor was meeting with his board of directors. At the meeting they were discussing the budget for the next year. Part of the discussion was the pastor's salary. As the conversation began to ask questions of what a fair wage and net worth is, the pastor asked for a moment of privilege. He said, "I am sending around a piece of paper. If every member could write their name down. And after your name if you would write your annual salary. Then, if you could, also note your net worth. It seems fair," he concluded, "that if you are going to discuss my finances and have knowledge of my salary and net worth, I should know yours."

Retelling this moment in the meeting he said, "things got really quiet in the room. It was so quiet you could have heard a mouse. . . pee on cotton." Mouse pee on cotton I love that, that is very quiet. You might call that an awkward silence. 

              An awkward silence doesn’t last very long, but it feels like it will never end.  Money has the power to create awkward silence, usually when people hope to keep something private but are asked to reveal it.  Part of that tension is privacy.  We all have matters we wish to keep to ourselves: investments, debts, salaries, donations.  I have seen many instances where a donor wishes to remain anonymous.  Money has a strong power where silence is concerned.  But it’s not just money.

              When I arrived in a congregation many years ago, one of the first meetings I had was with the personnel committee chair.  We discussed many items, spoke candidly, considered future directions for the staff, church.  At the next session meeting, the chair related our conversation verbatim and on numerous occasions shared thoughts I spoke but did not consider ready for public consumption.

              It was a great set of lessons for me.  First if an elder is an investigative journalist and editor of a newspaper, perhaps you should clarify what is “on the record” and what is not.  Next, I learned that day to speak as if the mic was always hot, the recorder was always recording, the words to be heard by all.  If you speak, speak as if what you are saying is the truth without reservation.  The last lesson is a part of our reading today.  Never forget: nothing is hidden that will not be revealed. 

              It is on account of this first session meeting and the help of a journalist, it is on account of that I am reluctant to sign and have refused to sign confidentiality agreements.  I have no problem with confidentiality.  It is a useful tool, can guard the dignity of a group or a board or a relationship.  But confidentiality is for a time, usually brief.  It should never be confused with secret keeping.  Yet, the real reason I give for not signing such agreements on a board is this: at some point most of what is spoken in a boardroom should be made public.  Decisions, directions, plans, goals, considered privately in the confines of a boardroom will become announcements and reports and advertising campaigns.  To say, “what is spoken here stays here” is simply not true. Like the creepy adage (what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas), not true. What is hidden will be revealed and Nevada has no ability to change this.

              I am sure there are many reasons we seek to conceal things, keep things a secret or at the very least discreet.  Often there are good reasons.  We can overshare or we can offer too much information.  Who hasn’t heard someone describe a wound or an injury or a health matter and thought, I cannot unhear that; I can’t unsee that?  We need filters.  Someone asked me recently about sermons, do I write them out?  Every word was my response.  “You don’t want my stream of consciousness in the pulpit."  Nothing bad, but way too many rabbits and tangents and obscure references to movies made in the 1980s. 

              Perhaps financial matters should be private.  Jesus says nothing that is hidden that won’t be revealed, but he doesn’t say don’t hide anything, or don’t keep anything to yourself.  Yet money has a strange power creating almost a compulsion to conceal.  Perhaps this is what made seeing our name on a donor wall at a hospital a bit of a strange feeling.  Our names were listed alongside the level of our donation.  It was certainly not the largest gift, but it wasn’t the least. It also helped that Garry is in the middle of the alphabet, so we were in the middle of that list.  Not sure what I thought about seeing my name there.  I was sure, though, about the corporations and major donors who gave with the intent and purpose of having their names listed prominently for all to see. The very large donations had none listed “anonymous.” 

              I was asked by a new elder once, “what do the other elders give?”  Mike was a fund developer for an exclusive boarding school and spent his career raising funds and so he had two expectations.  First, he expected me to know what the leaders of the church give just as he would know what the donors give the school and second, he expected me to recommend what he needed to give.  Not exactly pay to play, but close.  He was dumbfounded when I told him I don’t know what people give and the only advice I could give him was our pledge to the church.  We give 10% of my salary. He was unimpressed that I didn’t know what people gave and he suggested that 10% wasn’t going to happen.

              Synagogues tend to operate this way.  Not all I am sure, but I am aware that upon entering some synagogues the rabbi may ask for the information the Baptist pastor did of his board. With income and net worth a percentage is reached and that is the expected support, the pledge, of the synagogue member.  This has a very big value.  If all the members of this church gave between 1-2 of their annual salary or net worth, there would be no campaigns, no appeals, no funny skits or pledge cards.  I have run these numbers wherever I have pastored, and it is staggering to see how much 4% represents.  10% is mind blowing.

              Yet, we do not charge nor tax.  If we did, assuredly, it may make things a bit easier and less of a shot in the dark as we wait to see the results of each stewardship campaign.  No, the purpose of the annual pledge, the tithe at whatever percentage you feel compelled to give, the purpose is not to meet the budget or have enough money or to “keep the lights on.”  We need to do all of those things, but that is not the reason for the way we invite you to give.  How and what we do in stewardship has only one purpose and that is to gain a spirit of generosity and lose the weight of fear and greed.

              I was given a great lesson about this when Kathy and I were seeking to achieve a tithe.  It was a great lesson casting light on both adages in our reading today: what is hidden will be revealed and for those who have more will be given and those who have not even that will be taken away.

              The lesson began the first time I went to Sue and John’s house.  It was an enormous home built on the cliffs of the Puget Sound with views of Seattle and Mt Rainer.  You could watch the ferries come and go and the seals and orcas play.  The home was not only custom-built, but it was also designed to be a place calm and peace and joy.  John and Sue were very welcoming and gracious with us, loaning me a very nice sports coupe until we could buy a second car.  I will never forget touring the house and being surprised how each hallway, each doorway led to a panoramic view.  It was as if you were on the beach, at sea, or hanging out with the osprey at all times.  

              Three years later visiting the house was very different.  John died suddenly of a rare disease, Sue was bereft, and the deacons of the church were packing up the beautiful home.  Sue had to leave within weeks of John’s death because for many, many years he concealed from her and everyone, that the home was financially ruinous, too costly, too high a mortgage, too much upkeep.  By the time John died the house and nearly everything of value in the home would need to be sold to cover a fraction of the debt.  Sue lost everything, but what made the losses worse was the secret being revealed.  She had no idea and now she knew too much.

              Sitting with her as the deacons packed, she vacillated between a broken heart and a heart torn by betrayal.  She was coming to see how many years John spent in dread and denial. She thought the get rich quick schemes were a strange retirement hobby and the lottery tickets were just a nuisance.  Now she knew it was the desperation of no longer being able to increase their debt or mortgages.  What I saw and heard so clearly was how important it is to be truthful, to be honest, and how painful is the weight of secrets, how exhausting it was for John to keep them concealed.

              Perhaps the most revealing thought was what it means to listen to our heart, listen so more is given and to listen to our heart so that what little we have is taken away.  Learning to give from a spirit of generosity where we overcome fear and compulsion to amass, to horde, learning to live with the freedom of giving without expectation of return, learning what it means that we only keep what we give away, learning to hear those voices in our heart is what John wanted.  I know that and trust that.  I knew him as a person who deeply wanted to be the most gracious.

              But then at some point, somewhere the fear of losing, the fear of not having that home on the cliffside with the stairs leading to the shore and the panoramic windows and grand kitchen looking down on the family room replete with grand piano, I know at some point what he heard in his heart was fear and dread. No one can know; no one can see or hear.  That was what he heard, and those voices were ruinous.  Hence Jesus says, consider how you hear.

              I often think of John when there is fear of money or possessions, worry of loss.  I consider John and I pray I will ever listen to the voices of generosity and trust Jesus when he says, you only save what you lose; you must die to live. The house on the cliff was to die for, but not worth a life.

I want to thank the members of the stewardship campaign.  You all have done a great job, created a moment where we can hear our heart.  For that is what a stewardship campaign is and why it is important.  Rare are the occasions we are led and encouraged to listen to the voices of our heart, voices filled with compassion, kindness, grace.  We can always hear them, but rarely do we craft a space to listen.  That is what a good stewardship campaign is.  A chance to listen to our heart.

I pray you listen and grow in faith, gain generosity and ever lose the power of fear taking life from us.  Amen.