As clergy and congregations move toward Advent and Christmas, Black Friday offers an opportunity for self-reflection on a reality so omnipresent that it can be hard for people living in the United States to perceive. Like the air we breathe, consumerism saturates our imaginations. It shapes our identities, our desires, and the way we celebrate the holiday season.

I recognize that I am not offering a single neat or easy alternative, and I am well aware of how deeply ingrained stewardship is in the mainline church. It will take years of exploration and experimentation to move beyond it. What matters is that we keep seeking language and practices that draw us closer to the witness of the Gospels.

To be clear, I love pet blessings. But what if we also recovered Francis’s radical poverty, simplicity, and love of the human Jesus as an essential way of rebuilding the Church anew?

As we approach “stewardship season,” I want to question the language of stewards and stewardship. To be clear, this is not a critique of fundraising. I serve a small Spanish-speaking congregation, and I know firsthand how vital annual pledge drives are for a workable parish budget. My concern, rather, is theological. My question is whether stewardship is still the best framework for what we are doing this season.

... we too often given short shrift to the hard work of understanding why we believe what we believe and what shapes our foundational values and deeply held convictions around so many important issues, not least of which is money.

As a lay theologian who works at the intersection of money, God, and institutions, I am often asked what is the difference between fundraising, as an element of stewardship, and manipulation.

Theologians have a word for this kind of revealing, when something stark and dire and even painful occurs and reveals a deeper truth, something hidden in plain sight; it is called apocalypse. The word apocalypse includes the meaning “unveiling” or “disclosing”.

A close reading of Mark 12: 41-44, especially interpreted through the lens of the Law found in Deuteronomy (14:22-29), stirs up important questions about an often used stewardship approach that interprets this as an object lesson from Jesus regarding individual, sacrificial giving: a person of limited means asked to give generously beyond their livelihood. 

The parable of the talents then would become a commentary at large about an economy that uses people and values things rather than values people and uses things.