If a person gets his attitude toward money straight, it will help straighten out almost every other area in his life.
Billy Graham
I recently read some interesting statistics about the dollar value of the work done by the typical pastor. Most of us would wish that church boards took these figures seriously!
Doug Self, in Pastoral Ministry Newsletter, calculated roughly as follows: A professional motivational speaker gets $1,500 per speech. Multiply that by the 50 Sundays per year a pastor preaches and you get $75,000. (Of course, if you speak more than once per Sunday, as many pastors do, that figure should be even higher.)
Workshop leaders get $350 a week, which would add another $17,500 per year for pastors who lead classes.
If you calculate a counselor’s fee at $50 per hour, the average pastor’s five hours of counseling per week would be worth $12,500 a year.
For home visits, doctors get $62.50 an hour, plumbers $35. At an average of about $50 per hour, then, a pastor who does fifteen hours of visitation a week should be worth another $37,500 per year.
And for administrative services, a grade-school principal makes $20 per hour. Thus, a pastor giving fifteen hours a week to administration merits another $15,000 annually.
All told, according to Doug Self’s calculations, the typical pastor should get a yearly salary of about $157,500.
Sounds like a bit more than most of us make, doesn’t it? Yet we know that the time and level of skill required of the ministry really are on a par with the demands of those other professions. And therein lies another of the common pastoral frustrations, because far from receiving such a fine salary, many of us struggle just to make ends meet from month to month.
One pastor summarized the situation this way: “My family lives on my salary. My wife does not work outside the home except in a volunteer capacity. We have three children and a fourth on the way. We tithe cheerfully and gratefully. Yet we struggle almost continually with a sense of impending financial doom. We are not starving, as is evidenced by the lack of slacks that close around my middle, yet we don’t see dentists, and the need for new shoes for the children throws us into a mild state of panic.
“We honestly want to trust the Lord as our security. But we struggle with a checkbook that needs ‘month-to-month resuscitation.’ At times I find myself resenting church members who are well off but don’t support the church financially.”
Even if you’re not struggling to pay bills, there can be a tension in the area of money if your salary is below that of the average in your congregation. You’re expected to dress, entertain, educate your children, and so on like the more-affluent parishioners, and that just may not be possible.
As another pastor said, “I think people are thankful for my help, but they are not listening to me when I clearly state that my financial package does not adequately compensate me for my work.”
Aside from the internal resentment that can arise, there are some other dangers that this situation can create.
Buying and Selling the Gospel
If pastors are feeling a painful financial pinch, then when people offer gifts, there’s a strong appeal, but also a strong danger. We always have to be careful about how we communicate the gospel message, of course, and when some kinds of gifts are given, we have to recognize the impression we’re creating — for ourselves, for the congregation, and for the outside world.
Money and ministry have always had an uneasy relationship. Ever since Simon Magus in the Book of Acts, people have tried to buy salvation and the power of God. We have to admit the possibility that gifts can be given with strings attached.
One time I lost a church member because I confronted him over this issue. He wanted to approach church members to raise money for projects he was trying to finance, and he wanted an implied endorsement of his business from me. He offered me a gift, and I turned it down. If I had accepted his gift, he would have felt justified in using my name — “I’ve talked with the pastor about this, and he’s supporting me.”
Because I felt he was trying to take advantage of me, I said to him very directly, “You’ve got to understand that I think it’s inappropriate for you to use the church for this purpose. And I cannot be involved in that kind of activity.”
On the other hand, you don’t want to offend unnecessarily people who are genuinely generous. And in cases like that, I’ll often try to redirect the gift. I’ve said something like “Thank you so much. This is really terrific. I’d love to have it, but I don’t need it as much as so and so. If you want to make my day, why don’t you give it to him?” Some people will be offended by that kind of suggestion, but it’s important to guard your integrity in the area of money.
What can happen otherwise is that even if there are no overt strings attached to a gift, people who have given them can begin to think, often in subtle and even unconscious ways, that to a certain extent they own you. There can even develop a bit of a condescending attitude. Pastors can begin to feel like beggars, beholden to the generosity of these people. Clearly, it’s not healthy for either party to think in those terms.
In an effort to avoid reinforcing the stereotype that clergy are cheap or poor or always looking for a free meal, I’ve made it a practice throughout my ministry to pay the bill at restaurants my fair share of the time. I’ve found businessmen are often surprised when I reach for the check. I’ve had more than one tell me, “You know, you’re the first pastor who’s ever picked up the tab.” It’s a small gesture, but it seems to bring respect for the ministry.
I’ve seen pastors who have responded to the frustration of feeling second class financially by developing a combative, critical edge, a bit of reverse snobbery. In preaching about total dedication and giving your all to the Lord, for example, it’s not hard to tell when they’re really making a veiled statement to the effect that some people in the congregation are making a lot of money, but they can’t be as spiritual or committed as I am or they wouldn’t have so much.
The opposite can happen as well. The Bible tells us we’re to be no respecter of persons, which means we should see only people and their needs, not bank balances. It may even be that those parishioners who are less well off have more need of our help because of low self-esteem or other problems. Yet even though we know these things, it’s easy to start playing up to people who have money and playing down to those who don’t.
A short while ago, I was with a wealthy Christian layman who said to me, “Jay, I just can’t believe this. Pastor Jones sent my son a beautiful, $50 leather study Bible as a gift. Wasn’t that a wonderful thing for him to do?”
I replied that I thought it was great and I hoped his son would enjoy using the Bible. But I was also thinking that in all likelihood Pastor Jones had not sent $50 leather study Bibles to the children of the carpet tackers and auto mechanics in his congregation. You see, Pastor Jones, in addition to serving his church, also has a television ministry that this layman helps to support. I was surprised that this usually astute man didn’t see he was being given preferential treatment with a barely disguised motive — a desire for continued support.
My point is that in ministry it’s easy for us to get into the pattern Pastor Jones was following. If we do, the congregation will eventually pick up on our habit of catering to the wealthy and slighting the rest, and real damage will be done to our ability to minister in that place. And what’s more, it’s wrong.
Carnal Comparisons
Another problem with money I’ve experienced grows out of comparing my situation to that of my college classmates who have become highly successful in the business world.
I had half a dozen friends at Taylor who went into medicine, for example. Some time ago I had dinner with one of them in Indianapolis. He took me to an expensive restaurant, and while we were there the maître d’ brought a phone to the table for him. It seemed he was answering it every two minutes to discuss some real estate project or other, and he told me about the various deals and all the money he was making.
As he talked, I found myself thinking, This isn’t fair. I was smarter than he was. I got better grades. I faithfully entered ministry. And now he’s making all this money. He’s spending more on this meal than my family spends on food in a week!
Fortunately, in this particular case the Lord wasted no time in teaching me a valuable lesson. After I concluded my visit in Indianapolis, I went straight to Seattle for another appointment. And while I was there, I was involved in an automobile accident. I was sitting in the back, with my feet up under the front seat. When our car hit the other car, I flew forward and hit the windshield with my head. But what really hurt were my ankles, which were badly sprained as they were yanked violently out from under the seat.
I was taken to the hospital, and the doctor gave me a shot down into the joints of my ankle. As he was working, he began to talk to me.
“You know, I go to First Baptist, and I heard you preach last night,” he said. “I wanted to go into the ministry when I was younger, but my dad wanted me to be a doctor. Then I wanted to be a medical missionary, but my dad wouldn’t hear of it.
“So look at me,” he continued. “This is what I do with my life. This is all I do. Anybody could do this. I’d give anything if I had been obedient to the Lord and done what you did.”
All this time, that needle was hanging out of my ankle, which really got my attention! Still, it was as if God had sent him to me like an angel. I had been resenting the fancy restaurants and real estate deals and other material things my friends had, and here God was saying to me, “Jay, you know you made the better choice. Don’t resent these guys. Don’t be jealous. Here’s this doctor, doing what you thought was such a big deal, and he still feels an emptiness of heart. You don’t have to live with that kind of emptiness.”
It was a valuable reminder that ultimately, money isn’t the answer to the quest for satisfaction.
Facing the Money Issue
Nevertheless, money remains an issue. It’s one of the hardest subjects to talk about, especially when it comes to our own wages. We may feel a need for more money, yet we don’t want to appear greedy, materialistic, or ungrateful for what we’re already getting. We’re also fearful of how people will react to a request for more money. One pastor listed his major concern at the time as “trying to get a raise without making people angry.”
Despite these understandable concerns, the best way I know to deal with the problem of not enough money is to face it head on, to let the board know the need, and to ask for help. It does the church no good if the pastor is preoccupied with financial struggles and remains silent. But to deal with the problem properly and effectively requires an appropriate approach.
First, we must be willing to look hard and honestly at our personal budgets. Is there genuine need, or are we trying to maintain a lifestyle that’s not in keeping with what our congregation can support?
When I was in YFC, we once had a staffer who complained he couldn’t live on his support level. When he disclosed his finances, however, we discovered he was buying a big, expensive car that carried a monthly payment equal to, in today’s dollars, about $800. He was clearly trying to live beyond a reasonable level, at least in that area.
I don’t mean to imply that anyone consciously tries or even wants to live extravagantly. But if we’re going to seek more money, we need to take a close look at our budgets and be prepared to justify what’s there.
Second, we need to be ready to show the figures to the board and explain the need for the raise we’re requesting. If their feeling, rightly or wrongly, is that we should be able to live on what we’re already getting, it’s only fair that we should show them why that isn’t so. This can be done in an amicable, businesslike way, and that’s the atmosphere we want to foster.
Third, we may have to do some educating of the board in terms of the hours and effort the pastorate requires. One pastor, for example, said that in his church he has to deal with “a perception that pastors are lazy and ineffective and really don’t do very much between weekends.” If that’s the perception, for whatever reason, we can’t expect board members to be receptive to a request for more salary. They need to be educated first. Some pastors have effectively used a time log to present to the board the hours they’ve spent in various ministry activities.
If all the above fails and the church can’t or won’t provide the needed salary, you may have to resort to asking permission to seek a second income. I don’t recommend that for obvious reasons, but there are situations where it becomes unavoidable.
At the same time, stay away from demeaning jobs like selling products to your congregation. Some products or services are worthy items in and of themselves, but your role as spiritual leader inevitably suffers if you’re also in a role of selling something else to the people on the side.
Finally in terms of dealing with the financial struggles and frustrations and possible resentment in the ministry, I have to remind myself periodically of why I’m doing what I’m doing and of the fact that I made a conscious choice many years ago to pursue a line of work that I knew didn’t pay nearly as well as other things I could have done. That’s still true even though the form of my ministry has changed.
Economists talk about the “opportunity cost” of money, which means that when you choose to use a dollar for one purpose, part of the total cost involved is that you’re giving up the opportunity to use that dollar for other purposes. Making one choice precludes many others. That’s true of money; it’s also true of time and effort. By choosing to devote my time and effort to the ministry, I knew I was giving up the opportunity to apply them elsewhere in more remunerative activities. When I remind myself of that, and of why I made the choice I did, it becomes much easier to accept what God has given me in material resources.
My son has recently had to deal with this issue. He was working at a camp for welfare children near Chicago, living in a rented house owned by the mission. He lived with a lot of hand-me-downs, making almost nothing in salary. Some of his college classmates, on the other hand, were already doing very well in business.
One night he came to me and, around the kitchen table, we talked about the anger and disillusionment, about his family and his values. We talked, we laughed, and we cried. Finally, around three in the morning, he had worked through it and come to terms with his present situation. He’s now much happier in his work.
The attitude toward which I’m striving was exhibited to me one evening when I was a young student pastor. I went one night to preach at a little church in Indiana, and I was excited to have been invited to speak in their revival meeting.
I arrived early, and my habit was to go in and try to get a feel for the church and the people — look at the bulletin boards, the hymnal, the arrangement of the pews, and so on.
This particular night, the old janitor was there, sweeping up, and when he saw me he came over and said, “Are you the young fellow who’s preaching here tonight?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, I want to tell you something,” he said. “I was pastor of this church for thirty years, and I’m retired now, but they let me be the sexton.” He paused. “Maybe after church tonight you’d like to come down and have a little pie with my wife and myself.”
He pointed down the street two or three doors to a white house with flowers in front. It was a modest home, right up against the sidewalk.
“We never thought we’d have a house of our own because we always lived in a parsonage,” he said. “But look how well the Lord’s taken care of me. I’ve pastored in this church and in other churches, too. I’ve got this job, so I can continue to serve. And now I’ve got this nice house. I just felt the Holy Spirit telling me to tell you that a servant of God will never have to beg bread.”
I couldn’t help but see that this janitor’s spirit was full of the goodness of God. I went away thinking, I’ve just met a saint. I hope I can live up to his example. If I can end up my career as a janitor with good health, a nice little house, and a piece of pie to share with a visiting minister, I’ll be a happy man. God will have taken good care of me.
Not long ago I read a letter from a woman who wrote to my office at Taylor. She’s a teacher making a modest salary, and she said in her note that she and her husband have now sent five kids through college, four of them at Taylor.
“Hallelujah! We’ve paid our last bill to Taylor,” she wrote. “Of course, we’ve got a few loans to pay off.…”
Then she added, “I just thought I’d tell you about the sign on my refrigerator door that’s kept me going through these years the kids have been in school. It says: The only thing more expensive than a college education is ignorance.“
I tell that story because there’s a crucial parallel for those of us in the ministry: The only thing worse than the minister’s salary is to have a lot of money and be disobedient to God’s calling.
If you don’t believe me, go talk to that emergency room doctor in Seattle.
Copyright ©1988 Christianity Today
