new to you friday–on the money

Some things have changed since I first posted this.

Louie the cat has gone to the great mouse hunting grounds in the sky, I’ve stopped with the meat completely, and I purchased (terrible, covers-nothing) health insurance. I still sponsor Eko through Compassion and I added a boy named Kelvin, who just turned five and sends me pictures of cows and has trouble writing the N in his name.


But other things remain the same. (Believe me, the mid-30s are no time to start skimping on moisturizer.)

How about you? What do you spend money on, and what does that say (good or otherwise) about your priorities?

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This past week I not only paid my 2006 federal and state taxes, but also paid the first quarterly installment of my self-employment taxes for 2007. I’d known since last winter that this April was coming and had been saving accordingly, so it was okay to write the checks. (Well, as okay as it can be when one’s money is going for this.)

But it got me thinking about how I spend my money, and wondering how it compares to other people. Obviously it’s a personal issue, and it varies considerably depending on one’s age, health, marital status, number of kids, interests, etc.


Other than taxes and giving to your local church—both of which I hope are part of your regular routine—how else do you allocate your funds? What are you willing to spend money on and what aren’t you?

And when I say “spend money on,” I mean where do you a) invest in necessities at a higher price or (presumably) better quality or b) budget for and purchase non-necessities and splurges?


I’ll start.

I spend money on antioxidants and endorphins: organic food, yoga classes, and good moisturizers. Ironically I don’t spend money (right now) for health insurance.

I spend money to sponsor a boy named Eko in Indonesia through Compassion International but I don’t buy fund-raising products from kids selling them door to door.

I spend money on plane tickets and travel but not day-to-day transportation; I expect my cars to last at least a few years after they’re paid off and I drove the last one until the engine threatened to fall out the bottom and lay smoking on Highway 5 in San Diego.

I don’t spend money on jewelry (that’s for a nice boy to do someday) or jeans (hello, Goodwill) but I’ve been known to spend money on other things to wear. I spend money on coffee beans and the occasional nice meal out. I don’t spend money on paper towels, cleaning products, or dry cleaning. (Vinegar and water cleans everything, and if I can’t machine wash it I don’t need it. If I could find a way to dryclean things with vinegar, I’d be in heaven.)

I don’t spend money on meat for me (I don’t like it) or high-quality food for my cat (who’s going to throw it up on my carpet later anyway).

I spend money on a carpet cleaner.

I spend money on DVD rentals but not cable. I spend money on haircuts but not shampoo. I love live music, but I never spend money on concerts, and I’m not sure why.

I suspect your buying patterns are the same combination of intentional and completely contradictory. What do you spend money on?

flooded with blessings

This post brought to you by Facebook and a flood.

My friend Amy recently wrote, “Jen, I would love to read your thoughts on this: if we live happily and comfortably, should we be thankful to God for it or should we be on red alert because it probably means we’re not sacrificing enough? And I’m not talking about being ‘rich,’ per se, I’m talking about simple stuff like having a refrigerator and clean water and an extra set of sheets and towels and more than one pair of underwear…that sort of thing. I never know if I should be joyful or nervous when I realize I’m comfortable and happy…!”

And then Nashville received almost 14 inches of rain in two days, flooding streets, destroying homes and businesses, and killing 18 people. Suddenly it did seem only the luckiest had extra towels and uncontaminated water.

And I got to thinking about “stuff,” and the things we say about stuff.

How many of the following have you heard?

1. “Compared to 95% of the world’s population we are ALL rich, just by being born in this country.”

2. “It’s not wrong to have money, it’s about the condition of your heart and what you do with the money.”

3. “The person who dies with the most toys still dies.”

4. “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” – Jim Elliot

It’s true we have won the global lottery just by being Americans, especially those of us who are white middle-class Americans. Should we feel guilty for that?

It’s true that love of money, not the money itself, causes many evils. But rich is relative; if I shop for secondhand clothes before lunch out with friends and my sister buys clothes at the mall but packs her lunch, who’s a “better steward”? And how do I know if my heart is right?

It’s true we can’t take it with us. But God put me on the planet—is it so wrong to want a few vacations and a food processor?

It’s true our treasures in heaven vastly surpass our treasures here. But is anyone else in the universe as spiritual as Jim Elliot was?


Discussions of money and our faith often raise more questions than they answer, because—like so many things—we want black and white answers, and—like so many things—the answers are as muddy as the Cumberland River water swamping downtown Nashville. The problem is the fall affected this aspect of our natures just as it warped every other part of us, so something God created as good—sharing and giving—now includes guilt and manipulation and comparison.

As my dad once wryly observed, if we give all our money away to care for the poor, we’ll be poor and people will have to take care of us. (By the way, my dad is one of the most generous people I know.)

On the other extreme, What Jesus Would Not Do is spend more on iTunes downloads and Diet Coke than he gives away.

So what’s the answer?

Well, Amy, since you asked, here’s my opinion: God asks us to give 10%, which may not have been hard for Jim Elliot but which I hate. And that’s as much black and white as he gives us. Beyond that, we ask him if we’re doing enough and if we’re doing the right things. We keep asking, every week or every month, and obey the best we can.

And no, you should not feel guilty about being happy or having more than you need. Guilt is not helpful. Instead, let the gratitude for these blessings prompt you to do more so that others can also have a warm place to sleep, dry clothes, enough food. Keep asking God to let you know if you should do something else, or something more specific like giving time, and be prepared to not always like his answer. Keep asking God for humility, too, so that when you sponsor a child in Africa or volunteer at a soup kitchen it remains a gift to God, not a cause for pride. And then, if you and God are at peace about your checkbook and your motives, be at peace. Enjoy a week at the beach with your family or a vanilla latte or a new sweater and thank God for the blessing.


And if you want to help Nashville, click here.

Instead of passing a plate, bag, or KFC bucket during services, my church collects tithes and offerings through tall, narrow, plain wooden boxes placed at the entrances to the worship center and in a few other buildings. When I attended the new members class, the pastor explained the elders made this decision to reduce the perception among visitors that the church “only wants their money.”

I hear this all the time—that many seekers (and not-so-seekers) believe the church talks too much about money or cares more about people’s giving than their salvation. This is ironic because, first, Jesus talked about money all the time and, second, many pastors I know are terrified to confront the issue at all much less overdo it, and, third, with the high rate of debt and low rate of savings in our society it seems we have an obligation to teach people about biblical stewardship.

But I digress. What I find interesting about the offering boxes is that even though the method of collecting the money is different, the idea is still mentioned from the pulpit each week. Without fail, the person doing the welcome and announcements will mention the presence of the boxes and remind members to give as part of their worship.

It’s also interesting that the principle is important enough to our leaders that they are willing to forego a tithe of another kind. The senior pastor estimates the church could receive 10% more money each year by passing the plate—those impulsively-given fives and tens add up. But they choose to do without that cash in favor of making a statement.

Finally, it’s interesting that our church is a very generous church. Whether this is caused by the offering-box method or happens in spite of it, I don’t know, but we consistently make or exceed the budget for each year plus give many thousands of dollars to the poor and needy of Orange County and to special efforts like hurricane relief.

So what conclusions to draw? The practice doesn’t seem to be hurting us, and I’m not aware of a biblical precedent for passing buckets so the question seems more practical than theological. What do you think?