On Music, Ministry, and Money . . .

 

These three MÕs combine to make one tricky topic.  Significantly, Òyou cannot serve both God and MoneyÓ (Luke 16:13).  Yet Òthe worker deserves his/her wagesÓ (Luke 10:7).

 

Most musicians and/or ministers I know (including myself) really wrestle with the issue of whether and, if so, how much to charge for their services.  We want to be of service to God, to share freely with others the gifts that we have freely been given, and we donÕt want to turn anyone away because they are unable to pay.  On the other hand, we know that if music and ministry are to be our primary vocation, we need to earn enough of a living to be able to continue using our gifts to serve and bless others, rather than having to put our ministry on hold in order to secure enough income to make ends meet.  To complicate matters further, those of us in the U.S. are caught between an American culture that glorifies wealth and a Christian culture that sometimes glorifies poverty (or, conversely, considers income to be a measure of GodÕs blessing).

 

I want to share the convictions I have come to hold—as a person called to ministry and gifted with music—about money.  First, here are some things I do not believe:  I do not believe that being rich, poor, or inbetween is an adequate measure of morality, worth, or happiness.  I do not believe that God intends for people, whether Christians or not, to live at a level of poverty where basic needs go unmet.  I do not believe that hard work always results in proportional financial gain (though it sometimes does).  And, I do not believe that anyone is obligated to give me a product, service, information, or other form of value without agreeing upon some sort of reciprocal exchange.

 

We have the privilege, however, of giving freely.  If we are Christians (or if we have similar principles through other religions or convictions), we get to live in such a way that we go above and beyond what is expected.  By walking extra miles (Matthew 5:41), ÒlendingÓ without requiring repayment (Luke 6:35), and turning the other cheek, we express the reality that we are sustained by a perpetual grace that is not limited by checks and balances.  When we joyfully give beyond obligation or expectation, we demonstrate that we, not others, determine our actions:  true generosity, like true forgiveness, is subversive.

 

The paradox is that generosity/grace/gift must be preceded by mutuality.  The American myth of self-sufficiency notwithstanding, from the moment we are conceived, we are dependent upon others to survive and thrive.  The reality is that the hardest worker among us is not independent but interdependent.  Part of being human is having limits, accepting finitude, and learning to embrace with humility (that is, with an earthy, accurate perspective—‡ lˆ humus) that none of us is truly self-sustaining.  We are equal souls before our Creator, but we are unequal in strength, talent, intelligence, physical and mental health.

 

Thus, just as MaslowÕs hierarchy of needs teaches us that a hunger for esteem presupposes that the hunger for food and safety has been adequately satisfied, the call for generosity assumes that there are resources to be generous with.  Likewise, self-sacrifice requires a prior self to sacrifice.  Problems occur when well-meaning people try to give out of scarcity rather than abundance—or when well-meaning people urge them to do so.  The Information Age, with its rapid pacing and multitudinous options, is teaching us that it can be as sinful to overextend ourselves as it is to hoard.

 

What have these musings to do with musicians and ministers?  To put it bluntly, we are often asked to work for free.  Too often we are guilt-tripped and manipulated into offering our services without, or with inadequate, compensation.  If we quote a fee higher than anticipated, we are accused of being selfish, greedy, or ungrateful for what weÕve been given, or even of failing to heed our spiritual calling.  If we say no to an opportunity, we are told weÕre wasting our gifts.  If we charge a certain amount of money instead of accepting a love offering, we are charged with a lack of trust in GodÕs providence.

 

Granted, our profession (like all the others) does have its share of folks who are in it for the money—but most of us arenÕt.  Most of us wish we didnÕt have to deal with money at all.  Many of us would rather sell ourselves short than be thought selfish, would rather accept a less-than-living wage than ask for a higher salary, would rather receive whatever is offered than negotiate a fair price.  No wonder we cannot serve both God and Money, for the shadow side of the latter involves not only greed but also fear and guilt.  We fear pricing ourselves out of a job.  We feel guilty (especially if we are female, young, and/or single) for setting fees, having requirements, using contracts, sending bills, enforcing consequences.  We begin to burn out and feel resentful and taken advantage of.

 

I am convinced that the answer is stewardship, which as with most profound spiritual principles is a concept both simple and complex.  Stewardship means acknowledging that everything we have, spiritual, material, and otherwise, comes from God and is ours only graciously and temporarily.  It entails holding our gifts loosely while managing them faithfully.  It means we neither bury our talents out of fear (Matthew 25:14-30), nor do we share our pearls with swine (Matthew 7:6):  thereÕs more than one way to squander a gift.

 

Am I suggesting that musicians, ministers, and others should always charge for their services?  Absolutely not.  What I am suggesting is that we not be ignorant or ashamed of their God-given worth.  If we choose to serve gratis, it should be with the grace of going the extra mile, not the guilt of having to prove our unselfishness.  If we choose to charge less than the going rate, it should be because we want and are able to—and, I would add, with as much care not to harm our fellow ministers and musicians who arenÕt in a position to do so, as we show toward those with whom we are being generous.

 

After all, money is a means, not an end.  Currency works best when it is allowed to flow in and out, like the current of a river . . . we receive and we give and we save what we need to and are able to in a reservoir, but not so much that the water pressure bursts the dam.  We help each other when floods and droughts occur.  I find that the practice of tithing (giving 10% of my income to organizations and persons according to the SpiritÕs guidance) helps me ensure that the channel stays flowing.  It also places limits on how much we can invest in our future at the expense of othersÕ present, providing a tangible reminder of how interconnected humankind truly is.

 

Moreover, money is rarely just about money.  It wouldnÕt be in danger of being served as a god (Luke 16:13) if money didnÕt involve our sense of security or insecurity, ability or inability, dependence or independence, worth or worthlessness, control or lack thereof.  Discussing our net worth and comparing our salaries wouldnÕt be taboo if money didnÕt have the power to trigger anxiety and envy.  But part of our fallenness is that we live in a system where not everyone has enough, and many of those who do lack the courage or knowledge of how to effectively share their resources.  (Three strategic causes I believe in on this front are child sponsorship, microloans, and homeless newspapers.)

 

Thus, each of us must discern how to be the best stewards of our time, energy, health, hearts, and dollars in our own Òneck of the woods.Ó  Some artists, composers, counselors, ministers, and writers opt to earn money in another line of work (or already have financial means) so that they can give of their creative and spiritual services for free.  I and others choose to charge a fee for service, as fairly and generously as we can, knowing that some folks will consider us outrageously pricey and others will marvel at how affordable we are.  Those of us who are self-employed often require higher hourly wages than salaried employees because we must make double Social Security payments, purchase private health insurance, and fund our own retirement accounts.  I have also learned (sometimes the hard way) that creative and contemplative persons require ample amounts of solitude, free time, self-nurture, and practice, without which the level of quality they seek to offer is simply unsustainable.

 

My hope is that if money is a stumbling block for anyone who wishes to hire me, we can talk through it openly and come to an agreement we both feel good about.  Surprisingly, it has become part of my ministry to try to heal some of the fear that occurs around talking about business and finance.  These issues represent an ongoing struggle in my life and vocation as well as many othersÕ, and overall it is a small price to pay for the privilege of doing work that comes from the heart.

 

So, thank you to all of you who have been truly wonderful to do business with, and thank you also to those who have challenged me to examine my subconscious beliefs and dawning convictions about music, ministry, and money.  May we grow in stewardship and joy as we seek to bless one another and promote the flourishing of all in GodÕs economy.

 

 

© 2010 Laura Kathryn Rosser (ASCAP)