Funding February. A month of concentrated focus on asking people for money. A month where our staff across South Central PA are pulling back from campus to renew efforts in finding partners for this work.
Usually when I tell people that I fundraise a full budget (and now jointly with my wife, a budget well over $100,000 per year), they wince, groan, and comment on how they’d hate being in my shoes. It makes me wonder if fundraising is just misunderstood, or if I’m a glutton for punishment. Interestingly, I get similar comments when I tell people that I majored in math in college.
In any case, funding IS part of the job for all staff working for InterVarsity, and it doesn’t have to be a drawback. There are a few things that are great about being required to raise funds:
- CONNECTION- I’m pretty streaky with keeping up with people (as you may have surmised based on my blogging record). But there is some wonderful consistency that comes with scheduling newsletters and prayer updates and blog posts. Perhaps it doesn’t help figure out scheduling visits to see family or a relaxing evening with friends in the neighborhood, but it does create a rhythm of letting people in on my life, and I actually remember others with great regularity as I see their names on email lists, call logs, donor records, and so on.
- DEPTH- Deep relationships are a natural byproduct of talking about money. It’s awkward, it’s unnatural, it’s taboo. But it’s sort of like healthy conflict- the fact that it’s uncomfortable actually is a sign that it’s good. The tension is healthy. The reality is that money is a necessary part of all our lives, and money has pull on our deepest innermost places that we don’t often acknowledge. But it’s true. And asking people to part with money (even for a good cause) shines a light on those embedded strings. And makes us all have to deal with them. Uncomfortable, but good. It’s hard to describe exactly how good this has been for me in relating to family and friends. It’s strange that just about everyone I’m connected to knows exactly how much money I make, and even stranger that this isn’t true for everybody. I mean, why is weird to talk about salaries? And for just about everyone I’m connected to, I know how they think about spending their money and what has been difficult, whether it is the array of worthy causes to give to or the failure of housing appliances or health or business ventures. I hear these stories all the time, and I pray for family and friends in a depth that is missing in so many other relationships.
- DEPENDENCY- This is both the best and the hardest part of raising funds. Everyday I am reminded that I need the handouts of others to do the work that I love. Now, this is actually true also for friends who are computer programmers or selling office furniture or teaching classes- we are all dependent on others seeing what we offer as valuable. It’s just that I ask directly for validation on the value of my efforts. I suppose folks in retail are also asking directly, so there’s that connection. But the temptation I face daily is the allure of a paycheck job, where I just do my work and get a check at the end. That’s my fantasy when I’m in a dark place. Yet again, that’s pretty much how this works. I just have to ask directly for people to contribute money toward the account where my paycheck comes from. And this is hard, as I’ve said, and as you’ve imagined. But it is so good, so very good. Because if I just punch the clock, I pretty easily believe that it’s my own efforts that produce the dough. And in ministry, this would be a very dangerous assumption. It would be very, very dangerous for me to have the offer of punching the clock to go to campus, under the radar, connect with students, listen to hard stories, offer to pray, look at scripture, answer questions, make invitations, challenge assumptions, and then simply return home. It would seem edgy and glamorous and fun. But it would be all about me. It would not be about students. It would be about my glory, not about service. And there’s something that happens with raising funds- I know that I am not alone. I might be the only one physically embodied on campus, but really I am just the focal injection of the interest and care and attention and resources of about 100 individuals and families. I am not alone. I have a community with me. I am dependent, but I am not alone.
Yes, fundraising is good. For connection, for depth, for dependency. These are structures of community. My job, fundraising, is required community. This is a beautiful thing. One week into Funding February, I remember, I hope, and I work.
