By Ajung Sojwal

I once heard a preacher mention that people tend to be more faithful church-goers when they feel more financially secure. Well, that really threw me for a loop for I thought it would be the other way round. But then, Jesus used a lot of money illustrations with the “faithful.” So, maybe money is a larger factor in my relationship with God than I am willing to admit.

In a conversation with someone who never goes to church but calls herself a Christian, she said, “I don’t go to church because I just don’t have the right clothes nor the money to spare for offering.” As one who is in charge of running a church, I am often overwhelmed by the constant need for money to keep the lights on, so to say. I am definitely grateful for those who come to church and can contribute financially. However, like the woman from her ramshackle hut, I too echo a similar lament, “We don’t go out into the world because we don’t have the right trappings nor the money to spare for ministry outside the church.”

When did God’s call upon my life become so tethered with capital campaigns and salaries for church staff? The pandemic has churned up many questions about my relationship with God, with money, and my very sense of call into ministry that I feel the need to overhaul all of the above and more. I had zero thoughts about money being such a big part of “ministry” when I entered into discernment for the priesthood. Yet, the moment I got ordained and started my ministry in and through the church, most of my time and energy got diverted to the groans of decaying church structures. It is very well to talk about faith and hope, but at the end of the day, when I pick up the phone to yet another call about a busted pipe in the basement, I know it will be money I think of, not God.

I suspect, the moment “church” became synonymous with steeples, stained glass windows, concert-like music and a repository of “worthy” folks from society, it became more about money and less about God. Jesus’ disciple, Peter, saw this truth when he realized his mistake in wanting to commemorate the transformative experience of God and human coming together in brick and mortar structures. Surely, Jesus’ “I am the resurrection and the life” has to do with incarnational living, not livelihood.

These days, I’m asking God more intentionally, where that incarnational living might be manifesting? Where might that space be, where the woman with no church clothes and no money for offering and we (the Church), with imposing religious trappings and no money for ministry can meet God together? With church buildings getting deconsecrated by the dozen every month, I pray for the real Body of Christ to fall in step with me on my road to Emmaus where we can break bread together instead of passing on an offertory plate.

Ajung Sojwal is Rector of St. George’s Episcopal Church in Hempstead, NY.