Sacred Listening- Honoring Values and Discipline in Fundraising

Every effective fundraising training or workshop experience in the development arena illuminates the importance of listening. We routinely emphasize the importance of appreciative inquiry and open-ended questions to become proficient in identifying and illuminating the philanthropic passions of the donor. Over time, the best in the field are accomplished at listening to God, listening to mission and vision, and listening to the donor, too. The question for this season is; “Are YOU listening?” 

Four months into the pandemic, I began to experience a new level of listening. My reordered life rhythms and new Sunday morning worship routine became the backdrop to poignant stories at the intersection of faith, pastoral concern, and stewardship trends. I was reminded of the sacred calling that leads people to be resilient in the face of difficult times and solutions-oriented in the most complex of situations. Unanticipated organizational change is often a slow and arduous process. Yet, as I listened to clients and conversation partners, I was reminded of the innovation possible when our values guide us. I was surrounded by diverse leaders striving to hear the constituents they serve. Their listening translated into increased ministry, solidified outreach and compassionate pastoral care to those experiencing loss. I became a witness to this tangible impact.

In July, I was invited to serve on a panel on race, racism and white supremacy. On the reading list for participants, I noted the article White Supremacy Culture from Dismantling Racism: A Workbook for Social Change Groups, by Kenneth Jones and Tema Okun. 

The article led to one of many ah-ha moments about the potential of listening in this pandemic moment. Throughout the summer I encountered numerous churches that had crafted thought provoking reading lists and learning opportunities, as they embraced the opportunity to reshape their faith culture and community at this moment in history. Development officers, mindful of shifting goals and campaign unknowns, listened intently to the experiences of donors and faith communities, intent on making the best possible choice to move forward. As leaders wrestled with the question of what is God calling us to do, I was again reminded that we can only answer that question with listening.

The article identified several characteristics of white supremacy culture which show up in organizations. The process of deeply reading the article prompted me to listen to my own discomfort and to consider what I was being called to do. Two of these characteristics stood out to me: perfectionism and a sense of urgency. These traits were so indicative of the development culture I have become accustomed to, I was prodded to think more deeply about the necessity to align our values with our practice of raising resources. The discipline of listening is not only for cultivation or “the ask”; the discipline of listening is for the organizational culture that shapes our work.

Culture is learned, subjective and cumulative; it is ever present and often very difficult to name or identify. Organizations led by people of color are not exempt from the many damaging characteristics of white supremacy culture. As the article named the identifiers of white supremacy culture, I could feel the tension and weight of my own work style and organizations I served for my entire career. I noted in myself, a professional strategist of color, countless traits that I had adopted, in pursuit of acceptance, fitting in, and being recognized in a non-diverse field. In perfectionism, making a mistake is confused with being a mistake. I have championed Intentional Progress Over Perfection (IPOP) for the entirety of my career in nonprofit capacity building and fundraising, but realized in my own business framework, I too had adopted perfectionism as an acceptable trait. Although mistakes are inevitable opportunities to learn, and a very real part of personal growth and development, internalizing mistakes can erode who you are as a person. Mistakes are healthy. Perfectionism is a culture trap.

When teaching about a culture of generosity, I unpack the importance of developing an authentic culture of appreciation. A healthy approach to organizational growth incorporates a practice of speaking to what is going well and affirming how the work is done, not just an itemization of what is done. Countless major gifts from donors of color, philanthropic milestones and history-making development achievements can be credited to listening. A sense of urgency can offer an organization or donor a call to action. But that same sense of urgency can mistakenly lead well-meaning individuals to promise too much for too little in return; or sacrifice the interests of people of color for the sake of winning a perceived bigger prize. In reality, the work often takes longer than expected and realistic goals can be both necessary and unpopular. Development professionals of color echo these sentiments in unison, but we often fail to listen. In pursuit of a new, more inclusive operating paradigm, we are called to assess the role of perfectionism and urgency in how we engage others. We measure progress as bigger and more, without attention to the costs of the decisions being made. Asks are often made at the sacrifice of the giver, at the risk of relationship and without the necessary context for meaning. These traps can be avoided by listening.

In listening, we have an opportunity to reshape and reimagine the professional environments and standards that frame how we do the work. Listening requires of each of us a renewed commitment to embrace what is uncomfortable and to sit and rest with truth that may not be our own. There is a reason why fundraising requires the honed skill of listening. Sitting with and understanding the truth of someone else is a gift of its own. The art of listening is also good business for fundraisers, healthy organizations and philanthropists alike. In recognizing that listening is indeed Holy, the benefits provide for an authentic love of humankind that sustains each of us in unprecedented times.

Questions for Reflection

How do you incorporate sacred listening in your work? 

• Take time to read the article referenced. How do you see these characteristics portrayed in your organization?

Aimee Laramore @ the Lake Institute Distinguished Visitor Panel

The Lake Institute 2018 Distinguished Visitor Panel included:

• Dr. Brad Braxton, Director of the Center for the Study of African American Religious Life at the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture

• Aimée Laramore, Philanthropic Strategist for the first PhD program in African American Preaching and Sacred Rhetoric at Christian Theological Seminary

• Rev. Starsky Wilson, President and CEO of Deaconess Foundation and Chair of the National Committee of Responsive Philanthropy

• and moderator, Dr. Leah Gunning Francis, Vice President for Academic Affairs and Dean of the Faculty, and Associate Professor of Christian Education and Practical Theology at Christian Theological Seminary

Black Philanthropy Month: A Conversation with Aimee Laramore

The Joy Group sits down with Aimee Laramore to talk about philanthropy, faith, fundraising, and giving.

The root of philanthropy is "phil," which is a Greek word meaning "love." Hence, we have Philadelphia the city of brotherly love which is about 30 minutes from my home in Wilmington, DE. So, for Aimee, philanthropy means the love of humankind. And it refers to the long-lasting impact and legacy that your giving will create. Philanthropy is a strategic form of giving and focuses on rebuilding.

Philanthropy asks this question: What impact do you want your financial resources to have?

Charity, on the other hand, tends to be simple, immediate acts of gratification such as purchasing tickets for raffles or attending a pancake breakfast fundraiser. Charity tends to focus on rescue and relief.

Read the full interview here.

Making Technology Sacred: 7 Proven Electronic Giving & Offering Practices

It is the beginning of the calendar year, and congregations and institutions across the country are re-embracing budget, finance, and fundraising goals.  There is a tendency to identify resolutions that require new habits and new choices, with the hope of fostering a different impact or reaching new goals.  As we continually pursue a culture that is generous and foster tools that maximize consistent giving, we can also build intentional efforts to retain the spirituality of offering time while leveraging the efficiency and effectiveness of electronic giving tools.  

For years I have spent time teaching people about the role of consistency in generosity.  Within training seminars, I would typically talk about the transition that has taken place regarding how often we are physically in the pew and demonstrate how decreased attendance could easily lead to decreased giving.  From a fundraising perspective, it has been a fairly easy concept for people to learn.  Those who give electronically benefit from the structure that technology offers and our institutions benefit from the consistency of giving.  Yet, we still must remember the sacred nature of the giving moment within our faith traditions. 

Just a few Sundays ago, when the call for the offering began, I pulled out my phone and clicked an app.  I watched as my son pulled out his phone for the same purpose.   Just a few years ago, this behavior would have been foreign.  After years of being trained and training my children to guard against distractions in service, technology has become second nature.  I actively use my Bible App, take notes on my phone, upon occasion tweet passages and sermon points, and I often give electronically too. As a consultant who teaches best practices, it hasn’t been lost on me, that the times are continuously changing. 

Embracing technology requires thoughtful integration into our worship habits.  Giving tools, along with the Wi-Fi speed and wireless connection quality within faith institutions, should be tested and monitored often.  It is prudent to both provide diverse methods of giving and actively train our members how to use the tools that have been provided. Beyond the tools we use to give, it is also critical to integrate electronic givers in the offering language, expressions of gratitude and the execution of the giving practices that we use.  

Unlike the timed gifts that individuals are able to schedule through their banking institutions, I have celebrated the spontaneity inherent in being able to give efficiently and generously with an app during service.  In addition to consistency, electronic giving has grown to make spontaneous giving possible as well.  Throughout the nation, peers and colleagues use giving functions featured on their church website, and other congregations have tailored apps and giving kiosks on site.  

With every modernized giving tool and emerging practices in giving, we must be careful to remember the sanctity of the giving experience.  In efforts to reinforce consistency in giving, we want to avoid tithes, offering, or mission gifts being seen in the same light as utility bills.  Another commandment might include, thou shall remember that giving is a sacred and spiritual practice that should allow the giver to mimic and demonstrate God’s love, both in and out of worship services. 

Consider the following practices as you plan for this new year: 

1)    Leverage technology in giving to reinforce consistency. 

2)    Teach and train on the topic of consistency in giving, as well as designing worship services that build in time to explain and demonstrate giving alternatives. 

3)    Test all giving platforms bi-monthly, and evaluate the technology infrastructure necessary to use them effectively. 

4)    Review how giving tools translate to different platforms of phone and tablet screens. 

5)    Remember diverse giving styles in offertory language and practices. 

6)    Provide cards, coins or tangible participation tools for electronic givers to use in worship. 

7)    Integrate and leverage technology habits that reinforce the desired worship culture. 

If we understand the spirituality of fundraising, we recognize the practice of giving to be an essential aspect of our theology.  What we believe above giving and money, shapes our practices and the ways we live out our faith.  Likewise, we are called to understand and integrate modern day tools that allow individuals to actualize what they believe. In recognizing the benefits of consistent giving, we are also called to reclaim the tools we use, so that we intentional make technology a more sacred component of how we worship.  Electronic giving and offering practices can foster new habits when we embrace technology for sacred purposes. 

For the Culture, For the Future

During a particularly busy season, I was actively serving in ministry when my children pointed out the irony of my commitment to young people, given my tendency to not prepare breakfast for them on the days that I was serving others. The criticism was hard to hear. In my desire to serve in leadership and meet the needs of the children who attended our weekly worship service I had sacrificed attention to my first ministry. Motherhood is a constant reminder that our children are watching. Their critique stung.

It should then come as no surprise that teaching faith and philanthropy in my household has been an energetic journey. The ability to spell the word philanthropy and more importantly, to explain the meaning (love of humankind) has shaped over half of their young lives. I learned how to give on a church pew next to my grandmother. She was never known by others as a philanthropist. Over time I came to realize that my children had learned lessons around money and giving much differently. They are another level of experiential learner.

For much of my early life, I had never understood the massive impact of my grandmother and her particular generosity. Her ability to weave intentional lessons around money, giving and gratitude has shaped my understanding of family, and my personal and professional life. While admittedly a work in progress, in our home we have endeavored to impart these lessons to a generation that experiences church, community, family, education, technology and giving in different ways. Checks are largely foreign, church experiences have been varied and diverse, non-profit engagement has been an anchor of their experience and their examination and experience of faith and giving looks very different from my story.

Black Philanthropy Month just wrapped up in August, and I believe this year’s theme of “For the Culture, For the Future” masterfully captures why we should be intentional about our legacy and the lessons we teach. For far too long I have listened to, watched and observed teaching about how millennials give that was anchored in research and projects without the younger generation at the table. Relative to Generation Z, similar mistakes are emerging around the topic of giving. We fail to engage and unpack the complexities of their lives, much less their giving, and the values that guide them at their core. I was not prepared to answer the densely layered questions my Gen Z’s proposed when they wanted less information about the power of giving, and more clarity about how did we end up “here,” with such a great need to give to. While they are givers, they are motivated about the systems, circumstances, and context that shapes the disparity between those that have and those that do not.

This summer my 14-year-old made his first tithe gift to our congregation using a donation app. After months of saving and excitement about his work throughout the summer, it took several weeks before he downloaded the app, received his bank card, learned his account information and hit send.

His gift was made at the island in our kitchen in the middle of a conversation about his worship experience and his confusion about checks, gross and net. His satisfaction and sheer joy of pushing his electronic submission (and then checking his account balance) will be a fond memory for years to come.

Yet, their stories are their own. One child has consistently supported the alma mater of my husband and a local homeless shelter, places where she has seen financial gifts make a tremendous difference. Meanwhile, I have benefitted from the robust conversation of a teenager who has said clearly, “I give my best when I actually want to give and I can see the impact. I’ve been raised to give back and I understand it, but there’s something about obligation that eliminates feeling good about it. There’s nothing good about feeling forced.” As I asked more questions and pushed for more answers, the response was fairly simple, “I feel best when I am moved to give and I decide on my own. I have given more than 10% because it was my choice. I like deciding for myself.”

In a time where we see a near daily narrative that questions children like my own for simply existing in spaces because others feel uncomfortable, it is possible to become disenfranchised about the current state of affairs. I examine the wage differentials for our culture and gender and recognize that education will not eliminate the wealth gap that is pervasive within our community. I witness intentional efforts to breed hatred, stoke culture wars and the ever-widening gap between the haves and have-nots. Nevertheless, I have hope for the future because of these young people. They give, in their own unique ways and with their own particular narratives, despite a world that is often hostile and unwelcoming. They find joy and care, and sufficiency in small acts to make a difference. They give financially and they give of their time, their talent and their particular stories, their testimony.

I can’t believe the false narratives about the next generation. I have had my own accountability growth at their hands. They are both learners and teachers. They see a world that needs everyone to do their part, and they actively pursue ways that they can write a different script for the future. When pressured about the selection of major and the pursuit of STEM education from parents that champion the gifts of math and science, our eldest replied, “life is more than your earning potential.” Two hundred conversations later about wealth, major, job selection, graduate degrees and more, I was convinced that we had made a convincing argument about what was needed for the best life. But still, she cautioned, “you’ve already raised me to be a good person. I think you’re going to have to trust that regardless of what I select, you have shaped me to be a productive human. I know how much is riding on the future, for ALL of us.”

The theme for Black Philanthropy Month 2018 was “For the Culture, For the Future.” The future is in good hands, indeed.