Tag: stewardship

  • The Heart of Prayer (Psalm 50)

    The Heart of Prayer (Psalm 50)

    There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from trying to be a good person all the time. From believing that spiritual maturity means having it mostly figured out. From thinking that following Jesus means becoming less flawed, less angry, less human.

    I’ve been noticing how many of our best people are burning out. And it’s not usually because they’re doing too much. It’s because they’re splitting themselves in half. Public self and private self. Spiritual self and emotional self. The person at church and the person at home.

    What if wholeness actually requires integration? What if the real spiritual work is not becoming a better version of yourself, but becoming more honestly yourself?

    I think about Jesus flipping tables in the temple. Jesus getting annoyed at the disciples for being dense. Jesus not always being calm and understanding. We’ve created this version of Jesus that’s never actually frustrated, never actually angry, never actually human. And then we try to be like that impossible version.

    But the real Jesus—the one in Scripture—is fully present in his anger, in his grief, in his exhaustion. He doesn’t transcend his humanity. He sanctifies it. He shows us that being human is not the problem. Being dishonest about your humanity—that’s where we get stuck.

    So what if spiritual maturity looked like this: More honesty. Less performance. More integration of your actual life. Less splitting yourself into acceptable and unacceptable parts. More bringing your whole self to church, to your relationships, to your prayers.

    That would be revolutionary. And a lot less exhausting.


    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • Faithful Stewards

    Faithful Stewards

    Jesus tells this wild story about a manager who gets caught cooking the books. When he’s about to be fired, instead of panicking, the guy just keeps cooking—he cuts his boss’s debtors’ bills in half. And here’s the really confusing part: the boss commends him for it. For being dishonest! And then Jesus uses that story to teach the disciples about money. It makes you go, what in the world?

    John Wesley figured this out centuries ago. He knew Jesus was being practical about how people actually work. Wesley called his most famous sermon “The Use of Money,” and he didn’t get tangled up trying to justify the dishonest part. Instead, he gave us three clear rules: earn all you can, save all you can, spend all you can on what matters. But here’s where it gets serious: give all you can. Give for others. Give for God’s work.

    Wesley lived that way his whole life. Money was just a tool to him, not the point. He took care of what he needed, sure, and his wife did too. But they were always asking, what does God need us to do with what we have? There’s a story about a kid who knew Fred—one of his youth—who remembered Fred saying that money was only good for what it could do for other people. That stuck with him years later. That’s the kind of life that matters.

    So the lesson isn’t about being clever like that dishonest steward. It’s about being clever like Jesus—figuring out how to use what you have to actually love people. You’re not serving money. You’re serving God. And that changes everything about the decisions you make.


    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope