A reflection by Jen Hartmann
Manager of Philanthropy, Atlantic School of Theology

First things first: I'm not a ministry student, nor am I a theologian. This is not a theological treatise but observations from a humble fundraiser and servant of God who works alongside much more inspiring human beings.

Theological enlightenment sold separately.

Over the course of my career, I have worked with several nonprofits, each with its own compelling case for support. They have one thing in common: charitable gifts are the fuel that keeps the engine of good work running.

I am thankful to be part of the community at Atlantic School of Theology (AST), an ecumenical university in my hometown of Halifax, Nova Scotia. AST exists to make it easier for people to answer their call to faith leadership through accessible programs, affordable tuition, and financial aid made possible through the generosity of donors, churches, and our founding parties. Keeping AST growing and thriving is truly a community effort.

Christians are exceedingly generous but don't necessarily like to talk about giving. We are taught to be modest and humble, so talking about our charitable giving habits (or even asking for support) can feel greedy, braggy, or simply awkward. I understand the hesitation.

But Christians are also taught to wonder at miracles and to trust paths whose full consequences we cannot yet see. As Elizabeth said to Mary, “Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord’s word to her will be fulfilled” (Luke 1:45). Perhaps that is why I have come to think of charitable giving less as a financial transaction and more as an expression of faith.

We already understand giving as part of our culture. We put money in the church collection plate on Sundays, fill Salvation Army kettles, buy Girl Guide cookies, round up our grocery bills, and support school fundraisers and community organizations. We participate in each other’s work constantly.

Furthermore, charitable giving is a canonical part of the Christian faith. Tithing is mentioned in multiple spots throughout both Testaments. Jesus told the Pharisees that they ought not to tithe while neglecting justice and the love of God (Luke 11:42). He chastised them for not giving both money and love. The former is less meaningful without the latter.

Giving is love.

This is part of why I perceive fundraising as a positive activity in line with Christ’s teachings. Henri J.M. Nouwen, in A Spirituality of Fundraising, writes, “From the perspective of the gospel, fundraising is not [always] a response to a crisis. Fundraising is, first and foremost, a form of ministry. It is a way of announcing our vision and inviting other people into our mission.” In another passage, he puts it even more plainly: “Fundraising is precisely the opposite of begging.”

I delight in finding shared enthusiasm, especially when it means connecting one person's resources to another person's life's work. The charitable gift is the point at which those things meet, and the outcome is a fire they light together.

If fundraising is a ministry of invitation, then giving is a ministry of participation.

Giving is ministry.

That is how I understand my own work as a fundraiser: I am a facilitator and a connection builder, standing between two groups of people I find inspiring: those who have committed themselves to God through teaching, learning, and service; and those who make that commitment possible. The relationship is one of joy and gratitude.

Nouwen describes this kind of fundraising as a drive to create “new, lasting relationships.” Not a strange concept to a professional fundraiser, but it changes the question entirely for prospective donors. Fundraising is not (figuratively) turning people upside down and shaking them until their loose change falls out. Instead, we are saying, “Here is the work we feel called to do. You have resources and we have a mission. What can we accomplish together?”

Giving is partnership.

At AST, I get to see what that partnership can look like. A gift can become the financial aid that enables a single mother to pay her tuition while studying to become an ordained minister. Her education equips her to mentor and guide others. Imagine if the care she provides as a minister helps even one at-risk child to feel safe, one elderly person to feel less lonely, or one Sunday School student to learn to love others as Christ loved us. The gift’s value grows exponentially.

The same is true of lay faith leaders: music ministers, Sunday School directors, Parish Council volunteers, and countless others whose work strengthens their communities. Their theological education helps them become informed, confident, and compassionate leaders alongside ordained clergy. This is the kind of Christ-centred leadership AST cultivates.

The person who made the original gift may never meet all the people whose lives are touched by it. They may never know the child who felt welcomed, the parishioner who found belonging, or the future leader who found the confidence to answer a call to serve. But they helped make the work possible.

I keep returning to the parable of the mustard seed. Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches” (Matthew 13:31–32). Jesus revisits the mustard seed later in Matthew: “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move” (Matthew 17:20).

The point is not that every gift will produce a miraculous outcome. It is that something small can become much larger than itself. A gift can become an education; an education can become a vocation; a vocation can become a ministry; a ministry can influence a community; and that community can influence people we will never meet.

Perhaps we should become more comfortable talking about giving—not to boast, but to share the wonder of what becomes possible when we work together.

Fundraising, at its best, is not asking someone to give away something they need. It is inviting them to become part of something they believe in. It’s more than money.

Giving is love. It is ministry. It is partnership. It is a tiny mustard seed, placed in the soil with trust that God will decide how large it will become.

What’s in your garden?

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On behalf of AST, I would like to thank our many individual, foundation, corporate, and parish/faith community donors, as well as our founding parties, for the incredible support they give to the people who guide (and will guide) generations of people on their own faith journeys. If you would like to join them, please make a gift to AST.  

Jen Hartmann is the Manager of Philanthropy at Atlantic School of Theology in Halifax, Nova Scotia. She is also a musician and fibre artist. She lives with her husband, Nic (a current AST Master of Divinity student), their two daughters, and their two XL orange cats.

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