Article
Culture
Economics
Generosity
5 min read

Be generous: pass on values and vision, not just wealth

Millennials may not earn more—but they could steward more wisely
An illustration of a family around a table looking at graph on a laptop.
Nick Jones/Midjourney.ai.

For the first time in modern history, this present generation of 28 to 43-year-olds will not achieve a higher standard of living than their parents. This is due to factors including wage stagnation, exorbitant house prices, equally exorbitant student debt, and an unstable job market.  

Paradoxically, this same generation stands to inherit the greatest amount of wealth in history. The Financial Times estimates this to be about £8.3 trillion in the U.S., £2.7 trillion in Europe, and £2.2 trillion in Asia.  

For Christian families fortunate enough to find themselves in this situation, it’s important to consider that passing on wealth is not just a financial issue, it’s a discipleship issue. And before we delve in, I want to acknowledge that not every reader will fit the traditional family model. You might be single, part of a blended family, estranged from children, or mentoring younger people instead of raising them. The principles here still apply - ‘next generation’ simply means those you influence.  

Talk about it 

One of my soap boxes is to encourage people, especially Christians, in the UK to talk more about money and giving. This becomes especially important within families who steward a lot of wealth. If parents don’t speak to their children about their wealth – what they’re doing with it and why – they run the risk of their children 

  • feeling overwhelmed by the responsibility and potentially making poor choices,  

  • not understanding or valuing their parents' heart for good stewardship and potentially squandering the wealth, 

  • doing things their own way and potentially dishonouring their parents’ wishes, or 

  • feeling resentful that they did not inherit as much as they thought they would. 

Being intentional and speaking openly as a family about your wealth will give you as parents a chance to inculcate your children with conviction about and purpose for what God has blessed you, and them, with. And it will give your children the opportunity to share their own heart and views on how to use wealth for good, as these may differ from yours.  

There is a plethora of information out there, and plenty of professional advisors who would love to be called upon to manage your wealth transfer, but, if you are a person of Christian faith, let us challenge ourselves to look to Scripture as a first point of departure.  

David and Solomon  

King David looms large as a character in the Old Testament. One of his ambitions was to build a temple for the Lord in Jerusalem. But God explicitly told him that he didn’t want David to do the building; instead, this project was to be passed on to his son, Solomon. We know that David was a very wealthy man, and that the temple building project would require vast amounts of resources, and thus, perhaps we can consider this instance as one of the great wealth transfers of ancient times. 

There are many takeaways from this story, but here are a few that stand out to me.  

David’s desire to build a temple for the Lord comes after he’s built an extravagant palace for himself. This invites a question: how many of us might come to the end of our working lives and realise we’ve had similar priorities?  

While we don’t have a way of knowing how much Solomon’s own ideas were welcomed in the planning and preparation, I think we can assume that David spent a lot of time imparting his vision and motivation to Solomon. There’s no way this kind of philanthropic project could’ve been executed otherwise.  

While this transfer started well, it didn’t end well. Solomon went on to accumulate even more wealth than his father and ended his life in a downward spiral of excess and deception. I’m not saying there is a direct correlation between inheriting wealth and getting caught in a downward spiral, but there are many temptations and pitfalls to contend with. 

There’s something to be said for timing. While one of the scripture passages that relate this story makes it sound like the handover went smoothly, another paints a very different picture. In it we see an elderly king clinging to his position and refusing to pass his mantle to Solomon until a coup by another son forces his hand.  

What can we learn from this?  

If we want our children to use their inherited wealth wisely and generously, it’s vital that they witness their parents modelling the right priorities. If I’ve pursued the accumulation of wealth more than I’ve pursued generously sharing my resources, my children are more likely to do the same. 

If we intend to pass our legacy on to our children, we must involve them in the conversation early on. And we must be careful to allow room for their own ideas lest they grow disillusioned and disengage.  

We cannot control what our children do with the wealth we give them; we can only do our best to model the right attitude before God when it comes to our resources. The best way to do this is to teach our children that everything we have comes from God and is to be used for his purposes, not for our own material excess.  

Know when to pass on the mantle. If we hang on too long, we risk opening the door to unnecessary division and conflict within our family. It’s also worth considering transferring wealth earlier rather than later in order to be philanthropically active as a family. As in a relay race, the person being passed the baton must for a time be running at the same speed as his or her predecessor.  

The great generational transfer  

When the time comes to hand over our resources and our legacy to the next generation, there are many things to consider. We’re not just handing over our money; we’re handing over all of what we’ve learned and experienced in our walk with God. I would argue that this spiritual transfer is even more significant than any other kind. For that, we have many biblical examples we can turn to: Moses and Joshua, Elijah and Elisha, Paul and Timothy, and of course, Jesus and his Church.  

Jesus told his disciples to go and make disciples of all nations, akin to what God said to Adam and Eve way back in the beginning: Be fruitful, fill the earth and exercise good stewardship over it. Our mission has always been to steward the earth, see it flourish, and point people to a relationship with God. To do this, God has put resources into our hands to be stewarded well and faithfully passed on to the next generation. It’s imperative that we do this well if our message is to be taken seriously.  

What would it look like for your family, or the next generation you influence, to steward both resources and faith together?  

 

Stewardship UK sponsors series 8 of the Re-Enchanting podcast. Find out more. 

Review
Books
Culture
Economics
Politics
5 min read

Abundance and the attempt to build a better world

Is this policy the antidote to the zero-sum game of politics?

Josh is a curate in London, and is completing a PhD in theology.

Construction worker climb a steel framework.
Josue Isai Ramos Figueroa on Unsplash.

What do you do when more money won’t solve a government’s problems? Abundance: How We Build A Better Future, the new book by Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson is an extended polemic against a form of government—particularly as practiced by US liberals—that stymies policy delivery. However technocratic that sounds (and the book often is), it forces readers to confront deeper questions about the nature of politics.  

At the heart of the book is a critique of what the authors, drawing on the film Everything Everywhere All At Once, call 'Everything Bagel Liberalism'. In the film topping are added to bagel to the point that it becomes a blackhole. So too, Klein and Thompson suggest, with so much well-intended policy, in which in seeking to tick every possible box and satisfy a range of regulators it becomes a delivery blackhole and little is actually done. The authors ask whether parties of the left are focused on measuring spending to the exclusion of measuring what gets built.  

The first chapter gives a good sense of their approach.  It tells a familiar story about the way in which so many are being priced out of cities because of a lack of affordable housing. However, in doing so, it highlights a surprising harm: that geographical proximity remains an important enabler of technological innovation so a lack of affordable housing in cities means a loss of creativity. 

The diagnosis is perhaps even more surprising coming from American liberals. Special interests—including those seeking to protect the value of their own houses—weaponize interlocking sets of well-intentioned legislation to prevent homes being built. Subsequent chapters apply that similar logic—regulation and a lack of focus resulting in inaction—to infrastructure, government capacity, scientific research and the implementation of new inventions. 

The book's strength is that it is not particularly detailed in its policy proposals. Klein and Thompson instead offer abundance as a lens through which policy development can be viewed: what do we need more of and how do we get it? This lens can be applied from within a wide range of ideological frameworks. It is not itself a worldview but a challenge that any politics should be obsessed with effective delivery not simply desiring the correct end-state.  

The book is unapologetically focused on America and the failures of progressive governance, particularly in California. (One of this book's peculiar legacies will be to leave many who have never been there perpetually invested in California's struggles to build high-speed rail.) Nevertheless, the approach already has its advocates in the UK - for example, the Centre for British Progress which set out its stall last week, and it is not hard to see how an agenda here that could be seized by a less hesitant Starmer government.  

Any plausible political analysis must hold together the reality of scarcity and abundance. Losing sight of either unmoors us from the actual world we find ourselves in.

Indeed, perhaps the book might feel more realistic if it had other countries in mind. Reviewing Abundance, Columbia economist Adam Tooze describes the book as painful to read, characterising it as a manifesto for the Harris presidency that never was. Indeed, according to the authors, the book was originally scheduled for release in summer 2024 to influence the Democratic platform leading up to the 2024 elections. Instead, it appears in 2025 amid Trump's assault on institutions, Tooze's Columbia among them.  

In an interview on Pod Save America, the authors argued that the book is still relevant, offering a framework with which Democrats can oppose Trump. Thompson described the Trumpian view of politics as fundamentally shaped by scarcity. He suggests that behind 47th president's policies—most notably the tariff agenda—is the conviction that every interaction is zero-sum; for you to gain, I must lose.  On this analysis, the way to oppose a politics that pits groups against one another over limited resources—housing, trade, jobs—is to figure out how the government can provide more and argue for it. In its critique and its hopefulness, Abundance offers those who believe in institutions a way to navigate—even work with the grain of—the anti-institutional temperament of contemporary politics.  

There might be something to this messaging, but scarcity plays an unmissable role in Klein and Thompson's argument. Remember that they characterise what they oppose as "Everything Bagel Liberalism", policy that tries to achieve every outcome and loses focus in doing so. They may conceive scarcity differently to Trump, but their book is a warning policy cannot deliver as much as we think. It is a call for us to oppose, to compete against those special interests—whether they be residents’ associations wanting to hold up house prices or politicians wanting to cut research grants—whose policy priorities overload the bagel.  

At heart, the book is a reminder that ultimately the salient scarcity in politics is not housing or trade or even money. It is time. Abundance cautions governments that unfocussed policy yields the time entrusted to them by the governed.  

Humans cannot lead politics completely beyond its zero-sum logic. The world is so often a violent competition over resources and government must restrain that violence while avoiding being co-opted as a means of exploitation.  And yet, politics is also—even primarily—an avenue through which communities answer a primal summons to be fruitful, abundant.  

Ultimately, any plausible political analysis must hold together the reality of scarcity and abundance. Losing sight of either unmoors us from the actual world we find ourselves in. Yes, there is so much broken and warped to reckon with, and we must grapple too with our finitude’s bluntness, but so too is creation replete with goodness, among them our capacity to invent and deliver what we need together. 

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