Article
Comment
Economics
Generosity
5 min read

This year’s Budget won’t define your future

Dare to be generous in a time of constraint
Rachel Reeves holds a red briefcase up.
Chancellor Rachel Reeves preps.

There’s been much speculation about what Chancellor Reeves will announce on November 26, and it seems the country is holding its collective breath, fearing the worst. As a nation we’ve been privy to the disorganised to-ing and fro-ing of our politicians for a while now (but to be fair to the current government, waffling and backtracking aren’t unique to them).  

For many weeks, the political news reporting hinted strongly at Reeves breaking her election promise and raising income tax. With less than two weeks to go, Reeves decided to scrap the idea of raising income tax, which I’m sure is a relief to many. But the fact that she was steadfastly planning to go back on her word before retreating at the last minute does little to nurture public confidence.  

So, we’re left in a fog of uncertainty and confusion, with very little good economic news to look forward to. Do I paint a bleak picture?  

The real question is, how should I respond as a Christian?  

Living in tension 

So much of the Christian faith is about holding two seemingly contradictory truths in tension. We live in the natural world with all of its limitations, but we also live in a supernatural reality (what Christians call the Kingdom of God) where naturally impossible things become possible.  

One of the tensions surrounding this Autumn Budget – and our present moment – is that despite the government clearly not being able to offer viable solutions, the public’s dependence and expectation on the government to offer such solutions seems to be increasing. The result is perpetual disappointment in our politicians.  

But this shouldn’t surprise us. Democracy’s biggest weakness is that elected politicians are incentivised to say they are making decisions for our benefit, all the while making decisions that are in their own best interest in order to stay in power, offering the public the occasional short-term win at the expense of long-term gain.  

God operates in a different way entirely. He genuinely plays the long game for humanity’s benefit. Though at times it may appear that he is slacking on his promises (i.e. why is there so much sickness and abuse in the world if he is our healer and protector?), but he holds the big picture in mind. We might ask for something and not get it, but he will give us something better because he knows what we really need. He might allow us to fall flat on our faces, but he has a bigger redemption plan waiting for us. Our earthly government does not.  

In that light, we can trust God when his arm appears to be too short, because we know that he will work all things together for our good. His character does not change and His principles aren’t sacrificed on the altar of survival. He’s seen the end from the beginning, and he is committed to his purposes and plans. Unlike our earthly government, God is able to provide above and beyond what we can ask or think. He is able to supernaturally multiply meagre resources. He is able to make a way where there seems to be no way.  

The hard part is, he does require of us to walk in trust and obedience. But this is what true freedom is.   

Dominion  

For Christians, this bleak economic environment presents a great opportunity to be encouraging personal agency and creativity. This is a time to be leaning into entrepreneurship and collaboration, a time to challenge the pervasive narrative of scarcity. In other words, it’s a great time to exercise dominion to a greater degree than we ever have before.  

Considering how badly various parts of the Church have handled this mandate throughout history, it’s understandable that the word dominion might raise a few eyebrows. I want to be clear that dominion is not another word for imperialism or colonialism or any other ‘ism’ that seeks to exercise control over people. Biblically, exercising dominion means to make all of creation flourish, to create order out of chaos, and to bring all things under the Lordship of Jesus Christ. It’s what God commanded human beings to do at the very beginning of our existence, and it’s what Jesus reaffirmed in the Great Commission.  

We do this by modelling a Kingdom way of doing things that brings about righteous results. We do this by thinking differently, by being transformed by the renewing of our minds. We do this by moving in the opposite spirit to the one that is driving the rest of the world.  

Generosity 

We cannot exercise Godly dominion without pressing into generosity. This one is hard, because as so many of us can attest to, budgets are tight, our pay checks aren’t reaching as far as they used to, and it’s incredibly tempting to give in to fear and worry that we won’t have enough. I certainly struggle with this.  

The tension is: when we believe that our God is generous beyond measure, we confidently take a step of faith to continue giving. With the complete understanding that how much we give may need to vary depending on what kind of season we’re in, the truth is that we have resources to share, monetary or otherwise.  

I want to emphasise that generosity isn’t just about giving money. It’s a much fuller picture that furthers the ministry of reconciliation. By giving of all that we have and are, including our time, our hospitality, our attention, our emotions, and our power, we are inviting people into a reconciled relationship with God and man. Our generosity should ultimately be about reflecting the profoundly generous nature of God and the way He consistently brings hope and restoration where things have been badly broken.  

Our response 

It’s crucial to remember that we cannot reflect God’s generous nature without the Holy Spirit. He is present to help us discern how to make God’s Kingdom known in this fog of uncertainty and confusion. He is with us and will lead us.  

We don’t know what’s ahead; the Autumn Budget may or may not have a significant impact on your situation. But if you’re feeling worried about how your finances are going to stretch to the end of the month, God is with you in your lack. And if you’re feeling secure in your ability to remain financially comfortable and weather the storms, God is with you in your abundance.  

Regardless of which category we find ourselves in, our best response is to hold things lightly before the Lord, knowing that everything we have is from him, and everything we have is to be stewarded for his glory.  

Ultimately, our freedom isn’t determined by government policy or the Autumn Budget. Neither is our freedom determined by how much or how little financial security we have. Our freedom is found in maintaining a posture of trust and obedience, and a heart that dares to be generous in a time of constraint. 

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

Snippet
Comment
Economics
Football
Redemption
3 min read

From transferring footballers to AI talent, we over-value each other

Building our value on cashflow crumbles our self-esteem


Jamie is Vicar of St Michael's Chester Square, London.

Three Manchester United footballers with their arms around each others backs.
Mert0804, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons.

Premier League footballers not only have millions of pounds, but millions of accountants. Yes, that's right: I've had my morning coffee and the editor didn't miss that sentence. There are millions of armchair accountants. You know, the bean counters many of us effortlessly transform into when it's transfer season. 

Pick your channel - everyone seems to be asking 'is Rasmus Højlund really worth that much?' Your heart mightn't bleed for him - as he is handsomely compensated - but at least spare a thought for him and the crushing weight of critics and their expectations of his performance.  

Footballers aren't alone. Whether it's bankers' bonuses, the excesses of the offers to top AI engineers… OpenAI CEO Sam Altman claims that Meta have offered his employees bonuses of $100 million to recruit them. Other recent valuations of companies have raised $1 and $2 billion. The Economist says that AI valuations are 'verging on the unhinged’. 

Armchair accountants actually look a lot like jurors. But who are we to judge? The figures might seem silly money, but the stakes are higher than fantasy football or Monopoly. In Build the Life You Want, Arthur Brooks and Oprah Winfrey call out the way we objectify people at work over performance or pay:  

'It’s pretty easy to see why we shouldn’t objectify others. Less obvious but equally troubling is when the objectifier and the person being objectified are one and the same—when you objectify yourself.'  

Building our value on cashflow, Instagram likes and the like crumbles our self-esteem and all the health and social issues that come with that. In the arena of our own workplace, they write that self-objectification 'is a tyranny. We become a terrible boss to ourselves, with little mercy or love.’ 

You only have to peer into the comments section any any online article (not just sport) to see how callous and unforgiving apparently polite, middle-class society has become. It's hard not to have the sneaking suspicion that our devaluing of others thinly veils the way we've devalued ourselves. 

The way out of this is to detach our value from our pay and work. So, take Rasmus Højlund, transferred to Manchester United in 2023 for £64million. I would argue his worth is a lot more than £64 million. But that is because his performance, for this exercise, is irrelevant. This is not a new notion. For millennia, the Christian notion of grace is not only the entry-point of faith, but the operating system, with perfect performance already having been achieved by a saviour. The 'ultimate price', paid by God, is of such immeasurable worth and value that Rasmus, or any of us, are worth significantly more than £64million. 

But then the problem arises that Christians can still struggle with feeling like an expensive disappointment, unable to live up to the spiritual 'transfer fee'. Is it really worth me accepting the biblical claims of the price paid by Jesus on the cross if I just pile on guilt? Well, if you feel like a star signing, you've probably missed the point. But equally, if you feel like a flop, there's the need to recognise that value and worth was never rooted in your performance in the first place. There's a very different set of rules. It's not a zero-sum game of competition where players and managers are ruthlessly eliminated. The Bible paints the picture of a God not so much ruthless as he is reckless. 

When Jesus tells the parable of the prodigal son, squandering his father's wealth, only to be welcomed, restored and celebrated with open arms, the word 'prodigal' that's been attached to this parable even more appropriately describes the father: 'recklessly extravagant' and 'having spent everything'. Whatever our own estimations – or those of others – actually don't matter. £64million might feel like an absurd and unreal amount of money – but it isn't Monopoly money. Those figures have actually been transferred. And just because we can't see or feel the price that has been paid, doesn't make it any less real or consequential. Not only is your guilt traded away from you, but your rights to self-judge. 

Support Seen & Unseen

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,500 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief