The Business of Grace

At yesterday’s staff meeting, Christ Church Chief Operating Officer Wendy Mauney shared this devotion. It spoke deeply to us. I hope it will speak to you too.

"And God has placed in the church first of all apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracles, then gifts of healing, helping, administration, and various kinds of tongues.”

– 1 Corinthians 12:28

This verse is one of my favorites… because it’s one of the few that explicitly names the gift of administration as something God has placed in the church.

I return to it in moments of doubt – when I wonder how impactful my work really is. I’m not preaching. I’m not teaching. I’m not providing pastoral care. I’m not “on the front lines” inspiring, evangelizing, or ministering. This verse reminds me that administration is not just a skill – it’s a gift, and one that God has intentionally placed in the church. I’m also encouraged in those moments by something Chip says… a large part of the word administration is ministry.

Earlier this year, I found my work affirmed in a different way at the Episcopal Parish Network conference. There’s a tradition on the last night of the conference – our staff who are attending go out to dinner together. It’s one of my favorite parts of the whole conference. Time away from the schedule and the sessions, time with people I know, respect, and love. A night for storytelling. For laughter. For being reminded why we love doing this work together.

This year, Joan, Natalie, Joshua, Allen, and I went to dinner. Allen and I ended up sitting next to each other, and we got to talking about poetry. Now… Allen has a real love and wisdom for poetry. I… well, this may come to as a shock to some of you, but I don’t really get poetry. Still, the conversation reminded me that every gift – whether poetic or practical – has a place at the table.

What we didn’t know was that Joshua was listening in. Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, he decided to ask ChatGPT to write a poem – for a church business administrator.

When he shared it with the table, I have to tell you… it went straight to my heart. I’ve added it to my small but treasured list of things that remind me why my work matters. It was one of those moments where something unexpected – a poem, a dinner, a conversation – becomes a quiet affirmation that your calling is seen, valued, and deeply needed.

I’ve since shared it with other church administrators – and it’s moved them, too.

Today, I’d like to share that poem with you.

The Business of Grace

I count the coins,

square the ledgers,

turn the gears of budgets and payroll,

while the clergy speak of manna,

of loaves multiplying in unseen hands.

They pray for provision;

I draft the pledge report.

They dream of open doors;

I remind them of fire codes.

They speak of the Spirit moving – 

as if spreadsheets had no breath,

as if balance sheets were not

their own kind of gospel.

At the staff table, they talk in parables,

and I listen for policy.

They call it a calling;

I call it an agreement – 

terms we must honor,

benefits we must provide.

They shepherd;

I guard the gate,

knowing even the ninety-nine

require insurance.

Some days I envy them – 

their hands lifted in blessing,

their words thick with mystery.

Mine are full of minutes,

of capital campaigns, of contracts

that whisper, “Not yet, not yet, not yet.”

But still, I trace the numbers

like a monk’s slow script,

believing that a budget,

too, can be a kind of psalm,

that to steward this house

is also a prayer – 

a silent and stubborn Amen.