Tell Out My Soul – Stewardship at Trinity

Tell out my soul. Not as a slogan. As a movement—your movement—rising from the gut like Mary’s burst of praise that refuses to stay small (Luke 1:46–47, NRSV). Our stewardship theme at Trinity Episcopal Church, Moundsville isn’t fundraising gloss. It’s a summons. God is telling a story through you, and the next chapter depends on your yes.

Why this theme matters now

Luke’s Gospel opens with Mary’s defiant song and closes with another Mary, the first witness commissioned to share resurrection news. Announcement and awakening. Promise and proof. That double-bookend isn’t literary flourish; it’s a pattern for life in God—receive good news, then tell it out with your whole self. Our stewardship introduction letter from Fr. Tommy said it plainly: we are storytellers in an ongoing, living narrative, and this year’s campaign is an invitation to name the good news God has planted in you and to offer it for the blessing of neighbors.

Stewardship, then, is not a seasonal ask. Stewardship is how we cooperate with God’s dream for Marshall County and beyond. God chooses partnership, not puppetry. God’s future leans toward us, and our response—our wisdom, our wealth, our works—tilts creation toward hope.

Three strands, one offering

1) Wisdom

Stewardship of wisdom means giving the best of your discernment, experience, imagination, and voice. You’ve learned things—on the job, in classrooms, in grief, in recovery, in aging, in parenting, in prayer. Hoarded wisdom stagnates. Offered wisdom multiplies.

  • Teach a class. Host a kitchen-table conversation after coffee hour. Mentor a confirmand.
  • Join the vestry or a ministry team and bring your honest questions and clear-eyed insight.
  • When a decision faces us—budget, building, outreach—lend your perspective, not as a critic from the bleachers but as a teammate on the field.
  • Share testimonies. The letter asked, “What is your Good News?” Tell it. Your story might be the green light someone else needed.

Wisdom stewardship says: God speaks through the community. We listen, we test, we decide, we act. That’s holy.

2) Wealth

Yes—money. Let’s be direct. Our parish is a spiritual home and a mission outpost. Heat doesn’t pay for itself. Lights don’t glow on gratitude alone. Choir music, children’s formation, pastoral care, local outreach, diocesan partnership, the sanctuary you love, the staff who serve—every one of these depends on generous, consistent financial support.

Scripture’s ancient practice is the tithe: 10% of income dedicated to God. Many of us aren’t there yet; some are beyond it. What matters is proportional giving—choosing a percentage prayerfully, committing to it, and letting generosity grow as God grows you. No guesswork. No leftover thinking. Pick a percentage that is real for you and set it as your pledge. Then revisit it yearly as capacity and courage expand.

  • If you’ve never pledged, start with 2% or 3%.
  • If you’re already giving proportionally, consider a step—say, +1% this year.
  • If you’re at or above a tithe, thank you. Your leadership stabilizes and stretches our ministry.

Why be this clear? Because our financial life is also discipleship. We don’t serve two masters. We practice freedom by putting God, not anxiety, in charge of our budgets. Proportional pledging becomes a monthly spiritual habit—quiet, stubborn, liberating.

3) Works

Your hands matter. Your time matters. We are a parish of altar guild saints and casserole heroes, pew-menders and prayer warriors, tech helpers and youth mentors. Works stewardship is where rubber meets road.

  • Volunteer for Sunday ministries: greeter, lector, acolyte, choir, coffee hour.
  • Join pastoral care—notes, visits, rides, and meals.
  • Give hours to outreach partners.
  • Offer your craft: carpentry, graphic design, grant writing, gardening, photography, bookkeeping.

This isn’t busywork. It’s incarnation. Love needs bodies. And when we say “Body of Christ,” we mean yours.

Proportional giving—how it works (and why it changes everything)

Proportional giving is spiritually honest. It scales with reality. If income tightens, your percentage stays faithful even if the dollar amount shifts. If income grows, your gift grows automatically. It’s fair, sustainable, and anchored in prayer.

Try this:

  1. Pray first. Ask, “God, what percentage reflects trust and purpose this year?”
  2. Choose a number that is both responsible and brave.
  3. Pledge it. Automate it if you can. Treat it like your mortgage or utilities—because it underwrites a mission greater than any single bill.
  4. Review annually. Spiritual muscles strengthen with use.

What our pledge funds: worship that lifts souls; formation that grounds us; pastoral care that holds the hurting; music that heals; a building that shelters; partnerships that bless our town; diocesan and wider-church ministries that we could never fund alone. Your giving keeps the gospel local and the table open.

“Tell Out My Soul” at Trinity—your story belongs here

Our campaign asks each of us to answer two questions the letter raised:

  • What good news is God growing in you?
  • How will you share it—through wisdom, wealth, and works—so others can live?

Bring your answer into the life of this church. Write a brief testimony we can share during the campaign. Make your pledge a proportion, not a guess. Mark your calendar: pledge cards are due the first Sunday of Advent—because we’re not waiting for someone else to fund the future. We are it.

A concrete path forward

  • Pray. Use Mary’s words as your breath prayer this month: “My soul magnifies the Lord.” Let it recalibrate your desires (Luke 1:46–47, NRSV).
  • Choose your percentage. If you need help building a plan, we’ll walk with you.
  • Make your pledge. Put it in writing. Consistency powers ministry.
  • Offer your wisdom. Step into a team or start a conversation you’ve been carrying.
  • Offer your works. Pick one ministry and commit your time for the year.

God is already moving in our neighborhood—through hospital rooms and classrooms, on front porches and food pantry lines, across grief groups and choir lofts. The Spirit doesn’t bulldoze; the Spirit invites. And every time we respond—every time we give proportionally, offer our insight, show up with sleeves rolled—the future bends toward mercy.

Tell out your soul, Trinity. Loud. Specific. Unapologetic. Let’s give like people who believe resurrection is still happening—because it is.