4. Lighten Up on Subsidies

Many churches subsidize the cost of youth retreats, camps, concerts, and special events to make these activities more affordable to their students. It’s a great idea—indeed, many students would be excluded from significant ministry experiences without such assistance. But when the church chips in $20 so that a healthy, middle-class, cash-rich kid (wearing a $100 pair of shoes) can go on a $40 retreat, something is wrong.

Subsidies can also mess up your students’ perceptions of value. For example, students know that most live concert tickets cost $10 to $50. So when you subsidize their $10 Christian concert ticket down to $5, they may figure that Christian music is half as good as “real” music or that the church is just rich and can afford to pay people to attend.

In the real world, if your product is too expensive for your customers, you cut costs and lower your price—or convince your customers that your product is worth the higher price or find new customers or go out of business. If most of your students can’t afford an activity, you have the same choices:

A. Choose a more affordable activity.

B. Convince them that this activity is worth more than whatever else they spend money on.

C. Start a ministry to rich kids.

D. Choose a new career.

You see the problem already. Most of us choose option B; but when our last-minute marketing blitz fails to muster the minimum in sign-ups, we cancel the activity, eat the camp deposit or the concert tickets and start pondering option D.

Next time, pick an affordable activity, charge the real price, and make sure the program is worth every dollar. Save your subsidies for the few who really need them.

5. Unload Excess Stuff

The first time you moved away from your parents’ home, you didn’t own much. Maybe you packed a suitcase or two with clothing and filled a few cardboard boxes with trophies, photo Albums, and your music collection.

Your next move was tougher—you had to borrow a friend’s pickup to carry everything, including those nifty shelves you made from boards and bricks, plus the junk your roommate left behind when he moved out in the middle of the night without paying rent. A few moves and several roommates later, you’re renting a U-Haul truck and bribing strong-backed friends with pizza and promises you’ll return the favor on their next move.

Now you’ve reached the point where they won’t rent you a truck big enough to move all your stuff because you’re not licensed to drive a semi. So you hire a moving company. As you’re boxing up your 53rd carton of possessions, you ask yourself, Do I really need to own all this stuff?

Part of you is saying there’s nothing wrong with owning so many things—they make life easier and more enjoyable. But another part of you (including your lower back), questions whether you might be happier with less: less clutter, fewer headaches, lower costs for fixing and mending (something is always breaking) and less worry about stuff being stolen.

Here’s an idea: Get rid of it. Not all of it—just the stuff for which you really can’t think of a compelling reason to hold on to. Go through the closets and cabinets, shelves and cupboards, looking for anything that isn’t essential. With each suspect item, ask yourself this question:

Would my life be worse off without it?

If the answer is no, put it in a “pass it on” pile. Now pack it up and pass it on to the Salvation Army. (Safety tip: If you’re married, make sure your spouse has a chance to veto your decisions—or you may find yourself at the thrift store, buying back your own possessions.)

When you’ve cleaned house, tell your students about the experience and encourage them to do the same. Then get a smaller home to fill with your reduced possessions and call for a discount in your insurance because there’s less to burn, bash and burgle. In fact, now you can have the junior high group over for a lock-in.