Religion

When the collection plate drifts her way, passed along by a sea of hands from one end of the pew to the other, Stephanie Murphy starts balancing the family checkbook in her head.

She subtracts the house payment and the car payment, the electricity bills and the credit card bills. She mentally deducts her daughter's day care and remembers that her son needs new soccer cleats.

Murphy thinks about when she'll need to buy groceries again and how much gas is in her SUV. She thinks so much that by the time the collection plate is handed to her, she's in a silent panic.

"I get real overwhelmed, but it all depends on the day of the month," says the 42-year-old single mother. "If it's the first, I'll have some cash. If it's the end of the month, I'll usually write a check and hope it doesn't clear for a few days. But if it's the middle of the month … sometimes I'll just say a little prayer and promise to make it up next time.

"But I'm never able to keep that promise."

Murphy regularly attends one of the larger Baptist churches in Anniston and in the parking lot after Sunday services, she hears the whispers from other members, those who simply cannot afford to give as much as they once did.

"And there's a lot of guilt," says Murphy, who didn't want to mention her church specifically. "It's not the church's fault. They depend on donations, but with gas prices, then mortgage rates and now all the troubles on Wall Street … people are worried.

"Going to church shouldn't be stressful, but everybody's feeling it."

Times, as they say, are tough all over.

Murphy's weekly moral dilemma is a glimpse into the fear and trepidation felt by many in the midst of a financial crisis. And within that maelstrom of uncertainty, churches are expected to offer shelter from the storm. But that responsibility can become a challenge when these safe havens are their own facing financial concerns.

"It's too early to see the real hit that churches are taking," says Sid Nichols, director of missions for the Calhoun Baptist Association. "It all started with the gas prices. When gas was up to around $4, that was a tremendous blow to a lot of our churches."

Nichols has witnessed the reverberations from the financial upheaval by the numbers of needy families that visit the association's various Baptist Service Centers seeking food, clothing and emergency funding to help pay utility bills.

"Traffic in our service centers has tripled," he says, "because people were spending their food money on gas to get to work and then didn't have any money to eat on."

But it's not only the poor who've been affected.

Nichols has heard the worried rumblings from many pastors who lost "tremendous" amounts of money from their Southern Baptist Convention retirement funds, including Nichols who lost at least a year's worth of retirement himself.

"And that's not unique to the ministry," he says. "We've got some men who were getting ready to retire that will now have to keep on working."

Of the 87 churches within the Calhoun Baptist Association, more than half are led by bi-vocational ministers. Many of those are serving smaller congregations made up largely of senior citizens living on fixed incomes. Because members may have less to give, the churches will have to make some tough budget decisions, perhaps cutting programs, eliminating or delaying building projects or rearranging services to save money any way they can.

Overall, the association has experienced a 4 percent drop in donations as compared to October of 2007.

"The church is just like a family budget," Nichols says. "They've got to find a way to make it work. They're using their heads, adjusting where they can and finding a way to get by … just like everybody else."

Much like Nichols with the Baptist churches, Will Willimon has heard similar concerns among the United Methodist Churches. As bishop for the North Alabama Conference, Willimon supervises hundreds of churches, among those reactions to the financial crisis have been "mixed" he says.

Some are more nervous than others, particularly those suburban churches in and around Birmingham and Huntsville where pastors are hearing frequent stories of young professionals being laid off and who suddenly can't pay their mortgages.

"And on the other hand, we've got churches that've been in recession for two decades," he says with a humorless laugh. "They appear less vulnerable and some are even seeing an increase in attendance."

From an administrative perspective, Willimon acknowledges that some corners will have to be cut. The conference recently approved a meager 1 percent budget increase — it's lowest in recent memory.

"It's all in anticipation that revenues will be down in the coming year," Willimon says. "But no matter what is to come … we're not cutting missions or benevolence work one cent."

Nationally, the outlook is every bit as unsettling.

Kurt Barnes, treasurer of the 2.2 million-member Episcopal Church, said in a recent Associated Press story that the value of the denomination's endowment funds, which covers 5 percent of the annual budget, has declined by 30 percent this year.

The United Methodist General Board of Global Ministries, which oversees humanitarian aid and evangelizing for the 11 million-member denomination, has cut next year's budget by $2 million, reducing it to $58 million, because of a decline in investment income.

But a shaky economy doesn't always translate into an empty collection plate.

The Christian research group Empty Tomb, Inc. recently published a report that studied six recessions since 1968 and found that donations declined in three and increase by three. Another study by Giving USA Foundation found that chuch-based donations fell slightly in six of 11 recession years since 1968.

But when it comes to tithing to their local congregations, people of faith seem to be largely consistent. For example, the Southern Baptist Convention reports October contributions have increased 20 percent, topping out at more than $17 million.

"All giving is local," say Jim Sheppard, chief executive of Generis, a consulting firm that helps churches plan fundraising campaigns. "People will give all over the world, but when crunch time comes, they'll give locally, and nothing's more local than church."

This certainly seems to hold true amongst Calhoun County churches. Though their congregation may be anxious about the state of the economy, local pastors agree that most of their members are finding a way to continue giving, using it as a means to grow in their faith.

"As Christians, we're focused on things that are not of this world," says Phillip Morris, pastor of Heflin First Baptist Church. "For the most part, we're hopeful that things will turn around.

"People need to remember that, as the saying goes, 'You never see an armored car in a funeral procession.' "

Though donations may be down somewhat compared to last year, Morris shies away from contributing it solely to recent financial failures on Wall Street and beyond.

"Might just be that it's football season and people are traveling more," Morris says. "It usually picks back up in November."

Morris is confident that his congregation will successfully ride out this current wave of uncertainty. So much so that Heflin First Baptist Church is going ahead with its long-range plan for building a new family life center as well as renovations to its Sunday school rooms.

"We're always thinking and planning ahead, getting ready to grow," he says. "We're cautious but optimistic about what the future holds. The money's really not a major concern."

In times of crisis, in times of concern, people of faith turn to the church for stability, which is why many local pastors say they've noticed an increase in attendance.

"People want to get closer to the Lord," says Rick Reaves, pastor of Hill Crest Baptist Church. "Our numbers right now are greater than they've ever been. We had 42 people saved last week … that's what God is doing for us."

And when people are scared, when those material possessions suddenly become fragile and fleeting, it can serve as a wake-up call, reminding all of what is truly important.

"God is judging America by the way we've lived," Reaves says. "People that have faith will be drawn closer to God because they'll find themselves depending on his guidance more and more."

This is why some believe recent economic shifts could be something of a blessing in disguise.

"As Christians, we worship a savior that had some pretty severe things to say about money, the accumulation of wealth and riches," Willimon says. "Christianity is a redemptive religion.

"We've got a God that takes the worst of things — like the cross — and transforms that into a gift."