Why My Grandma Struck the Church out of Her Will (and Replaced It with a For-Profit Company)
Article originally hosted and shared with permission by The Christian Economic Forum, a global network of leaders who join together to collaborate and introduce strategic ideas for the spread of God’s economic principles and the goodness of Jesus Christ. This article was from a collection of White Papers compiled for attendees of the CEF Global Event.
At CEF, we’re blessed to be a part of a community that challenges the status quo. This paper is significantly different than my two previous efforts.
This paper and my grandma’s decision prompt a critical question: Are churches and non-profit ministries the only way money can be used to build the kingdom of God? I chose a provocative title, but I am at least attempting to write with humility. There is much incredible kingdom work happening through traditional churches and traditional ministries that are worthy of capital. This paper and my grandmother’s decision are less about diminishing these forms of kingdom building and more about promoting an alternative route, one that is being increasingly represented by incredible members and businesses in the CEF community. Perhaps many of these are also worthy homes for kingdom-building capital. My grandmother certainly believed so, and in her final days, she put her treasure where she wanted her heart to be also, with the kingdom builders.
Here’s my tribute I shared at her funeral. [Elaine Elsberry]
How do you measure the value of a life well-lived?
In my grandmother’s obituary, one word stood out to me more than any other word…curiosity. Certain words have immense power and require thousands of others to explain. “Curious” is certainly one. Like Grandma, it brings a host of descriptors to mind. She was a tiny giant, open to learning something new for every one of her 35,000+ days. She had this uncanny, erudite way of using her curiosity to inspire and draw out your own.
Words hold no respect for the strong and mighty; her tiny, 90-pound frame could break down walls and destroy kingdoms. Words could transport her mind far beyond the stamina of her body. She could teleport with her mind as effortlessly as she could turn the next page of her book.
In a word, she was curious. And her tenacious curiosity made her a tireless force for good—yes, for worship. In ancient Jewish culture, the highest form of worship was knowledge. What more respect/honor could you give someone other than to learn everything about them? And if this is indeed God’s world, and each author ever to have put pen to paper is His child, then each word is a holy utterance—a fragment of a clue in the cosmic story God is constantly unveiling about Himself.
And Grandma drank deeply from this well.
She was insatiable—and darned if not more contagious than Covid.
I was one of the lucky ones to have caught her curiosity. Many others did, too.
Countless times she would throw out a thought, “What do you think God means by…” or, “Why do you suppose God allows….” I ache to remember those questions, to be surprised by the unveiling of a cosmic record with constant availability of those precious, finite, fleeting moments, made even more valuable by their expiration.
If you had the privilege of having one of those conversations with my grandma, you’d know that after careful reflection on the ensuing discussion, she would usually lean forward and say: “Well I suppose…” before delivering a powerful truth.
I guess I always knew it in my heart, but it took her death for me to realize that she was one of my favorite people in the world with whom to have a chat.
God, I wish for just one more of those conversations. Like a spoiled child, I took for granted the delicacies that I could have called upon at any moment, and yet too often did not.
I chose my words carefully around Grandma—not out of fear but out of respect. Each word holds meaning, and I could count on her to contemplate each one and assign value to it.
She upped my game. Her curiosity would often expose weak logic or unchiseled thoughts. Sometimes while talking with her, I would find myself outside of myself, examining my own thoughts, questioning their merit. I often would concede, “I guess I’m not sure,” after conversations with Grandma.
And it’s for this reason I suppose curiosity usually precedes humility. It’s hard not to be humble when you are constantly learning.
I threw some crazy ideas at her these last few years:
That God doesn’t only build His kingdom through church as we currently define it but wants to use business as well.
That 99% of our available wealth is invested in companies that care nothing for the kingdom of God, while we put what equates to a fraction of a penny into “the kingdom” through charitable investments.
That we largely let the US government dictate what constitutes a “kingdom-building” gift through its tax legislation.
And she was remarkably unfazed. She even cheered me on as I sought to help build a for-profit company that was committed to building the kingdom of God, showing up week after week after week to our company prayer time. And as an affront to the status quo, one last cannonball of curiosity, she did something many would consider scandalous. She struck out the traditional church from her will and penned in our for-profit company—one last big hug and encouragement from even beyond the grave. “I approve grandson. And I’m proud of you. Use that tenacious curiosity of your own to challenge the giants in front of you.”
This was an overwhelming thought to me. The most curious person I knew had dropped a fat stamp of approval on my own curiosity. These ideas my curiosity had led me to were more than ideas, they were worth the money she had reserved for the kingdom of God. And in her final days, she decided that LivFul (our company) was a better bet for growing the kingdom of God than her traditional church was.
This is no small thing, and while I tremble at the weight of the implication, I’m also glad for shoulders larger than mine who carry it (and us along with it).
I love you Grandma, and thanks to you, I have renewed strength to persist. You will forever be a part of me and my calling to demonstrate the building of the kingdom of God through business.
You are forever part of LivFul, and our legacy is surely yours as well.
I suppose my grandma threw down a bit of a gauntlet here. If you’re a business leader, the challenge is to make your business a worthy place for housing kingdom capital. Would you feel comfortable receiving a donation in lieu of it going to a church? If not, why not? I can assure you that there is no difference in how God views money entrusted to either…it’s clearly all His.
At LivFul, we don’t take this gift lightly. My grandma believed we could steward the money better than her church, and that’s quite the bar to live up to.
At the end of the parable of the talents, the man who had turned five into ten tried to give the money back to the master. “Thanks, but no thanks,” he said. “Please keep managing it for me.”
May we endeavor to build the kind of businesses that are so exemplary of the Kingdom of God that, when we try to hand the money back to God, He says the same. “You’re doing well! Keep stewarding this for me.”