July 8, 2021
Like most people who’ve spent significant time in the Evangelical Church, I was taught a couple different things about money, most of which would not be helpful to me in life at all or would further damage my relationship with money.
Basically, the Church tries to cobble together this strange philosophy of money. It acknowledges that you need it in the real world, but you shouldn’t love it or obsess over it. You should find the perfect balance, never mind the fact that no one can actually quantify that balance. Further, you’re taught that rich people have a harder time entering the Kingdom of Heaven, but again, no one can really quantify “rich” since income is relative. You’re also told that even though the money resides in a bank account with your name and social security number attached, it still isn’t yours. It belongs to God, regardless of the fact that you spent forty hours of your week at the office to earn it. Going even further, the Church continues to pretend that it isn’t a business and solicits its members for tithes and donations at every opportunity, which sometimes allows the head pastor to live in a 1.4 million dollar house.
Yeah, it’s complicated.
I fell into the camp of believing that God would provide me with all the money I needed for the life that he’d already preplanned for me. So when I graduated college and got my first “real job” and my first “real paycheck” I definitely felt like God had provided. Even though my income wasn’t great, I didn’t care. At the time, it was more money than I’d ever made in my life and I “knew” that if I ever needed more money in the future, God would somehow get it to me.
One strong reason why that money was enough for me at the time was because I was a childless single guy still living with my college buddies and I never traveled. That income felt like a huge amount of wealth for that lifestyle. But as time went on, I realized I didn’t want to live that way forever. And if I wanted to “level up” then I’d need to eventually level up my income as well. But I still wasn’t worried. I figured I’d level up on God’s timing and he’d provide the means to do so.
A few years later, after I deconverted, I turned my attention back to my job and my financials. I finally admitted that no plan of God had brought me to my current financial circumstances—it had all been me. I also realized that all the money I needed or wanted to earn in the future would also be up to me. It was finally time to sort my financial structures in accordance to my plan, not God’s.
Like lifting weights helped me to correct my view of my body and my health, starting a side hustle helped me correct my relationship with money. When I made the decision to start attracting more money into my life, I found some mentors who were already successful at doing that and I learned from them. I started my side hustle and entered into a world where money was viewed very differently from how I’d learned to see it in the Church.
For one, money and profit became all-important. The side hustle can’t grow, much less continue to exist, without some profit. Earning profit meant intentionally pursuing money (ethically and honestly, of course) which I’d always been told was wrong and bad.
I had to learn to market myself, and then actually do it. That meant advertising my product to potential buyers and talking it up, presenting it well, and being proud of it. It felt so prideful and against everything I’d ever been taught.
When I did start earning a profit, it was up to me—not God—to decide what to do with the money. Pocket it to pay some bills or reinvest it back into the small business? It felt weird to not set any of it aside to tithe.
Along the way, I also learned that the main purpose of the side hustle wasn’t the money—it was bringing value to the people who bought from me. The money was just a representation of the value I was providing. It was nice, but it didn’t feel as good as the emails I got from satisfied buyers telling me how much they loved what I was doing.
In the Church, my goal, along with other Christians, was to bring value to the world. But that never actually happened. All we did was pray for people or try to convince non-believers to believe as we did so they wouldn’t go to hell. It was lazy and ineffective. Now, outside of the Church, I was finally bringing real value.
In short, getting out into the world and actually doing something and working with money really helped correct a lot of what I’d been taught about money in the Church. This is why I discuss in my book at length about how starting a side hustle or a small business is a great way for recently Deconverted Men to truly learn how to provide for themselves once they realize that God isn’t there to provide for them. I also break down the steps of how to do it.
And yes, I suggest starting a side hustle even if you have a job that pays you well. In a way, your boss is kind of like God in that he controls your income. You really don’t know if you’ll be laid off or if your company will go out of business one day. When you venture into the realm of side hustles and small business, you develop a skillset and mindset of money making, money managing, and providing value. Once learned, you’ll never have to worry about losing a steady paycheck again. You know you can provide for yourself and not depend on a boss.
I’ve said on this blog before that I think one of the most overlooked ways a faith deconstruction can damage your life is financially. This is especially true if you made your living working for a church. If you feel like your financial life or your relationship with money isn’t quite what it should be because of old Church teachings, then I can strongly recommend starting a side hustle or small business as a great way of clearing out all that negativity surrounding money and finally taking control of financial life back for yourself.
(Quick note in case you’re wondering: although I wrote and sell a book about leaving religion, this website isn’t the side hustle I’m talking about. I have a completely separate business that has nothing to do with religion and faith deconstruction).