Physical Giving and Liturgy

As one of the older members of Gen Z, my life is dominated by smartphones, buzzes, and notifications. The conveniences of recent technologies have seeped their way into every crevice of my day-to-day. Like many of my peers, I find myself desiring something real and outside the digital. I notice the attention economy is designed to first take my eyes, then my peace, and finally, through the chaos and distractions it produces, it takes my money. I try to push back against this trend, but I can’t ignore a concerning consensus developing in the Church. There is a major push to have all parish giving be dominated by technology. I think this is a mistake. While there are many strengths to electronic giving, the drawbacks cannot be understated.

Like many Catholics my age, I’ve found that if I want to participate in the liturgical life of the Church, I need to leave my phone in the car (or better yet: at home). Why? Because the little black rectangle demands my time and attention with chirps and all the addictive quality of a Vegas slot machine, it’s antithetical to what I am looking for at mass. The Catholic faith, in contrast, is carnal and tangible, real, ancient, and full of peace. The offertory, therefore, is not something that we merely watch, but actively participate within. It only follows that a physical act of giving fits most naturally into this liturgical view of worship and connects me to the sacrifice of the Mass. This is why I began to give my donations physically, intentionally, and (much like the environment around me) peacefully.

In many people's minds, electronic giving represents the next logical step in the technological progression of charitable giving: donation boxes gave way to envelopes, which in turn should give way to smartphones and payment processing apps. This is the popular line of modern thinking. Electronic giving methods certainly have the benefit of convenience, removing friction from giving by automating the process and helping the parish better project finances, but they have flaws that are often not considered.

Recurring donations remove the act of giving from the sacrament. In my mind, this changes the offering into a bill or subscription service, i.e. something that is designed to be forgotten about. The offertory goes from a gift I am giving now out of love to something I did a while ago, and now it appears next to my monthly Netflix™ bill. The “set it and forget it” attitude is good for consistent revenue projections and free subscription trials that hope you never return to cancel. However, while the purpose of almsgiving and tithing is to support the poor and the church, it is also a personal act, from me to my parish. Setting and forgetting removes the personal weight and intentionality that is carried by the act of giving.

On the other hand, physically pulling a phone out in the middle of Mass for a one-time donation places an actual barrier, designed to entirely consume my attention, between me and heaven meeting earth in the re-presentation of the crucifixion. While one of the sacramental mysteries of our faith is before me, the muscle memory of scrolling and liking threatens to absorb my attention at the very moment when my attention ought to be on the altar.

The importance of giving extends past simply keeping the lights on in the parish; it is a physical act of worship in a physical location. As the younger generations come into their own, I notice many of us are recognizing that we have grown up in a digital desert and are searching for a well of fresh water to draw from. We want to monetarily support our Parish not because it is easy, not because it is convenient, but because it physically draws us deeper into the life of the Church and the Love of Christ. While “set it and forget it” donations remove the donation from the liturgy, and one-time phone donations remove my attention, physical donations draw me deeper into the sacrifice before me.

Physical donations are not a thing of the past but a way to connect us in a more fruitful way to our giving in the present. It is a small change that pulls me out of the attention economy and draws my attention into the liturgy before me.