I was in a meeting several years ago with a young financial planner, and I had added “Discuss Tithe” to the client agenda. I’ll never forget the fact that my planner did not know how to pronounce the word. I was taken aback, given that this is a concept that I’ve been familiar with for what feels like my entire life. It showed me what a bubble I had grown up in, a bubble where giving 10% of your income was obligatory, not optional (lest ye be judged… not by God, by your church treasurer). Are there really people who don’t tithe?!?! Or… are there more people like me who feel constant guilt that the don’t fully tithe the expected 10%?

A quick ChatGPT search tells me that in the United States, according to recent surveys (e.g., by Barna Group, Lifeway Research, and others):

– Around 5–10% of U.S. Christians tithe a full 10% of their income.

– About 17–25% of churchgoers give regularly (not necessarily a full tithe).

– Many Christians (up to 80%) don’t tithe at all or give sporadically.

Further, evangelical Protestants tend to tithe more than other denominations.

I have to say, this is shocking to me, even though I’ve been in Financial Planning for over a decade, and my clients tax returns bear this out. I am constantly doing back of the envelope math to see if my total charitable contributions are approaching something like 10% of our income (spoiler alert, they’re not), because of the guilt I feel. My parents always gave a tithe – at least when I was old enough to notice or pay attention – and it was a meaningful sacrifice. They were raising 3 kids, predominately on one income. My Pappy-O (my paternal grandfather) taught me that tithing should be done from a place of gratitude for all that God has done for us. It turns out, when I asked my husband, he remembers no such thing from his Presbyterian upbringing. He remembers that his mom volunteered a lot of time (she really did – she passed away 35 years ago, and members of our church still speak of her contributions any time they realize our connection). But he remembers nothing being preached from the pulpit about how much to tithe, and to be honest, I don’t hear it in our sermons now either.

In my Baptist world, tithe was non-negotiable, unless you were actually in need of help from the church. In my 20s and 30s, my evangelical church did reinforce my Pappy-o’s messaging, that tithe was voluntary and done from a place of gratitude – but it was clearly and frequently preached that tithe should be “cheerful and sacrificial.”

So how much money is “cheerful and sacrificial” exactly? Some churches are clear that the expectation is 10% of your gross income. Some say that it’s 10%, but don’t specify whether that’s gross or net of taxes (any good Baptist will know exactly which is the right answer… and it’s gross). In more modern churches, the fallback to this language is more common, as younger generations feel far less compelled to give because an institution tells them so. Back to ChatGPT, only 2 – 5% of Christians under age 50 even say they tithe regularly, and this does not necessarily mean 10%. So again, what is “cheerfully and sacrificially”? And why do I carry such guilt, even shame, if I don’t hit a 10% threshold in a given year?

I love the concept of giving, and I believe in approaching money from a place of abundance. We give because we have been given so much, and there is something human in us that wants to give to and love others with our time, skills and money. To give cheerfully, to me, is to give to things you love, whether it be the church, the arts, emergency relief efforts, and to give because you truly desire to make a difference.

What about the sacrifice part? How much should feel like enough? Like so many things that in the world of financial advice, I know that there’s no one size fits all answer. It matters what I think is sacrificial. It matters what my family agrees upon. And I’ll be honest – I don’t know the answer for me, for my family. What must be sacrificed? 401(k) savings? Or dance lessons? Vet bills? A vacation? Or just new shoes for work? I haven’t a clue. But I can live with cheerfully, for now. I can live with that.

I love to talk to people about the meaning of money. If you’re also one of those people, I’m right here.