Turning the Job You Have into the Job You Want

The Unexpected Sales Workshop

When Norma Landry, an administrator in a small religious denomination, rang my office a few months ago, she sounded more like a woman in distress than the calm church official she was in public. She was an admin, not a salesperson. She had never sold a cold drink to anyone in her life, let alone an entire congregation. Yet her bishop, looking for a new flavor for the annual colloquium, had asked her to reach out to me for a workshop titled “Filling the Glass.” The twist? He wanted it specifically for the church’s salespeople – the ministers who also handled tithes and offerings.

“I’ve never sold ice water in Hell,” Norma said, half‑laughing. “I think I’m as far from a salesperson as a preacher can be.” She went on to explain that her bishop had become obsessed with numbers. “All we measure now is money. I’m the one doing the measuring. Every time a minister asks me to raise their collections, I’m on the phone, reminding them, following up, tweaking tactics. It’s exhausting.”

Norma’s frustration stemmed from a deeper change in leadership style. The former bishop had seen success through spiritual growth – souls saved, sermons resonated. The new bishop, however, seemed to have a spreadsheet in his pocket. “It’s all about metrics,” he’d say. “If we don’t track dollars, we’re not fulfilling our mission.” He had no hesitation in asking me to bring a sales mentality into a group that had never seen a sales pitch. He wanted the ministers to learn how to “sell” their vision, their outreach programs, and their ministries.

It was hard to imagine that the same workshop could help both a non‑profit leader and a congregation of pastors. I tried to keep the conversation practical. “Sales,” I said, “is not about convincing people to buy something they don’t need. It’s about communicating value. It’s about making people feel the difference your message will make in their lives.” Norma’s eyes widened; she had heard of sales training from televangelists and now she saw a chance to apply it to something tangible.

She was skeptical of the idea that a sales seminar could fit into her job’s mission. “What if the congregation feels I’m pushing them to give more?” she asked. “What if I am no longer a spiritual guide but a money‑collecting machine?” Her concern revealed a conflict: a ministry that had always prioritized soul‑winning was suddenly asked to monetize that mission. It wasn’t just a training request; it was a cultural shift.

Norma also revealed that she had been given a strange draft speech from the new bishop, a speech that seemed to glorify financial contributions in an almost biblical way. The speech began with a biblical anecdote that Jesus did not need money, then abruptly turned to a call for ministers to start giving back to those they help, threatening the bishop if they didn’t. “It reads like a sermon turned into a sales pitch,” Norma said. “And it feels off.”

The more I listened, the clearer it became: the issue was not the sales tactics themselves but the pressure to turn a spiritual organization into a profit‑centered machine. Norma’s job was to manage people and process, not to juggle the bishop’s financial expectations. I sensed that a simple workshop would not solve the problem; a longer conversation was necessary.

We decided to hold the workshop the next day, but I asked Norma to come along and test the concepts in her own setting. She was surprised by how much of what we covered seemed relevant. I told her that if she could turn the glass of the ministry into a tool for better stewardship, she could fill it for her people, not just for the bishop.

By the end of the session, Norma felt a shift. She didn’t yet have a full plan, but she understood that her role could be more than bookkeeping. She could measure how resources were used and how they impacted the community. Her job had a new dimension: she could align financial stewardship with spiritual outreach. She decided to experiment, and that marked the beginning of a transformation that would ripple through her organization.

Reframing the Glass: From Money Mindset to Purposeful Giving

After the workshop, Norma came back with a copy of the draft speech that the bishop had drafted for the evening’s welcoming address. It was a bizarre mash‑up of biblical narrative and corporate jargon. “We’ve got minimal financial needs,” it began. Then, the bishop declared, “Jesus himself doesn’t need your money. He created the universe with almost no capital. So now you should give money back to those you help, or else I’ll come for it.” It was a blunt, threatening statement that seemed to invert the church’s purpose.

Norma felt the weight of the bishop’s words. She had been in a position that required a certain humility, but this felt like an ultimatum. She realized that the bishop’s desire for financial efficiency was clashing with the church’s mission to serve and uplift. The bishop’s message was clear: every dollar had to count; otherwise, it would be taken away. That approach made the church feel like a collection agency, not a community of faith.

When Norma asked me to look at the speech, I found it disconcerting, not just in its tone but in its content. The bishop’s approach to stewardship seemed to ignore the core principle of generosity: giving is a joy, not a chore. To align the ministry’s financial practices with its spiritual mission, Norma needed to reframe how she talked about the “glass” with her congregation.

She decided to pivot from a “collect and count” mindset to a “measure impact and share outcomes” mindset. She began by developing a simple breakdown of how the church’s funds were spent: meals for the hungry, supplies for the sick, scholarships for students, and community outreach events. This breakdown was not just a financial ledger; it became a storytelling tool that showed the tangible difference each dollar made.

Norma also implemented a system to track the return on each initiative. She asked the ministry team to collect metrics on volunteer hours, food portions served, and personal testimonies. She paired these metrics with the dollar amounts spent. The result was a clear picture: for every dollar allocated to the food pantry, the church provided a certain number of meals, and for every dollar spent on outreach, dozens of people experienced new hope.

She made this information visible to the congregation. During services, she presented a short slide deck that highlighted the “glass” being filled by the church’s work. She used the phrase “the glass of our ministry is not about how much we receive, but how much we give back.” That redefinition shifted the focus from the bottom line to the social impact.

The bishop was astonished by the newfound transparency. The data showed that the church’s spending was efficient compared to similar nonprofits. She could demonstrate that a lower cost per service could still yield meaningful results. The church’s reputation for prudent stewardship improved, and the media began to cover their successes. Contributions rose, not because people were being pressured, but because they saw the real difference their money made.

Norma’s approach also had an internal effect. She stopped sending out cold reminders to ministers about raising collections. Instead, she scheduled regular meetings to review the impact data, discuss ways to improve service delivery, and brainstorm new outreach ideas. The conversation became collaborative rather than command‑and‑control. Ministers felt empowered rather than micromanaged.

By reframing the glass, Norma turned her role from a financial auditor to a steward who connected money with mission. She became a bridge between the bishop’s fiscal expectations and the church’s spiritual purpose. Her new focus on impact measurement resonated with the congregation and attracted media attention, turning the church into a model of efficient, purpose‑driven philanthropy.

Transforming Stewardship: Outcomes and Lessons Learned

With the new system in place, the church experienced a wave of positive change. Contributions increased, partly because the congregation saw how their gifts were being used. More people volunteered, inspired by the data showing their efforts had a tangible impact. The church’s media presence grew, as local news outlets covered the story of a small denomination that turned financial transparency into a marketing tool.

Norma’s bishop recognized the value of her new approach. He incorporated monitoring and reporting of financial distribution into her official job description. Now, efficiency and impact tracking became part of the church’s standard operating procedures. The bishop even told staff, “Now I know the best manager in the denomination is you, Norma.” The compliment was not just a token of appreciation; it was a recognition that the church’s financial health was inseparable from its spiritual mission.

The transformation also had a human impact. Ministers felt less like “money collectors” and more like “mission facilitators.” They could discuss how their work affected the community in concrete terms, which helped them communicate the church’s value to parishioners. Parishioners, in turn, felt a deeper connection to their church, which boosted attendance and volunteer engagement.

From a practical standpoint, the church gained a system for measuring return on investment (ROI) for every program. When the food pantry reached a certain ROI threshold, the church could decide to expand it. When a program fell below expectations, they could reevaluate and redirect resources. This data-driven culture fostered continuous improvement and accountability.

Beyond the numbers, the church’s story highlighted the importance of aligning financial stewardship with core values. By reframing the glass from a mere container of money to a symbol of purpose, the church was able to maintain its spiritual integrity while also meeting the bishop’s expectations for fiscal responsibility. The result was a more engaged congregation, a more efficient ministry, and a brighter future for the denomination.

For leaders who find themselves caught between a new financial mandate and an old spiritual mission, Norma’s experience offers a roadmap. First, examine the underlying values of your organization. Second, translate those values into measurable outcomes. Third, communicate those outcomes in a way that resonates with your audience. Fourth, build systems that keep your “glass” full by focusing on impact, not just income. In doing so, you’ll create a culture that satisfies both the heart and the wallet.

Feel free to explore more about this topic on Barry Maher’s website, where he discusses management, motivation, and communication. His insights can help leaders of all kinds build stronger, more purposeful organizations. Visit