By: Roy Douglas Malonson
Every Sunday, across the country, millions of Black families open their wallets, lift their hands, and give their 10%. It’s an act rooted in faith, tradition, and deep spiritual conviction. The tithe—10% of one’s income—has been a sacred pillar in the Black church for generations. We give not just out of obligation, but out of gratitude, out of hope, and often out of struggle. And yet, in the backdrop of our giving, a painful truth persists: we’re still losing the wealth race.
Despite decades of faithful tithing, Black Americans remain at the bottom of nearly every economic indicator. According to the Federal Reserve’s 2022 Survey of Consumer Finances, the median net worth of Black households in America is just $44,900. White households? $285,000. That’s a sixfold difference. And while the church may be full on Sunday, the wealth gap is just as wide on Monday.
This isn’t about blaming the church. The Black church has done more for our community than any other institution. It has raised our leaders, housed our movements, buried our loved ones, and lifted our spirits. It’s been our bank when banks turned us away, our shelter when the storm came, and our family when the world forgot us. But even with all its power, the church alone cannot close a $240,000 wealth gap.
It’s time to ask: could our tradition of giving be unintentionally holding back our potential to build wealth? Take a hypothetical sister named Rochelle. She earns $60,000 a year and faithfully tithes $6,000. Over 30 years, that’s $180,000 given to the church. Now imagine if that same $6,000 per year was invested in a simple index fund averaging a 7% annual return. Rochelle would retire with nearly half a million dollars. That’s generational wealth. That’s college tuition for grandkids. That’s a paid-off home. That’s financial breathing room.
But Rochelle isn’t alone. A 2023 Pew Research survey found that nearly 80% of Black Christians believe tithing is required, not optional. At the same time, only 39% of Black families own stocks, compared to 66% of white families. Black retirement accounts are, on average, half the size of white households. Business ownership? Even worse. The typical Black-owned busi- ness is valued at just a quarter of its white-owned counterpart.
So, we’re pouring money into the offering plate, but far too little into port- folios, property, or entrepreneurship. And to be clear, we’re not choosing one over the other because we’re financially careless—we’re choosing faith. We’re choosing to trust that our blessings will come back tenfold. But what if part of that blessing was also wisdom? What if God is saying: be faithful—and be financially strategic?
This isn’t a call to stop tithing. Far from it. It’s a call to start thinking. What if we reimagined the tithe, not as a static 10% out the door, but as a split—a giving plan and a wealth plan? Five percent to the church, five percent to your future. That way, your faith builds community, and your dollars build legacy.
To be fair, some Black churches are already leading the way. A growing number are hosting financial literacy workshops, encouraging investments, and even launching credit unions and co-ops. But for many others, money remains a taboo subject—especially when it challenges long-held doc- trine. And in too many pulpits, the prosperity gospel is preached, but personal finance is never taught.
If we’re serious about closing the Black wealth gap, we have to shift our mindset. Giving is powerful. But so is growing. We don’t have to choose between honoring God and honoring our future. We can—and must—do both.
Tithing builds the church. But investing builds the community. Tithing feeds the spirit. Investing feeds the generations. The truth is, Black America has been faithful. But faith alone won’t pay off student loans, buy back the block, or close a $240,000 gap.
We’ve prayed. We’ve given. We’ve waited. Now it’s time to invest. Because the next blessing? It might just come with a brokerage account.
