In this Issue:

• • Generosity That Binds Us
  • A Shared Vision of Generosity
  • Fall ECRF Scholarship Applications Now Open
  • 2026 ECRF Offerings & Schedule

Elizabeth Le’anani Coffee, Managing Director, Lake Institute on Faith & Giving

Looking Back: Generosity as Spiritual Practice 

As I step into this new role at the Lake Institute on Faith & Giving, I do so with gratitude for the Institute’s twenty-year legacy of exploring the dynamic relationship between faith and giving. It is an honor to join a team and larger community committed to asking not just how we raise funds, but how generosity shapes who we are and how we live together.

For me, generosity has never been separate from faith. Growing up in my family, giving, whether it be time, presence, or finances, has always been an expression of stewarding of the things with which we have been entrusted. I grew up watching my parents and grandparents tithe and serve in our church, set extra plates at holiday tables for neighbors, and find local causes to which they made long-term financial and relational commitments. Giving was not an obligation; it was a spiritual manifestation of who we were and what we believed.

As a Hawaiian, I also carry a cultural inheritance that shapes the way I understand generosity. In Hawaiian tradition, giving is more than a transaction, it is an act of reciprocity. Gifts are understood to carry mana, the spiritual power of the giver and of the land. To refuse to give, or even to refuse to receive, was once considered not a neutral act but a rupture in community. The Hawaiian word ho‘okipa, often translated to “hospitality,” means so much more to me than its direct English translation. It means to be generous with everything you have and everything you are as a form of welcome.

These teachings remind me that generosity is not about what we give up. It is about how we are bound together in hope and abundance.

The Gift Beyond Transaction 

Potawatomi botanist and author Robin Wall Kimmerer describes in Braiding Sweetgrass how her people’s economy was not based on private goods but on common wealth. In a gift economy, she writes, the currency is reciprocity. A strawberry or a serviceberry is never just food; it is a gift, carrying with it both nourishment and responsibility. To receive the gift of the berry is to be called into relationship with the plant, the land, and the community.

For me, this resonates with my Hawaiian heritage and my Christian faith. Hawaiians speak of mana, the spiritual power carried in each gift. My faith proclaims that giving is an act of worship, a participation in God’s own self-giving. Both traditions – along with many other cultural and faith traditions – insist that generosity is not about loss. It is about belonging. 

What if generosity was reclaimed in this way? Not only as a financial tool, but as a bridge between brokenness and belonging. Not only as a way to sustain institutions, but as a way to imagine new life, even amid decline.

That vision connects with the work of Lake Institute. To explore generosity is not only to analyze data or teach fundraising techniques (though both are essential). It is also to lift generosity out of narrow lanes and into the wide space of how we live together.

Looking Forward: Joining Lake’s Mission 

I am especially eager to join Lake’s mission at this moment because I believe storytelling is one of the most faithful tools we have. Stories help us translate between lived experience and research findings. Data shows trends; stories make those trends human. Together, they confirm what communities already know: generosity is the connective tissue of our common life.

In this role, I hope to:

• Translate between research and lived story so communities see themselves reflected in the data.
• Refuse decline-only narratives, instead amplifying stories of hope and possibility.
• Speak honestly from spiritual and cultural rootedness so that generosity feels textured, not generic.

Lake Institute has always been a catalyst, convening leaders to think deeply about faith and giving. My commitment is to build on that legacy with faithful storytelling that binds us together in hope and abundance.

As I begin this chapter with the Lake Institute, I am eager to learn from you – scholars, practitioners, and faith leaders who are already living these questions. My conviction is simple but urgent: generosity is not about what we give up, but about how we are bound together in hope and abundance.

I look forward to joining you in exploring the many ways faith and giving continue to form not only our institutions, but also our lives, our communities, and our shared future.

Questions For Reflection

• If you believed every gift you gave carried part of yourself, how would it change your generosity? 

• How might your faith community or organization practice generosity as belonging, not just survival? 

• Where do you see stories of hope shaping the way your community gives today?