The collection. A time of offering. Your tithe. The contemporary church has euphemisms aplenty for the awkward necessity otherwise known as financial giving. And perhaps they betray just that: an odd ambivalence about our money and what we're meant to do with it. No minister wants to be seen as a manipulator, and no believer (hopefully) wishes to be a tight-fisted scrooge. But our wallets are close to our hearts, and a heart that truly loves to give does not always come easy. Nonetheless, despite all our fears, giving is good for us.

I wrote last year about the 'cringe moment of the collection', noting a particularly disastrous sales pitch at a wedding service by one minister apparently desperate to keep the lights on. It showed just how problematic church-talk about money can be, how perilously close it can come to desperate begging or religious exploitation.

But bad news is easy to find; churches can also talk about giving in a way that graceful, inspiring and ultimately a source of joy. Here are three ways it can do just that.

1. Integrity

Dishonesty in finance can come easily, greed being an obvious motive in any situation. Obviously then, integrity and a commitment to the truth should be central to any church inviting financial support. Not only does the truth come out eventually, but you betray the entire cause of faith if honesty evades you: the truth by contrast, sets people free. So ministries shouldn't pretend they're on the desperate brink of collapse if they don't receive your inheritance by tomorrow, when they're really quite fine. It should also be clear to those giving how their money is spent, and thankfully in many churches this kind of public transparency is the norm.

But honesty can also mean being truthful about difficult needs, about the lack of stability, and the serious reliance on charitable support. Some parishioners may not know, or assume their church has a wealth of resources when the opposite is true. People can forget that institutions rely, in part, on their participation to exist. When they know there's a serious need that they can serve, they might just wish you told them sooner.

2. Challenge

The idea of 'challenging' anyone on their money-spending probably seems galling to most, knowing how prone we are to hypocrisy. But a challenge can be good, and Jesus made numerous dramatic claims about discipleship and money. He said, 'Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.' A pastor preaching at my church recently drew on these words in a provocative talk on giving; he summarised Christ's teaching as 'follow the money': your bank balance will, for better or worse, reveal what you value.

Most know, though don't often confront the fact that storing up financial treasure never brings one contentment. Psychological 'happiness' studies confirm it. Rather, in Jesus' words 'it is better to give than to receive' (Acts 20:35), and again as my pastor said: 'your spiritual need to give to the church is far greater than the church's need to receive'.

3. Trust

Ultimately the problem of giving comes down to trust: leaders and congregations trusting each other, yes, but really both being able to trust God. To trust that he really does provide what humanity needs, though not always what it may want. It is in such situations when the things we really rely on – like our financial security – are at risk that we see what the 'trust' in faith requires. It is far more than some distant intellectual assent to an idea that we'll find out about for sure when we die. It's an earthy, costly, tough call to risk and let go, but therein to find what true provision means.

Talk is cheap on a matter such as this, and the spectre of preachy hypocrisy looms large. The real way to learn about giving, is of course, to do it. Lent, as many have learned, is a profound opportunity for this practical service. Unlike Christmas, we may not get physical presents in return for our sacrifice, but can receive something deeper, more transformative: the chance to become the 'cheerful giver' of whom Paul spoke, one who meets with joy the needs of those without, and so meets their deepest needs within.