My Money Journey

From selling rat food to studying economics at Cambridge, social entrepreneur Jerry Marshall shares his money story.

My rat food business at boarding school was highly profitable. There was a craze on pet rats, but no one had enough feed, so the poor creatures were half-starved. From this, my cunning life plan emerged: set up a business, sell it, and make pots of money.

For some reason, I decided the first step was to study economics at Cambridge. For someone in the bottom stream, this was optimistic. But I got to work, I won a place and, after graduating, joined a small but fast-growing engineering firm in Coventry to “learn the ropes”.

I knew no-one in Coventry but I heard there was an Anglican church near Warwick Uni popular with students. I saw this as an opportunity to meet girls.

I was warmly welcomed but what struck me was that people there actually believed God answered prayer. To check it out, I read John’s Gospel. Clearly this was an eye witness account and the disciples must have seen something extraordinary to change from scarred out of their wits, after Jesus was arrested, to fearlessly spreading the Gospel.

I committed my life to Jesus February 1980. That was not part of the plan. But I did meet a nice Warwick student; 45 years later, Sue still hasn’t managed to get rid of me.

As a newly minted Christian, I realised giving money was expected. I approached this with the question, “What’s the minimum I can get away with?” My first direct debit was £10 a month. I was appalled that it was as much as my sailing club subscription.

That autumn I joined evangelist Ian Knox on a mission at Warwick. In one talk he explained that tithing — giving 10% of income — was the basic essential. Real generosity began beyond that. It was a scary challenge. I raised my giving to £30 a month and found it painful, practically and psychologically.

John Wesley once said, “The last part of a man to be converted is his wallet.” Money is a brilliant invention, a means of exchange and a store of value. But it has a dark spiritual side and I was in danger of becoming a money addict. I wanted money to prove my success. God began to teach me to “defile” money by giving it away, breaking its hold on me so that I could possess money without being possessed by it.

When I later applied for a better-paying job, I promised God that if I got it, I’d increase my giving to a tithe. I got the job but it still took months before I finally reached that 10%, £60 a month. But then there was a breakthrough: giving became easier… even exciting.

1986 was another turning point: I was made redundant with one week’s notice, just after Sue had stopped work and our first child was born. I was offered a new job with a 40% salary increase — but God told me to turn it down: “What good is it if a man gains the whole world yet forfeits his soul?” (Matt 16:26).

To get off benefits, I became a self-employed marketing consultant. The business thrived. By the mid-90s we were giving around £500 a month, 15% of income. Because my earnings fluctuated, I kept a spreadsheet to ensure I wasn’t short-changing God.

Christians debate whether tithing still applies. Arguably, it’s something of a cop out. The early church approach of holding everything in common was too radical when Christianity became the Roman religion.

And for many, rich donors giving alms in response the pleas of the poor was more attractive than equality.

The consultancy became a platform for a social enterprise with local churches and later a business called Customer Research Technology (CRT), which I co-founded in 2001. Part of the aim was to have something to sell to create a pension fund.

Around this time, I became increasingly involved in business solutions to poverty — seeking financially sustainable ways of lifting people out of hardship while preserving dignity and avoiding dependency. In particular, creating “impact businesses”, for-profit companies with a broader social mission, and by 2007 I was leading a network of Christians in this space.

One unforgettable project was Hagar, in Cambodia — a group of impact businesses offering training and protected employment to women rescued from sex trafficking. I visited with a business advisor called Mike and was deeply moved.

One day Mike phoned. Hagar was in crisis and might collapse. He was about to fly out but needed immediate funding. “I need ten Christians to give £5,000 each,” he said. “Can you help?” The question was aimed at the network but I felt challenged.

At the time I was struggling to sell my share in CRT. I thought, if only the sale had gone through, then I could help. My savings were meagre. But the nudge was unmistakably from God. Reluctantly, I transferred £5,000.

Two weeks later, I received an unexpected and generous offer for my share of the business.

I don’t believe in a simple “prosperity theology”, but we serve a God of abundance. Looking back, that £5,000 felt like a “first fruits” offering: something given in faith and overwhelmingly blessed by God.

The Bible never condemns creating or holding wealth. What matters is how we earn it — avoiding exploitation — and our attitude toward it: “Everything comes from you, and we have given you only what comes from your hand.” (1 Chron 29:14)

Giving has its place but as someone once pointed out to me, it’s a 100% capital loss. I used some of CRT proceeds to set up an impact business in Palestine. It was one of those crazily high-risk God-ideas, to create jobs and hope where there was 50% youth unemployment. Called “Transcend”, the business transcends barriers by having an online export; by ensuring everyone can work from home at short notice (in case of curfew); and by serving both Israeli and Palestinian customers. The challenges were huge, we almost failed, but God was in it. The company grew to 150 employees.

A temptation is to keep accumulating. When I retired, we set a cap and decided to give away or impact invest anything above this. Today I’m mainly involved in enterprise solutions to poverty in Africa.

It’s not just about money. We are also called to share our possessions; and most Christians give away a significant amount of their time. We need to take giving seriously, not so much because of the needs around us, but for our own spiritual formation. My journey with money has been challenging but it was a crucial element in discipleship, deeply fulfilling and an amazing ride.

Jerry is a member of St Mary’s, Weaverham. He’s a Cambridge economics graduate, a serial entrepreneur, speaker and author and OWL. He is currently completing an MA in theology and leads Transformational Enterprise Network, www.tencommunity.net . Achievements include arguing with Pete Waterman on BBC Breakfast, sailing a sinking yacht across the channel and winning a unicycle race at New Wine.