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Text: 2 Corinthians
8:1-14 6th Sunday after Pentecost The Grace of Giving In the name
of him who loved us and gave himself for us, dear friends in Christ: I wonder how many of you when you saw the
picture on the bulletin jacket and then looked at title theme of this morning’s
message thought to yourself, “Uh-oh, here it comes: today we’re going to get the old ‘stewardship
shakedown’. Pastor’s going to lay down
the law about offerings, and tithing, and contributing to the church and
such.” Now, maybe you didn’t think that
… but if you did, you’ll be happy to hear that I’m not going to disappoint you. But to be fair, if you’ve been
around to hear what I have to say for the last several years, then you know
that it’s not a topic I tackle very often.
In fact, I take it on so rarely that it has concerned some people. It has happened several times – usually at a
council meeting when we’re looking at potentially disturbing numbers in the
church’s financial report – that someone will say to me in the
form of a very heavy hint, “You know, Pastor, we used to have an
annual stewardship Sunday. It was a
pretty big deal. I wonder why we don’t
do that anymore?” The short
answer to that question is that I’m very much aware that too many others have
gone way overboard on the topic, and they’ve given the church and the pastoral
ministry a bad name in the process.
We’ve all looked on in disgust and embarrassment at the shenanigans of
some of the really high profile ministries that somehow manage to turn every
message into a plea for money – and how many of them have mismanaged their
resources and misused vast sums entrusted to them to in indulge in ridiculous
excesses and then gone on to collapse in ruin, leaving the faithful
discouraged, feeling betrayed, and deep in debt. It sickens me that the cause of Christ has
been so tarnished, and how the deceiving machinations of a corrupt few have
laid all clergy open to the charge that, “All those pastors, all they want is
your money. That’s all they ever talk about.” You’ve heard it. I know I have – and as a result, so as not to
add fuel to the fire, I tend to tread lightly around the subject. And it’s
not just the dishonest or irresponsible ministries that I think have gone
overboard on this subject. Case in
point: every year the district or synod
suggests (or decrees) certain topics to be studied by the pastors at our
regular monthly circuit meetings. Very
often, they’ll send down materials and study guides for us to use. Two years ago the big topic was
stewardship. They gave us all these
fancy (and as I recall expensive) notebooks full of
very slick outlines and Bible studies and research papers all geared at how
you, the pastor, could make stewardship a top priority in your church. I can remember that one of the exercises was
on how to develop a stewardship theme from any text in the Bible. They had us taking the prescribed readings
for any Sunday chosen at random and writing the outlines for a stewardship sermon
based on it. And how I wish I were
making this up. But can you
imagine? I mean, say it’s Easter Sunday,
and you come to church expecting to hear about … oh, I don’t know … maybe
something about the Resurrection of the Lord, d’ya’think? But no!
Instead the message is about the devotion of the women who went to the
tomb bringing spices to embalm the body of Jesus. Ah, but aren’t they fine examples of
giving? They probably had to dig deep
into their purses to come up with the cash.
And who knows? When it turned out
they didn’t need the spices after all, they very likely sold them at a profit
and gave the money to the poor. Oh,
there’s a lot we can learn from these women.
Give me a break. Now, I have
no doubt that the people who came up with that silly exercise had good
intentions. The basic notion was that
stewardship themes should be incorporated throughout the year rather than
confined to one special Sunday set aside for that purpose (presumably because
people, knowing it was coming, might stay home that day). But don’t you think that’s a bit
disingenuous? Like maybe it’s wrong for
a pastor to approach a biblical text with his mind already made up about what
he’s going to talk about rather than just letting the text itself speak? That is, after all, the preacher’s task: to illumine and apply what God’s Word says –
not to force it say something that just happens to be a burning issue in his
mind at the moment. But that
having been said, there’s no denying that this morning’s Epistle lesson, taken
from St. Paul’s second letter to the church at Corinth, takes head on the
subject of Christian giving. So to be
true to God’s Word it would be wrong for me not to talk about it. More than that, But first,
a little background on the text: Paul
had come to In any case, it happened in those
days that there was a severe famine in Throughout this letter to the
church that we call Second Corinthians, Paul has been addressing these other
problems – and now, in the section that we heard this morning, he comes to the
subject of the stalled relief effort. It
was high time to get it moving again because very soon Paul with a number of
representatives from the Greek and Asian congregations would be returning to And what stands out above all is
their determination and motivation for giving.
Paul says, “they urgently pleaded with us for
the privilege of sharing in this service.”
We get the impression that Paul did not urge them to give or even pass
the hat asking for a “freewill” offering.
No, it’s rather that having learned of the distress of their fellow
Christians, the Macedonian congregations took up a collection on their own accord
and literally pressed it upon Paul: “Take
this. We beg you.” It even seems that Paul was loath to accept
it. He speaks of their “severe”
situation and their “extreme poverty”.
As far as he was concerned, they didn’t have it to give in the first
place. He didn’t want to accept it
because he thought they needed every penny just to keep their own heads above
water. But that wasn’t the way the
Macedonians looked at it – and the reason was that they weren’t looking at
themselves and their own needs, they were looking at
the needs and suffering of others. That,
of course, is what Christian love is all about:
not thinking of self, but rather sacrificing self for the benefit of you
– whoever “you” happens to be. And so
they didn’t go home to take inventory of their wealth and possessions saying to
themselves, “Okay, what do I need for myself and what
can I spare?” Rather, they asked, “How
much can I give and still manage to get by, somehow, relying on God’s
grace and help?” They gave first
– themselves and their first fruits – and contented themselves with the
leftovers. And that, my friends, is the
standard for the Christian grace of giving.
It’s not a question of percentages or amounts – it’s a question of an
attitude of the heart. So often I’ll
hear stewardship exhortations that speak of a person’s duty to hold up
their part – as if the Lord is saying, “I’ve given you so much, and now you are
to pay me my cut. You have an
obligation. You owe me.” It makes Christian giving sound like paying
taxes – and I know how much we all enjoy that.
But that is just legalism. The
whole approach robs the grace of giving of its grace. If it’s by compunction, it has nothing to do
with the kindness or Christ-like heart of the giver. And referring to the offering at hand Paul
specifically says to the Corinthians, “I am not commanding you … I’m
giving you an opportunity to demonstrate the sincerity of your love.” And recall that Paul had no expectation of
the Macedonians. They gave because they
considered it a privilege to help. “Oh
look what God has given me so that I can share!” That’s the same response Paul hopes for in
the Corinthians (and in us) – not because the money is so important (though it
will certainly help), but because of what it says about one’s Christian life
and faith. On the other end of popular
stewardship appeals, are those based on the “give in order to get”
principle. The idea is that God loves a
cheerful giver, and that he’s promised to bless those who will step out in
faith and give generously. “You can’t
out give God”, we hear. We’re further
told that by giving more than you can really afford, you’re planting your “seed
money” in faith so that it will come back to you thirty, fifty, or one hundred
fold. Now, there is some biblical truth
to those ideas. God does love cheerful
givers, and Solomon wrote that he never saw their children begging for bread –
God does indeed bless those who give freely; but again, it’s a question of the
attitude of their hearts. They give
because they want to give and trust God to take care of their needs. That’s the right spirit of giving. It’s not that we are to give with a mind
toward receiving a high return on our investment. We aren’t to give in order to get. We are to give because God
gave. He gave us his only begotten
Son. And the Son gave himself
completely. Paul writes, “though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor”. He set aside his heavenly glory, power, and
honor to take on humility, weakness, shame and disgrace. He gave his life to save us from death. And he did it willingly – for the joy set
before him: the joy of giving us glory,
power, honor, riches, and eternal life.
And because he has given us also his Spirit, we too give. But even here we want to be careful: our giving is not something reciprocal – it’s
not tit for tat – “you gave, O Lord, and so to show my appreciation, I’ll give
too”. No. It’s true that we are thankful for his gift,
but we cannot repay him, nor should we try.
It’s only human pride that wants to pay for a gift. Rather, because we have his Spirit to
motivate us, we have been given the grace of giving: the internal desire and joy that finds its
highest pleasure in seeking the good of others.
We give like Christ gave because through his gift of grace and faith, we
are being made Christ-like. And that’s why Paul issues a
corrective here: Don’t overdo it. He writes, “Our desire is not that others
might be relieved while you are hard pressed.”
In your zeal to sacrifice for the benefit of others, don’t make
yourselves the next charity case. It
would create a logistical nightmare for the church. The time may come when you need help, and if
it does the rest of the church will be there for you, just like you are helping
the church at Jerusalem now; but don’t create a case of hardship for yourselves
artificially. Paul envisions a measure
of equality – the collective Body of Christ taking care of itself – taking aid
where it’s needed, but also understanding that charity begins at home. You have your own needs too: deal with them so that others won’t have to. And to bring this up to date,
these needs are not just members of the church who are in distress (though that
would be a good place to start), but it also includes all the other needs of
the church, everything from supporting missions to paying the power and water
bills. A big problem we have in our
synod now is with “designated giving”.
Often times there’s plenty of money available to get everything done, but
much of it is locked up because givers find some projects more attractive than
others. They earmark their funds for
special accounts because, “I’d rather give to buy Bibles for missions than to
buy cleaning supplies and toilet paper, even though we need those too.” More often than not, that’s just the old
pride thing creeping back into the picture.
I want to be able to say that my money went for a noble
cause. The grace of giving has no such
pride. Well, there’s a lot more we could
talk about. This morning I’ve not come
close to exhausting the subjects of stewardship and Christian giving; but we’ve
seen what God says about it in this text, so we’re off to a good start
anyway. And from what we’ve learned,
it’s obvious that the grace of giving is a virtue in which we all have plenty
of room to grow. We pray that God would
bring this gift to completion in us. And
who knows? Maybe I’ll bring it up again
one day as the Word of God directs (just don’t count on it happening on Easter
Sunday). Recognizing that it is his work
in us, then, let us strive to excel in this grace of giving. In the name of the Lord Jesus who gave
everything for us. Amen. Soli Deo
Gloria! |