STEWARDSHIP
SERMON
PREACHED AT ST. PAUL’S,
MAGNOLIA SPRINGS, ON SUNDAY, OCTOBER 1, 2017.
ONE SENTENCE: Gratitude, from whatever our station in life, is what
motivates our giving back to God.
Our service here this morning has
been called many things over the years – the Lord’s Supper, the Last Supper,
Communion, and Holy Eucharist, among others.
It is one of the seven sacraments –
and one of the two dominical sacraments; that is, one of the two sacraments
established by our Lord.
It has ancient roots. Christians in the early church gathered in
the catacombs or in small, private homes to do, in hiding, what we do here in
the open with friends and family.
Throughout the centuries, the
elements have been the same. Bread and
wine, of course. Some elements have fancy Greek names: anamnesis, prolepsis, and epiclesis.
We
know the essential ingredients in what we do. We have readings from scripture,
the creed, the prayers, offering, remembering, anticipating, and invoking the
Holy Spirit’s presence on the bread, the wine, and on ourselves.
The name of this rite has evolved
over the years. Most of those names were in Greek: kharis – for “grace”; kharizesthai
– “to offer gracefully”; eukharistos
– grateful; and finally, eukharistia,
for “thanksgiving.”
So it is today. Eucharist is the
central act of Christian worship – and it is an act of thanksgiving. Our
Eucharistic prayer is known as the Great
Thanksgiving. The people gather to
recall God’s mighty acts in our lives… and in our history… and to give thanks.
How do we respond? How did the people of the Early Church,
gathered in fear of their lives, respond?
Our circumstances are certainly different, but the central definition is
the same: “Our response is defined by what
we do with everything after we say, ‘I believe.’”
+ + +
Let me tell you a personal story
about my own journey.
My father, God bless him, emphasized
a lesson to me early-on. I saw him, each
Sunday fold a five-dollar bill and place it in an envelope for the church. But, he didn’t stop there. I received 50
cents in allowance at that time… and I was expected to place five cents in my
own offering envelope each Sunday.
Let me be clear: For a six-year-old
boy, that was not an act of thanksgiving, but it did emphasize to me a
duty. And it took root – a root which
bore meaningful fruit much later.
+ + +
I was reared a Methodist and joined
the Episcopal Church at age 18. When
Nora and I were preparing to get married, I promised her I would join her in the
Baptist Church. After we married, I had
remorse: “I’m sorry, honey, I just can’t
do it.”
So, we agreed on the Episcopal
Church.
As the years went by, we recognized
our blessings – blessings that grew and expanded. We became more and more involved in the
church. And we recognized the need to respond to those blessings. We gave more… first a few percent of our
income… then more… then, more.
Our giving became our response to
God – because we recognized that it all came from him.
Two things have become true for
us: We practice the concept of first fruits, an ancient, Old Testament
practice of giving first, before
anything else is done with our income. The second thing that is true for us is
that we do not limit our giving to 10 percent, and neither do we restrict our
giving only to the church.
We recognize that God’s generosity
to us has not been limited, so why should
we limit our response? And also, there
are many needs in the world – true needs, not civic clubs or political parties
– which the church does not meet. So, aren’t they God’s work, too? We
answer, “Yes.” Our giving is a
response to needs which our faith places before us.
My basic theology of giving can be
summarized in this way: It is not so important which good cause I give
to; it is important that I give. And it is important to give out of gratitude
and not out of resentment.
If you have trouble with that last
suggestion – gratitude versus resentment – remember the wisdom of the Twelve
Step Programs: Fake it ‘til you make it.
If all this seems daunting or
intimidating to you, be gentle with yourselves.
Start with baby steps, with an aspiration of additional steps in the
years to come. Bit-by-bit, you will make
progress. If you give it earnest
consideration, you will see your life and perspective transformed.
+ + +
Mary Freeman, who is our chair for
Stewardship, asked me a key question the other day. While I cannot quote her exactly, the essence
was, “How does someone who has very
limited means give? Can they give time?”
As I pondered that thoughtful
question and my inadequate response later, I recalled a situation from 12 years
ago. It was a potent and poignant
memory.
The Mississippi Gulf Coast had been
struck a devastating blow by Hurricane Katrina. We had lost six churches on the
Coast. The needs were beyond
measure. The human anguish was without
limits.
We
struggled to respond in a meaningful way. One very wealthy Jacksonian agreed to
pay the compensation for all Episcopal clergy for six months – just to be sure
that priestly care of the people continued.
Other very generous gifts were made.
One day, in the diocesan office, I
received an envelope. It was from the
Church of Advocate in Ashville, North Carolina – a congregation I was familiar
with. They were a congregation of
homeless people, struggling drug addicts, probably some prostitutes, and
transients – people very much “down on their luck.”
As the old saying goes, these folks didn’t have two nickels to rub
together. But those folks – who
didn’t even have a regular place to worship – had put together their coins, out
of their poverty, and donated $145 for the recovery of one of our congregations.
I was reminded of the Widow’s Mite and how Jesus,
observing the contrast between the rich man and the poor widow, said, “Truly
I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing
to the treasury. 44For all of them have contributed out of their
abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she
had to live on.”
The poor widow knew the importance of giving. She had little – but she was grateful for
what she did have, and she knew it
was good for her soul to give.
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