Proper 27 2015

Proper 27 2015

Our Gospel Reading today is a familiar one to us—maybe even infamous. It’s one which occurs right around “stewardship time,” and is one of those stories which probably doesn’t have too much more mileage in it for the number of times we’ve heard it.

That being said, it does have some elements which make it perfect for stewardship sermons.

Here we have Jesus and his disciples hanging out at the Temple. Jesus has been teaching them—well, warning them really—about the dangers of showy, false spirituality. He tells them not to be like the scribes and Pharisees who want special titles and attention, but are just cheese and chalk when it comes right down to it.

As if on cue, in walks a poor widow who drops a couple of small coins into the treasury. When Jesus sees this, he points it out to his disciples that this poor woman gave more than any Pharisee or scribe, because while they give out of their abundance, this woman gave all that she had.

Actually, it is a great story, and perhaps we may be a bit more cynical about it because it does turn up at stewardship time. But that’s to say that the lesson is still a powerful one, as it does remind us that the value of a gift is not found in its size, but is given value by its intention—this of course is made all the more precious when the gift is one which is sacrificial.

  

So, while it may be a bit tiresome to hear this lesson in the context of stewardship campaigns, what I would add is that it doesn’t make the lesson and less important. After all we’ve heard the moral of this story in any number of parables. We’ve heard it in fairy tales, and fables, and countless bedtime stories. And the reason the lesson (not just this text from Mark’s Gospel) are shared over and over again is because we know that we need to hear it to help ground us in what is really important—especially when talking about money and resources especially. We live in a world that tells us something completely contrary.

The point is, I suppose, that this story, this Gospel reading is one which is supposed to help grease the wheels a little bit so we can talk about giving. The only trouble is, I’m personally squeamish about talking about money—the fact is, it makes me uncomfortable.

Now, I know that I could explain to you that a church is run through donation, and like anything we need to pay electric bills, water bills. We have to pay for the upkeep of properties, we have payroll, and a number of other places where money has to go. We publish the budget every year, and publish monthly reports—and we do our very best to keep a very tight budget—and we do this because that’s what “stewardship” is. But, I doubt that’s much of a pitch for a pledge drive.

I suppose I could tell you stories about lives that have changed, or places where the ministry of this church has helped in the community over 180 years. In fact, I could tell you stories about people who have found community here, and still others whose faith was strengthened from being here.

I could also probably mention the events that we’ve been able to offer, or our Church School program, and offerings for our youth that have become important to this church. But, while all of these things are important—there’s almost this sense that when we pledge, we’re really just paying for services rendered, or a commodity that we may or may not use. So, rather than being a pitch about giving to the life and mission of God’s Church, we may instead be tempted to make our giving about paying for stuff…and this, in turn, can make us feel that we’re only responsible for the stuff or services we feel we need, and that just becomes a whole different kind of economy. Suddenly our giving to the Church isn’t about giving to God, it’s about funding an institution.

When I think of stewardship in terms of funding an institution, I can’t help but get cynical about the whole thing. What’s more, I think it brings to mind how incongruous our sense of giving has become, versus the lesson we’re supposed to be getting from the story of the widow.

The truth is, this widow was giving her two small coins to an institution. To say that the Temple was not an economy which included services and commodities would be disingenuous. Of course there was a business side to the life around the Temple—and truthfully, this widow’s meager offering would not do a whole lot to offset the budget at the Temple. But, we also know that’s not the point.

  

The point is that this woman gives from her heart sacrificially—she gives in what could be called a dangerous way, because truthfully, what she gave would have covered the cost of her food. However, instead of worrying about that—here she is dropping her money into the treasury at the Temple.

This is actually a bad example of stewardship, by the way. This woman has just dropped all of her grocery money into the Temple. The Temple won’t notice any difference—but this widow, and if she has any dependents at home, will definitely notice a difference. And while it is extravagantly generous on her part—it is still bad stewardship financially speaking.

So, I have no idea why we use this passage for stewardship sermons…

That is, unless, what we really mean when we talk about stewardship in the Church is something quite different from the number crunching, and value based accounting that we do in the world. In other words, if we think of God’s economy in the same way that we think of the global economy—then this woman’s sacrifice is nothing more than a pittance, and someone should probably set her straight about her priorities.

But the truth is, in our heart of hearts we know that’s not right. Whether we have heard this Gospel reading a million times, or even if we’ve heard just heard the moral lesson from fables, and fairy tales and every other parable from our youth—what we know is that there is value that cannot be quantified. We know that there is value that can’t be seen, counted, and really can’t much be understood, but we know the quality of it when we see it.

And while it may be hard to articulate what this quality is exactly, we know that it has the power to change us, to change people, to change lives. An institution and a careful budget doesn’t do that.

If you’ve had the opportunity to see any videos of our new Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry, preach—you’ll know that he’s an immensely talented preacher. One of the themes which he has been regularly talking about is this idea of the “Jesus Movement.” He says that the Episcopal Church is part of the Jesus Movement, and his point is that Jesus didn’t come to start a new religion; he didn’t come to start the Church (the Episcopal Church and St. John’s included)—but Jesus came to start a movement. Bp. Curry says that Jesus came to call us back to loving relationship with God, and this movement that Jesus began is simply to tell everyone that they are welcomed to be part of that loving relationship. That’s really good news, and it’s a message that doesn’t need the institution of the Church to get it out there—to change people’s lives. And because this message of hope doesn’t need the institution, and never did, we call it a movement.

So, I guess the question we’re left with is “why in the world are we financing the Church?” Well, I suppose if we think of our pledge: the giving of our time, treasure and talents only as financing an institution, then I suppose we could say it’s pointless. It’s like investing in zeppelins, or carriages. In fact, if all that the church is about is the rendering of services, or offering programs and commodities—well, I think our money could be better spent elsewhere. Because this would also be bad stewardship, financially speaking.

  

However, if we understand that the Church is about creating a common space for God’s people to come together—to share in our gifts, and to strategize how to better share the Good News of God’s love, to be better prepared to be part of the Jesus Movement, then I think we could understand our giving to be more than a matter of fundraising. Instead, I think we could even say that the gift of our time, talent and treasure becomes far more than filling the gaps, and paying the bills. What these things become are real offerings to God. They become valuable in whatever mysterious way that the widow’s coins are valuable. They’re priceless—invaluable and precious to God because they become a sacrifice, and gift to God.

So, is this a stewardship sermon? Yes. Technically. Please support the work and ministry of this church through financial giving, as well as giving your time and your talents.

But this is also kind of an anti-stewardship sermon in a way—because I would say that if our only understanding of financial support, or offering our time and talent is about keeping the institutional church alive—well, I’d say stop. Because the institutional church has been on life-support for a long time, and that’s not the same as being alive.

However, if you’re interested in investing in changing lives, or taking part in transforming the world… If you’re interested in supporting Kingdom work rather than church work; I would ask you to prayerfully consider what you will give in the coming year. Of course, I mean more than just money—I mean consider how we each will invest of ourselves to add to the mission that God has called this Church to in the world. And I hope that each of us will find a way to give extravagantly (just like the widow) from our time, talent and treasure to support our work as the Jesus Movement.