“If Not Now, When?”
Haggai 1:1-11
Grace
is the first church that I’ve served in a long time that is less than 100 years
old. This building is on no one’s list
of historical landmarks. It is most
definitely not, praise the Lord, a shrine to the past.
This
facility is a means to an end – mission in the name of Christ – not an end in
itself. It is not a shrine. It is not an idol. It is a building. This particular building is, however, a gift
from God and a tangible resource for which we are accountable. It is not to be abused or neglected. It must be kept up. We cannot allow it to become unsafe or
unsightly.
More
than that, it is our visible face to the world.
Its condition says a lot about who we are. It is a place where Christians gather to learn
about Jesus and fellowship with one another.
It is here where we are nurtured in the faith. It is here that we teach our children and new
Christians about Christ and guide them in the ways of faithful
discipleship.
It
is also a place of worship, and as such needs to be dressed up in its Sunday
best, not necessarily all new and shiny, but at least clean and inviting. It is holy ground, where God’s Word is
preached and the sacraments are administered.
It is here that we fellowship with our risen Lord. This sanctuary is a vessel that contains some
of our most sacred memories: baptisms, confirmations, weddings, and
funerals. For some of us it may very
well be where we first met Jesus or fell in love with our spouse. In ways that are unique to each of us this is
a special place.
And it is here that I stand talking to you about
stewardship: the stewardship of this facility and the stewardship of money as
it relates to the care and maintenance of it.
I can almost hear some of your inner groaning: “Here he goes with that money thing again. Can’t he preach about something else? Will this stewardship season never end?”
The
“official” stewardship season will end November 23. The spiritual season of stewardship, however,
never ends. And yes, I’m preaching about
money again. But I’m in good
company. Jesus talked about money a
lot. He also had some things to say
about the misuse of his Father’s house: “It
is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer’: but you are making it a den
of [thieves]”
I
also have another good example. His name
is Haggai. He was a post-exilic prophet
who challenged God’s people about their stewardship. He was the one who let them know that it was
high time that they finished rebuilding the Temple. And he didn’t tiptoe around the issue. He stepped on toes and made people mad.
Haggai
wasn’t a prophet in the mold of an Isaiah.
His was a different king of ministry, one that was short and got quick
results. As Eugene Peterson puts it, “Compared with the great prophets who preached
repentance and salvation, Haggai’s message doesn’t sound very ‘spiritual’. But in God’s economy it is perhaps unwise to
rank our assigned work as either more or less spiritual. We are not angels; we inhabit space. Material – bricks and mortar, boards and
nails – keeps us grounded and connected with the ordinary world in which we
necessarily live out our extraordinary beliefs.
Haggai keeps us in touch with those times in our lives when repairing
the building where we worship is an act of obedience every bit as important as
praying in that place of worship.”
Keeping
God’s house safe, clean, attractive, and accessible is a spiritual exercise, a
form of that spiritual discipline we call stewardship. We must never forget that this building isn’t
just any building. This is God’s house,
a house of prayer, preaching, and discernment.
It is an instrument that we use to glorify God. Although it is not an end in itself –
something that many Christians seem to forget -it is a means to the ends of
witnessing, evangelizing, making disciples, worshipping, and learning. It is God’s house, and we are God’s
housekeepers.
Haggai
pushed the recently returned exiles from Babylon to remember that they were the
keepers of God’s house. That Temple they
had stopped rebuilding wasn’t just another building in need of
restoration. It was God’s house. Haggai was neither gentle nor shy as he reminded
those folks that in spite of all their difficulties, they had found the time,
energy, and resources to build fine houses for themselves. Thus said the Lord, “Is it a time for you yourselves to live in your paneled houses, while
this house lies in ruins?”
Haggai
also let them know that some of their troubles were God’s way of letting them
know that he wasn’t pleased with their lack of concern for his house. They were God’s way of letting them know he
was unhappy about their neglect of it.
Odds are that the people addressed by Haggai assumed that they were
simply going through a patch of bad luck.
It was a matter of cause and effect.
They were reaping what they had sown.
Again, thus says the Lord, “You
have looked for much, and lo, it [amounted] to little; and when you brought it
home I blew it away. Why? Because my house lies in ruins, while all of
you hurry off to your own houses.”
There
many reasons why the Temple remained unfinished, some of them valid. Valid or not they were not an excuse for
their inaction. In his commentary on the
text Page Kelley puts it this way, “The
people of Jerusalem justified their neglect of the Temple by saying that it was
not the right time to undertake a building program. Who has not heard this age-old excuse? It has been the refuge of timid souls for
generations. If we waited until all
circumstances were favorable, we would never accomplish anything, either for
ourselves or for the Lord… The real problem was that the people had grown
accustomed to living in a city without a Temple and lacked the initiative to
change the situation. Spiritual inertia
can be a deadly disease.”
Haggai
was quick and forceful in diagnosing this inertia and bringing to light its
underlying cause. God’s people, so
recently delivered from bondage and exile, had gotten their priorities
reversed. They had placed their hopes,
dreams, wishes, and wants ahead of God’s will.
Instead of thankfully addressing God’s desire for a restored Temple they
had put their own business first. They
built fine houses for themselves while God’s house lay in ruins.
This
isn’t post-exilic Judea. We are not
recently returned exiles from Babylon.
This particular house of God we call Grace Presbyterian Church does not
lie in ruins. It has its issues in terms
of its design and construction, but then what building doesn’t? It is beginning to show its age as wear and
tear have taken their inevitable toll.
Such is the lot of any structure built with human hands, be it a church,
a school, an apartment complex, or a single family dwelling. Age takes its toll on them all.
Let’s
be clear, nobody, and especially not me, is suggesting that we tear down this
building and build again from scratch.
Tempting though that might be when the roof springs yet another leak, it
would be absurd. That, however, does not
mean that this building couldn’t use an upgrade or two to make it more accessible
and user-friendly.
Better
lighting is in order. New carpets
wouldn’t hurt. Remodeling that pantry
the health department calls our kitchen, turning it into a real kitchen, would
make Warm Nights and fellowship events a lot easier. Our restrooms need updating. The church office really needs to be on the
ground floor. Our Christian education
and youth programs are hindered by space limitations. As we continue to grow, and if we want to
keep growing, some serious remodeling, maybe even expansion, will be necessary
– and expensive.
So
this morning I’m asking you to consider some of the same questions Haggai asked
centuries ago: “Do we consider God’s
house any less important than we do our own houses? Is this place any less deserving of updates
and renovations than are our own homes?
Are we willing to turn a blind eye to things here that we would never
tolerate at home? Are we willing to
settle for less than the best for the house of the Lord?”
It’s
so easy to unconsciously surrender to the kind of spiritual inertia suffered by
those folks to whom Haggai spoke. It’s
so easy to settle for less than the best for God’s house. It’s so easy to keep saying that this just
isn’t the right time to spend money on God’s house. It’s so easy to emulate Scarlet O’Hara’s
approach to reality in Gone with the Wind: “I’ll worry about that tomorrow.”
I’m
aware of the realities. We are in a
recession. We have yet to rebuild our
membership back to what it was in Grace’s heyday. There are a host of valid reasons why this is
not the right time to spend a lot of money on this building. The pragmatic side of me keeps screaming in
my heart about being careful, cautious, and conservative – about playing it
safe.
But
another side of me, that side that is governed by a Spirit-influenced sense of
what I call holy imagination, is speaking a soft and gentle yet firm message
into my heart about daring to energize and employ some of what I recently
called holy recklessness. As pragmatism
loudly and clearly says not now, that other side of me keeps asking, if not
now, when? Amen.