“Follow the Money”

Mark 10:17-31

In today’s text a rich man asked Jesus what he needed to do in order to inherit eternal life. He didn’t like the answer he got: “… go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” The man was shocked and grief-stricken. He refused to do what Jesus asked and walked away. In the words of William Barclay, “… he had never stolen, and he had never defrauded anyone but neither had he ever been, nor could he compel himself to be, positively and sacrificially generous. It may be respectable never to take anything from someone. It is Christian to give everything to someone.”

The man was respectable. He did all the right things required of him as a citizen and as a strict follower of the Law of Moses. But Jesus doesn’t call us to be respectful. Nor does he ask us to tie ourselves up in knots trying to keep a host of religious rules. He asks us to follow him. And we cannot unabashedly follow him if there is anything in our lives that we cannot let go of in order to follow him.

It’s not that Jesus doesn’t want us to have our needs taken care of. It’s more an issue of our being willing to place our dependence on God and God alone: not money, not possessions, and definitely not all that stuff our culture tells us that we just have to have in order to be happy. In his book The Cost of Discipleship Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “The only man who has the right to say that he is justified by grace alone is the man who has left all to follow Jesus.” Nothing more or less than the grace of God revealed in Jesus Christ can save us. In the end that is the only place we can place our faith and dependence: grace.

If you have been paying attention at all this morning you are aware that the only thing between Grace Presbyterian Church and financial ruin is God’s grace and protection. No savings account. An almost empty checking account. No financial cushion. Our only option is to place ourselves in God’s hands.

That doesn’t mean being passive. God expects us to do our part. A major portion of our part is sincere and humble prayer, beginning with prayers of thanksgiving. We are abundantly blessed here. This church has tons of creativity, resourcefulness, and intelligence. God expects us to use all of these things in serving him.

God also expects us to use our individual financial resources. One way we can start doing that is by paying attention to this morning’s prayer of confession: “God of abundance [and he is a God of abundance not scarcity], through your grace we are blessed… but we cling to our goods and want even more. When called upon to give sacrificially, we go away grieving, for we have many possessions. We are afraid to give them up… forgive our selfish fears… Turn our stinginess into generosity.”

Through God’s grace we are blessed with much, and these blessings are not ours to do with as we please. The bottom line is that we own nothing. We possess nothing. Everything belongs to God. We are only stewards over it. Faithful stewards do not fearfully hoard their God-given resources. Faithful stewards remember that ours is a God of abundance not scarcity. Faithful stewards are not anxious; they trust God to provide. Just as we as a congregation have to place our church in God’s hands, we as individuals have to place ourselves in God’s hands. Then and only then will we be willing to give more to the work of the Kingdom.

In the aftermath of Tuesday’s Session meeting I once again turned to my prayer journal, and as it of happens, my devotional readings were right on the nose. A coincidence; I think not. The proper word is providence. Here are some things I read. First from Max Lucado in a prayer for a friend dealing with the greatness of God, “Your provisions are abundant for our needs… You are never early, never late… Your plan is perfect… Bewildering. Puzzling. Troubling… But perfect.”

And then from two anonymous sources: “It’s possible during a difficult time to become side-tracked in self-pity, anxiety, anger, and fear… I may feel like I’m swimming against the tide, and that’s all right. All I have to do is my best… Lord, may we learn from our mistakes.”

There are some important lessons in all that. God does provide abundantly. He’s neither early nor late. His plan is perfect. At times like these that plan may be bewildering, puzzling, and troubling. But God’s plans for us are perfect, as is his timing. And in his time and according to his plan God does provide. Our only response to this is faith in God’s plan. Trusting God we do not let ourselves be side-tracked by in self-pity, anxiety, anger, or fear. We are swimming against the tide, at least at this moment. But we must not forget that all of this is in accordance with God’s timing and God’s plan. All we can do is our best, and part of doing our best is learning from our mistakes.

Our Lord has presented us not with a problem, but with a challenge. He is asking us to respond in faith not fear. He is calling us to put our trust in him and not in the dictates of our culture. Culture says hang on tight to what you have. The Lord says let go. Culture urges us to hoard our resources and be stingy with them. The Lord is urging us to generously share them. Just as the rich man in today’s text was caught between these two demands, so now are we. Do we trust God or not? Are we going to follow Jesus or sadly walk away from him? How are we going to respond in times such as these?

My own response to this crisis has been surprising. I’m at peace. I don’t feel sorry for myself or afraid for the church. I’m not mad at God for calling me one more time to a church with financial difficulties. I’m neither playing the “poor-pitiful-me” nor the “Lord-get-me-out-of-here-card.” And above all, I’m not willing to avoid long-term responsibility by opting for short-term expediency. There is no quick fix. While there is a sense of urgency, there is not sense of desperation. I trust God, and I trust you. Together we’re going to get through this.

My sense of urgency has nothing to do with this present crisis. It has to do with being faithful to my calling. Once again Max Lucado’s words struck home this past week: “Time slips. Days pass. Years fade. And life ends. And what we came to do must be done while there is still time.” I’m sixty years old. At best I have six or seven more years on ministry before I retire. I very much have a sense of needing to do what I’ve been called to do while there is still time.

And what might that be? I sincerely believe that God has called me to this place to preach, teach, and demonstrate faithful financial stewardship. Beyond that I have no great, grand vision. My God-given task, as I understand it, is to work with you to build a strong financial foundation which my successors and future generations of members can use as a launching pad for the doing of mighty things for God. That’s not the most exciting end to a lifetime of ministry. It’s a rather plain and pedestrian one, but it’s a very necessary one.

It’s not the one I would have chosen for myself. Like that rich man I want Jesus to pat me on the head and tell me that everything I’ve done and everything I’m presently doing is enough. I want to hear him call me a good and faithful servant now not six years from now. And the temptation is to take an easier way out, to be thought of as that good and faithful servant without having to sacrifice anything.

But Jesus isn’t offering me an easier way out. It’s his way or the highway. And that highway can scary at times. By preaching and teaching faithful financial stewardship I risk offending you. I risk your anger and rejection. I risk being told what I’ve been told in other places, that your financial stewardship is none of my business. As someone who likes to be liked and hates conflict, needing to take those risks is as painful prospect for me as selling all he had and giving it to the poor was for that man in today’s text.

But even as I voice those concerns, in my head I hear the words of Bill McSwegin, a colleague who recently passed away: “You always get the problem you don’t want.” And if Bill is looking down from heaven at me right now, I bet he’s laughing his fanny off. Because he knows how much I always hated hearing that.

But Bill knew the truth: faithful discipleship will always involve dealing with the problem you don’t want. It will always involve hearing Jesus say, “Go, pick up that particular cross; then, come, follow me.” As it is with any need to deal with God’s plan and the timing of it, it will be bewildering, puzzling, and troubling. I will feel as if I’m swimming against the tide. So, who wants to go swimming with me? Amen.