“More Than Words”

Psalm 66

 

Warning!  Some of you may be offended by this sermon.  Why?  The “M” word will be used extensively and explicitly throughout it.  We all know what the “M” word is: MONEY! 

An old story: One Sunday a preacher is holding forth on the subject of financial stewardship.  He describes the church as a helpless infant, and proclaims, “It’s time for this baby to crawl!”   From the congregation come shouts of, “Let it crawl, brother; let it crawl!”

Getting warmed up the preacher said, “Then this baby needs to walk.”  Again the responses, “Let it walk, brother, let it walk!”

Really getting into it, the good reverend says, “And then this baby needs to run!”  “Let it run, brother, let it run!”

Coming to the big finish, the preacher man proclaims, “And then it needs to fly!”  “Amen, brother!  Let it fly! Let it fly!”

“And what will it take to get this baby off the ground,” he asked, “Money!”  And a quiet voice in the back says, “Let it walk, brother, let it walk.”

It seems that he hit a nerve, the same nerve that I’m about to risk hitting.  If the truth be told, there is more than enough money in this church to double its budget.  That’s the good news.  The bad news is that it’s still in our pockets.  This church has the potential to fly in the name of Jesus, but it only has enough financial fuel to walk. 

Let’s take a few moments to contrast the mood of today’s psalm to the mood of most modern American Christians when the topic of financial stewardship is addressed.  The words of today’s psalm flow forth from someone who is experiencing a powerful sense of joy and thanksgiving.  This man knows that he has been blessed by God in tangible ways.  More than that, he is acutely aware of God’s power to create, re-create, and redeem all that is.  He is also aware of how God has worked redemptively in the life of Israel.  He sings the praises of a Lord God who brought his people out of their bondage in Egypt and led them to a land all their own.  He reminds his listeners of God’s merciful willingness to bring his chastened people home from their exile in Babylon. 

And then he gets personal, describing his own deliverance by God.  In the process he confesses that he had been a sinner, but through the grace of God had been able to repent of his sin, let it go, and be forgiven of it.  In the aftermath of this redemptive experience he had made promises.  On this day he is keeping those promises, bringing to God multiple sacrifices – expensive gifts – voluntary offerings by which he gives thanks for God’s goodness.  He didn’t just talk or sing about what he was going to give God, he actually gave it.  As he did so he let everyone within his hearing know just how much his Lord had done for him.  He was a happy man, a grateful man, a man full of praise, but most of all a man who acknowledged the grace and mercy of the Lord by way of sacrificial giving.  What he gave that day was not cheap.  It was costly, but in his eyes God deserved no less.

In today’s Gospel reading Jesus heals ten lepers.  Only one comes back to thank him.  The other nine take their healing for granted and go on their merry way.  They were more than willing to take what the Lord offered them.  They were not willing to give anything back.  No praise.  No thanksgiving.  Not even an acknowledgement of God’s goodness.

How often do we take God’s grace for granted?  Or accept his many blessings as our due?  Or consider his good creation our very own playground that we can trash as we please?  How often do we recklessly, foolishly, and frivolously spend what God graciously enables us to earn?  How many of us are in debt up to our ears because we cannot say no to the false god of consumerism worshiped by our culture?  How often do we consider the money we have to simply be another means to the end that is our own pleasure?  How often do we fail to say thank you to God?  How often do we present our tithes and offerings to the Lord in a spirit of joyful worship and thanksgiving?      

Odds are that we’d rather not answer those questions.  We definitely refuse to do so before our brothers and sisters in the Lord.  We are often reluctant to confess them in our prayers to God.  Worst of all, we tune out the Spirit-induced whisperings of these answers in our hearts.  The hard reality of our self-centered ingratitude is indeed a hard pill to swallow. 

We love being forgiven.  We rejoice in our salvation.  We enjoy and benefit from the nurture, fellowship, and care of the church.  We make a big deal out of living in “one nation under God.”  But how often do we acknowledge the source of such gifts?  How thankful are we for them?  How far are we willing to go in response to God’s goodness?

Are we willing to approach God in the same spirit as did the writer of today’s psalm?  Are we willing to sing God’s praises to the highest heaven?  Are we willing to make an extra-special effort, maybe even going out of our way to say thank you to our Lord?  Are we willing to make extravagant sacrifices in the name of Jesus?

There go those tough questions again.   Worship questions.  Stewardship questions.  And as much as we hate to admit it, money questions.  What’s our attitude toward money?  How do we earn it?  How do we spend it?  Are we accountable for what we do with it?  Do we tithe?  Do we pledge?  Do we give to our Lord’s work off the top?  Or do we pay God with whatever might be left over? 

I can’t answer these questions for you.  I can only answer them for myself.  And sometimes I don’t like those answers.  I’m not comfortable with knowing that my checkbook register sometimes exposes a lack of faithfulness on my part.  I don’t enjoy knowing that my financial stewardship is a poor reflection on my discipleship.  It hurts when I add up all the money I have wasted in my life.  It really hurts when I consider some of the places where I’ve wasted it. 

The good news is that Jesus loves me anyway.  The better news is, that through the guidance of the Holy Spirit and God’s gift of bringing Sandy into my life, I’m much more disciplined when it comes to money.  Out of that discipline has come a freedom and ability to more generously give to the Lord and his work.  In some ways I’m like that leper who realized the depths of God’s mercy, and then thanked Jesus for it.   I finally turned around and started acknowledging my debt to God in tangible ways.  The words of faith have always come easy.  As I’ve matured in Christ the acts of faith have become more obvious in my life.  And nowhere is that more evident than it is in my financial stewardship.

I’m not bragging.  Nor am I complaining.  I’m definitely not setting myself up as a paragon of good stewardship.  I’m simply sharing a bit of my journey in a way that I hope will encourage you in yours.  Through the wondrous grace of my Lord Jesus Christ, I’m no longer like one of those ungrateful lepers healed by Jesus.  Conversely, I have a way to go before my attitude toward giving comes anywhere close to that of the psalmist.  I hope to get there, and I hope you will join me in the journey toward that place.

In my heart I know that God has provided this church with all that it needs to fly.  For the sake of Jesus, let us not keep her grounded by our unwillingness to open our hearts and our wallets to the Lord.  As that part of Christ’s body that we are here in this place, let us not be satisfied with hugging the ground while God is calling us to trust him, let go, and soar to the heavens.  If that takes money, then so be it.  Amen.