Year C, Proper 25: Stewardship 101

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark

Year C, Proper 25

The Very Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Dean & Rector

In our reading from Joel, we have this astounding, poetic, evocation of the abundance and inexhaustibility of the generosity of God towards the people of Israel and by extension the entire created order. Yes, you’ve known the swarming locusts of illness. Yes, you’ve known the hopper of loss. Yes, you’ve known the cutter of a broken relationships and the army of loneliness. But, God says (and it’s a big but) but I’m not done with you! My abundance, my ability to bring new life out of apparent dead ends, my power to draw fruitfulness from barrenness, my power to make for you a home when all you’ve known is exile and wilderness wanderings, is inexhaustible. Be alert! Be watchful! Utter your “Yes!” to the invitation that’s been on offer from the foundation of the world, and you’ll see that I’m doing a new thing!

And then Joel begins to sketch out what he’s understood of the abundance and fruitfulness that God has in store for the people of Israel. The early rains will pour down for their vindication. The threshing floor will be full of grain, and the vats overflow with wine. They will eat in plenty and be satisfied and they will never be put to shame. And then comes the clincher—“You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel… I will pour out my spirit on all flesh.”

I remember when I was being interviewed by the Vestry, someone asked me the question—“This is a really hard job for one person, why do you want to do it? Why not go to a place where there’s a big staff, a large endowment, and you get to take regular vacation?” I paused for a moment and got still, because the thought had certainly crossed my mind. Then I said something really simple—“Because I know the Holy Spirit is in this place and it’s my job to follow where the Spirit is leading.” It wasn’t too different from Jacob waking up after grappling with the Angel at Peniel, rubbing his eyes and declaring, “Surely, God is in this place!” (To which God said, “Duh! But don’t call me Shirley.”)

God is in our midst. God is doing a new thing. And it’s our call as a faith family to follow where the Spirit is leading us. To live and give generously to support the work God is doing in this place. That means taking some time to prayerfully reflect on our priorities and to take stock of how we support God’s mission in and through this place. We spend our money in all sorts of ways, and our consumer culture banks on the notion that accumulating new toys will bring us the happiness that we find so allusive.

Stewardship is really about recognizing the basic truth that our happiness, true and lasting happiness that is not subject to the ups and downs of daily life, is found in God and God alone. If there’s one thing the people of Israel have to teach us it’s that all those substitute forms of happiness ultimately disappoint.

Sacrificial living and giving is about recognizing the unfathomable generosity of God who never gives up on us. Who reaches out again and again to draw us back to the peace that passes all understanding, that unshakable bedrock of life in Him. Sacrificial living and giving is about recognizing, recalling, remembering everything that God has done for us to show us the way to the true happiness for which we are made—in calling Abram and Sarai out of retirement, in leading the people of Israel through the Sea and feeding them in the wilderness, in raising up cranky prophets who call the people back to where happiness is truly found, and finally in the giving of God’s only Son to become human that we might touch, taste, see, hear, and smell what love looks like. There is nowhere God won’t go, no situation God won’t enter into—even death on a cross outside the city walls on a garbage heap—in order to show us how much God loves us that we might be that love for others.

Sacrificial living and giving is about setting aside those narratives of scarcity and lack, of there not being enough, and knowing that if we make the journey into generosity God is will meet us there. Sacrificial living and giving is about the recognition that God is in our midst and in co-operating with God’s presence and action we participate in the making real God’s dream for the world.

That’s why stewardship is not just about budgets. Sure we need to keep the lights on. Yes, we have a massive and aging physical plant that requires a lot of upkeep (one broken lock on one door costs between $1,500 and $3,000 to fix for goodness sake!). Yes, we have to pay insurance to the tune of $60,000/year. But stewardship is about a lot more than buildings and maintenance. It’s not just a tip for a nice service where the music accorded with our tastes or something in the sermon resonated with us. It’s not just a fee for a service provided, or a membership fee that once paid allows entrance into an exclusive club.

You see, that’s what’s off with the Pharisee in our Gospel. He sees giving as ticking a box, as a transactional fulfilment of a requirement. And what’s the result? Well, he’s pretty darn pleased with himself and thanks God that he’s not like those other poor schleps who haven’t paid their dues. But what he misses, why he goes away “unjustified” or not quite right with God, is that he approaches giving from the place of obligation, duty, requirement and transaction. He gives, but he hasn’t yet made the journey in generosity. His life hasn’t yet come to reflect and participate in the generosity of the generous God to whom he gives lip service.

That’s why stewardship is really about discipleship. Stewardship is really about becoming a little more generous so as to participate in the generosity of God. It’s about people. It’s about relationships. It’s about spreading the good news of the Gospel and helping people to know themselves as beloved in a culture of shame, exclusion, and fear. Journeying into generosity is a spiritual practice that’s meant to show us that God is in our midst, that God can provide more than we can ever ask or imagine, and that it is in living and giving sacrificially that we find the peace, joy, and happiness for which our hearts are made.

It’s one of the most consistent things I’ve seen in my life thus far—that people who connect with the generosity of God and living from that generosity are the happiest people I’ve ever met. There’s a trust and assurance in what I call the “way of the opened hand.” They find that in giving they receive far more than they gave in the first place. Giving generously bleeds over into all the other aspects of their lives—they’ve got more time for others, they welcome the stranger, they find themselves spending more time with God in prayer and serving others.

Conversely, the people who struggle the most, who seem most unhappy, are those who live from fear, scarcity, and lack. There’s a certain stuck, or locked-in quality to lives lived according to what I call the “way of the balled fist.” When we live the way of the open hand, we find that we are actually going with the grain of the universe, with the stream of love that flows at the heart of all creation. Generosity brings us into line with the way things really are. Everything else is swimming upstream against the current, against the way we were made to be.

So giving generously is a practice, a  holy habit, that helps us to set our priorities and give our time, talents, and treasure towards that which builds up loving, liberating, and life-giving relationships with God, our neighbor and creation. Giving generously teaches us trust. And there’s no doubt it’s scary. I found that out when I asked whether we could live without cable t.v. and contribute more to the Church. But, I asked myself, did I think the Israelites weren’t ever afraid? Did I think that Paul, after everyone deserted him, didn’t feel a pang of fear? Of course they did, but they didn’t let fear determine who and whose they were. They reminded themselves that God is in their midst and stepped with fear and trembling into where the Spirit was leading them trusting that what looks like a desolate valley will in God’s time be turned into a place of springs covered with pools of water.

Over the next few weeks, you’ll be hearing from various members of the congregation about how what God is doing in this place has touched and transformed their lives. You’ll hear how their journey into generosity actually deepened their relationship with God and showed them a new way of seeing and being in the world—a way of seeing and being that comes from the unshakeable ground of generous giving, patterning one’s life after the life of the generous God who poured Himself out like a libation for others to show us the way home. Surely God is in this place. The Spirit is on the move. The only question is whether we can keep up and follow after her with open hands.