Advent Lutheran Church

"The Discipleship of Money"

 

Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen.

 

            (Pastor Susan)  For over 20 years, Pastor Roger and I have preached here almost every Sunday.  And almost every Sunday, we’ve preached about stewardship, but I’ll bet you never noticed it.  That’s because we rarely mention the “m” word, and most folks think the word stewardship equals money.  But there should be a distinction made, because stewardship is NOT “fundraising,” so we tend to preach and teach in terms of discipleship - of the whole fabric of our relationships with God - which includes words like:  forgiveness, service, justice, call, reconciliation, grace, community, mercy, love and God’s Work. Our Hands.  In other words, we sort of preach “all stewardship all the time.”

            But why am I telling you this today?  Well, in our New Member Orientations, we make it a point to share our perspective on the interpretation of the Bible – where we’re coming from in preaching and teaching – that the Scripture is the inspired Word of God, and that it is the source and norm for our lives together.  So, today, in the middle of our pledging process (as we prayerfully consider what we intend to give in 2011), Pastor Roger and I want to share with your our perspectives on discipleship, specifically on the use of money.

            My story began when I was a young woman in my late 20’s, working in San Diego and attending St. Andrew’s Lutheran Church in La Mesa.  Oh, I had always given my nickels and dimes to the church when I was growing up, and once I got out on my own, I faithfully pulled my dollar bill out of my purse and put it into the plate each week.  One day it just occurred to me that I should no longer claim that my financial support of the ministries of the church were covered under my parents’ “umbrella,” but that it was time to take responsibility for myself, not only in my life, but in my giving as well!  It was “time to put on my grown-up pants,” as they say, and so I started giving at 1% with a promise to increase every year until I had reached a tithe of 10% of my income.

            That call, that stirring of the Spirit within me, began my journey of surrendering to God – bit by bit, until I was able to give myself to being a disciple of Jesus.  And I have to tell you, it is a wonderful feeling knowing that you are doing exactly what God wants you to do.

            (Pastor Roger)  My first real encounter with stewardship came while I was a member of a small Lutheran church in a bedroom community south of Chicago.  I had lived there for several years and had been active in a number of ministries at the church – adult classes and social ministry projects – so I wasn’t surprised one spring day when the pastor asked if I would serve as the Stewardship Committee chairman.  It was a new experience – I didn’t know much about stewardship – so I agreed.  Little did I know that the Stewardship Committee chairman was the Stewardship Committee.

            So I studied up on stewardship, became familiar with the economic nuts and bolts of running a congregation, and prepared the all-important Fall Stewardship Pledge Campaign.  One week before the campaign was to begin, the pastor pulled me aside.  “You know,” he said, “it is customary for the Stewardship Committee chairman to set the pace for giving in the congregation.”  That didn’t make much sense, since no one in the congregation knew what anyone else had pledged or was giving, so I think my pastor was trying to encourage me with a little Lutheran guilt. 

            It didn’t work (guilt never does, for long), but it did make me wonder: What if it was true?  I took a good, long look in the mirror and asked myself some questions.  What if only one person in the congregation set the pace for everyone else’s giving, and what if that one person was me?  What if only one person decided whether the ministry of Jesus Christ would flourish or shrivel, and that one person was me?

            And that’s when I began to take responsibility for my own discipleship.

            I had heard of the Biblical concept of the tithe, or giving 10 percent of one’s income to the work of God through the local church.  I had never done it, but now the idea seemed intriguing to me.  It was almost like an irritating attraction.  I wondered if I could actually do it.  So I ran the numbers.  I said to myself, “you’ve got to be kidding.”  But the numbers weren’t kidding.  But again, that irritating attraction was still there.

            So, understanding that it is easier to act your way into a new way of thinking than it is to think your way into a new way of acting, I took a deep breath and wrote the check.  I’ll always remember the way I felt the Sunday morning I dropped my pledge card and first check into the offering plate.  I said to myself, “This must be what the skydiver feels when he steps out of the place at 12,000 feet.  I know I’ve got my parachute, but there’s a whole lot of wide open space out there.”

            The primary feeling I had, though, was the feeling of exhilaration, of absolute freedom.  And I’ve never looked back.

            There is a myth that is pervasive in our society, and not only in our society but in the world.  That myth is the myth of scarcity.  It’s a myth that is fueled by a message that you and I encounter in a variety of ways each and every day.  The message is: You do not have enough.

            You do not have enough money, so grab all you can.

            You do not have enough popularity, so buy whatever you think will raise your esteem in the eyes of your friends and of strangers.

            You do not have enough security, so obsess over your investment portfolio.

            You do not have enough power, so dominate someone or something.

            You do not have enough time, so create and maintain a schedule that keeps you both frantic and exhausted at once.

            I believe that buying into this myth of scarcity puts us on the path to spiritual death, because it leads us directly away from the God of abundance.  This is the God who, at the very beginning of creation, said to plants and animals and birds and fish and humankind, “Be fruitful, be fruitful, be fruitful.”  Everything was to multiply the absolute goodness that was overflowing from this generous God.  But when we take our hearts and minds and commitments away from this God of abundance, we open ourselves to the myth of scarcity, and to a life that is powered by fear of not having enough.

            I believe that discipleship is the ongoing struggle that we face between our attraction to this God of abundance, on the one hand; and our acceptance of the myth of scarcity, on the other.  Ultimately it’s a struggle over who and what controls us.  For Christians, there is only one answer to that struggle, and that is Christ.  Always and only, Christ.          

            (Pastor Susan) Today is Christ the King Sunday, the end of the Church Year.  For an entire year we have studied Jesus’ life:  his teaching, his healing, his miracles, his death and Resurrection.  Then, confident that we have been saved for eternal life, we reflected on our own growth in discipleship in this world that God loves.  Also today we say goodbye to this past year’s gospel storyteller, Luke.  And I invite you to take a look at the cross in the chancel as we ponder together Luke’s last illustration for us:  Jesus on the cross – crucified between two common criminals – a graphic image of discipleship rooted in trust and the love of God. 

            The religious leaders around the cross scoffed and yelled at Jesus, “Save yourself!”  The soldiers mocked him and yelled, “Save yourself!”  Even one dying with him questions him and says, “Save yourself.”  Three times the world said to Jesus:  “Save yourself!”  And Jesus said, “No.” 

            No, Jesus does not listen to what the world screams all around him.  He saves nothing for himself.  But he spends his life - his whole life - for you.  AMEN.