This Gift of Love –Part IV: “Indescribable Gifts”

This Gift of Love - Part IV

“Indescribable Gifts”

by Robert J. Elder

November 7, 2010

Isaiah 55:6-11

II Corinthians 9:6-15

Probably some of us were in communicant or confirmation classes in the days when the Shorter Catechism of the Westminster Confession was still actively employed as a teaching tool. Even if we never memorized the Shorter Catechism, we might at least know what a catechism is: a series of questions and answers to be memorized for public recitation. The Shorter Catechism consisted of 107 questions and answers – based on material from the great Westminster Confession of Faith. Even if we don’t know the whole of the Shorter Catechism, probably many of us know its first and most famous question, along with the equally well-known answer:

Q. What is the chief end of man?

A. Man’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.

An old friend of mine once reflected that “man spends too much of his time sitting on his chief end as it is…” Seriously though, this series of questions and answers was considered a pretty complete statement of belief…so complete that many years ago a prize was endowed at my alma mater, Princeton Theological Seminary, which continues to award $150 to any seminarian who memorizes the entire 107 questions and answers of the catechism. That seemed like a lot more money back in 1973 than it does today, and not everyone tries for this prize any more, but many still do.

Now, if that first affirmation of the catechism is in any way still true, if indeed the principle purpose of humanity is the glorification and enjoyment of God, then how does that get worked out in life?

It seems to me that Paul answered a related question in II Corinthians. This time the question was “What is the purpose of Christian giving?” The answer is provided in the 11th verse of today’s reading and is very similar to the affirmation concerning the chief end of man. One important purpose of giving is to produce thanksgiving to God. Think about it. A gift sown in Corinth will reap a harvest of thanksgiving in Jerusalem.

I think I understand church giving to a certain extent. Usually, I see it from the human point of view. I tend to focus my attention on the results of giving that lie in the human dimension: the relief of suffering, the carrying on of some great work, the creation of new programs to meet changing needs within the church fellowship. But Paul, trained as a Pharisee, knew the centrality of the two great commandments of the Law: [1] to love the Lord with heart, soul, and strength, and [2] to love neighbor as self. He knew these two commandments to be inseparable. So in writing to the Corinthians concerning the collection for the poor in Jerusalem, he moved freely and naturally between the subjects of collection as a response to the needs of others and as a testimony to the glory of God.

The great commandment in the law is love of both neighbor and God, not one to the exclusion of the other. In our practice of Christian stewardship, the chief end of human life – to glorify God and enjoy God – can often get squeezed out of the picture if we focus too exclusively on another purpose of Christian living: to be of service to others.

Paul reminded the Corinthians that the main reason for giving – the main reason for living – is to bring glory to God. Their gift would result in shouts of praise in Jerusalem. That was a worthy end in itself, quite apart from the relief the offering would provide.

Paul reminds us that Christ became human in order to glorify God; so we give what we can to increase that glory. If our giving loses its origin and purpose in God and his grace, both it and our faith will shrivel, perhaps even die out altogether.

We reflected on this idea once in a weekly Bible study group I used to lead. We seldom think of our worship – our praise, for instance – as a worthy work of Christian life. Most often we are inclined to speak of things we did or did not “get out of worship.” We approach worship as receivers, empty vessels waiting to be filled. But another view must enter our thinking about worship, indeed about the whole of our lives as believers. Our chief work in worship – as our chief end in life – is to bring glory to God. When we stand and half-heartedly sing a hymn, or come to worship more ready to be distracted than to concentrate on our work of praise, we become poor stewards of our time before God. In Christian worship, there is but one audience, and that is God. We are the performers. Our work of praise is important, equally important as love of neighbor.

Think of all the agrarian references Paul made in these few verses. These would please all the folks who labored in the community garden project this past summer. He spoke of gifts for the collection as a sowing, the receiving of the gifts a reaping. He spoke of abundance, which is the word every farmer longs to use in reference to the current year’s crop. He wrote that their righteousness was like a harvest, and what was the harvest to be? All this bountiful sowing would result in produce – a harvest of thanksgiving to God. Not only would wants be supplied, but the harvest would overflow with thanksgivings. People see the good that believers can do, as Jesus said they must, and glorify not us but God.

There was another dynamic at work in Corinth and Jerusalem that we might not be so able to see because of the distance of the centuries between Corinth and Vancouver. But the fact was that the Jewish Christians in Jerusalem weren’t so sure that the Gentiles of Corinth – or anywhere else – could really be believers. They had had their doubts all along about the non-Jewish Christians. A serious rift between Jews and Gentiles in the early church was always simmering just under the surface. Paul was acutely aware of this. What could heal the divisions?

The book of Acts describes Paul’s opposition to every effort to place Gentile Christians at some lower level than Jewish believers. He knew that the gift for the suffering Christians in Jerusalem would help maintain and further the unity of the body of Christ.

When he wrote about the “test of this service,” he knew that folks in Jerusalem wondered just how far the gospel might have gone in winning the hearts of the Gentiles. But in Christian love, a test is never a mere judgement. It is also an opportunity for growth. In this case, Paul could see it was an opportunity for growth on both sides of the need that was to be addressed.

The offering would result in a crop of praise from both giver and recipient, and the ultimate good would be that God would be praised.

Perhaps one more item needs to be addressed before we leave these two chapters of II Corinthians where we have spent these four Sundays. It is the subject of tithing.

Now, we will have had four sermons from these two chapters over the last few weeks. I have had a handful of conversations in which the message was on the order of, “Rob, I have heard that some people may be getting tired of hearing about money each week.” Me too. I get weary of the unending pitches for money which seem to permeate our society. On the other hand, I have also heard from other people who have said, “It’s about time we heard sermons like this!” Such is the life of a preacher! So I looked through the last three sermons – based on these two chapters of II Corinthians – and do you know, I found very few uses of the word “money?” What is written all over Paul’s letter – what I have attempted to reflect in my sermons with you – is the theology of Christian stewardship. That is quite a different matter, for it describes a style of life, a form of discipleship, rather than a one dimensional begging for funds.

As one scholar put it, in II Corinthians Paul shows us “what happens when, in the name of Christ who gave himself on the cross, we learn how to give.”(1) That is a worthy subject far transcending money matters.

We know that Paul’s long-term goal was not fund-raising but disciple-raising for one reason if for no other: Throughout these 2 chapters, he never once mentioned the Old Testament principle of the tithe – the giving of 10% of what one has. Isn’t that strange? Consequently, I haven’t mentioned it until just now. Here we have Paul, a Jew of the strict party of the Pharisees, who would have had a full awareness of the concept of tithing, not even bringing the subject up. Why?

Some(2) have said that what he says in II Corinthians 8 and 9 suggests he would have rejected tithing as a rigid rule. He was aware that for those on a bread line, tithing could mean disaster – they themselves could become the objects of charity. For someone in upper income brackets to say, “I have tithed, I have given enough” would be equally wrong. Legalism and generosity make bad companions. No rule governs God’s love for us; none should govern our love for God in return.

Paul was aware of the poverty of the Macedonians and didn’t even expect their participation in the offering, much less a 10% tithe. The wealthier Corinthians, on the other hand, were not restricted by the tithe and were free to give beyond the 10% demanded by the Old Testament principle.

When Paul said, “God is able to give you more than you need,” we are to reflect on a life directed not to amassing possessions, but to addressing needs. A life-style of Christian stewardship is one which offers itself increasingly, and is increasingly content with less. This is ample enough reason for a harvest of praise to God.

What more can we say, other than what Paul has said to us? When we consider the gospel which we have been given, free of charge, a gospel which has saved us and provides real hope for the world, we can join Paul in saying, “Thanks be to God for God’s inexpressible gift!”

___________________________

(1) This Service of Love, by Mark Landfried, © the Synod of the Trinity, 1978, p. 71.

(2) Second Corinthians, by Ernest Best, John Knox Press, 1987, p. 89.

This Gift of Love – Part III: “Not as an Exaction...”

This Gift of Love – Part III:

“Not as an Exaction...”

copyright © 2010 by Robert J. Elder

October 31, 2010

Psalm 112

II Corinthians 9:1-7

If we were organizing Paul’s appeal, we could have done things a lot differently than he did. The first change we might consider could be an appeal to people’s sense of obligation.1 We could report that everyone else is doing their share. We might encourage Paul to emphasize the institutional view of obligation. After all, your name is on the membership role, so you should do your part. This is like a more or less voluntary taxation or per capita apportionment. Someone said to me a while ago, “Sure my church pledge should go up, but all my other taxes are going up and I have no say over them.” My very thrifty Scottish grandfather, a certified public accountant, was sanguine about this sort of thing. He paid taxes in some depression years when acquaintances found ways to pay little or nothing, and when asked why he didn’t investigate avenues to avoid taxes, he usually responded saying something like, “I never mind paying taxes, it means I’m making money.” Taxation has been called the price of civilization.

This sort of appeal focuses on giving as paying dues, doing one’s bit, being a loyal member of a society or organization. Some people really respond to this. Others do not. Some people will respond when we make them sense an obligation. Others will become irritated and say we are trying to lay a guilt trip on them. Unfortunately, I can’t get very enthusiastic about stewardship efforts that press the issue obligation or duty, so I would have had a hard time trying to convince Paul to use such a method.

So if appeals to obligation fail, we might think to encourage Paul to consider appealing for gifts so that people might find self-satisfaction. Knowing we have done something for someone else can give us a warm inner glow. Never mind that though such gifts are certainly commendable, they are by this method a thinly disguised way of giving ourselves a gift. It is a proven way to raise money. Some people – when made aware that a gift to this cause or that is really a gift to themselves, because of all the self-satisfaction it will bring – will become extra generous, and so the gift might be larger than we even anticipated. Even so, a warm inner glow only goes so far. Some folks might need some satisfactions that are a little more public.

So, if we were running Paul’s first commitment program, we might appeal to people’s sense of prestige. That would be a stewardship program for those who care enough to send the very best. I once visited a church in the Northeast that had a large leather book lying open on the chancel steps. I looked at the page to which it was opened and read, “Members who have pledged $2,000 or more to our Church.” And the page wasn’t blank, either! It can be good to be proud of our giving, but it always can be a danger too: that the purpose of the gift turns into a way to advertise the greater glory of the giver. I haven’t the resources to be the most impressive giver anyway, so this sort of a fund-raising technique wouldn’t get me very excited either.

Apparently Paul had it right all along. He ignored what we might call fund-raising methods. Paul persevered on the high road with a theme that he raised at the beginning. Where the world might make its appeals for funds on the basis of need, obligation, self-satisfaction, prestige, sympathy – in short, on something people have done – Paul focused his energy almost entirely on what God has done.

Paul used an important word in the first verse of today’s reading. Our translators have given us the phrase “offering for the saints”. Paul’s word was diakonía, the root of our word “deacon.” We may hear “offering,” and think of a Sunday collection. But the Corinthians heard diakonía and thought of service or ministry. Paul was literally saying, “I write to you about the service – or ministry – for the saints.” Paul set the service to the poor within the context of service to God. It’s a reality the church must always keep foremost in our prayers and actions, otherwise a congregation could degenerate into little more than another in a long line of fund-raising organizations.

I remember once talking with a young girl in my congregation who was busily engaged in selling some trinkets to raise money for some school organization. I asked her, “What is the purpose of your organization?” She looked blankly at me for a moment. “Purpose?” Then, looking at the bag of goods she had grasped in her hand, she brightened up and said, “We make money – and then we spend it!”

The church could be in danger of becoming just such an organization should the perennial temptations to find better fund-raising techniques ever overtake our calling to be faithful hearers and doers of God’s Word. Fund-raising has its place within our community. Money is needed to do good works all over our world, and it must be raised or good things will not be done. But our purpose is not to raise money and spend it. Our purpose is more foundational.

At the core of things, we are gathered together as a community of God’s people to preach Christ and minister in his name. Paul called the offering he was taking a “ministry,” for that is the only way in which he ever would have involved himself with it.

Our committee looked at the ministries which our church anticipates for the coming year. What will we be doing? Why? What do we need to make these ministries in Jesus’ name a reality? All our budget permutations flow from that single perspective, so forcefully described in the words of the apostle.

Paul said that he hoped the gift the Corinthians had promised would come “not as an exaction but as a willing gift.” On a casual reading we might think that the word “exaction” sounds enough like the dentist’s term “extraction” to go ahead and use it to make the point even clearer. But Paul wanted no part of an offering that was to be coerced out of people, an offering that required a good shot of Novocain so that the folks wouldn’t holler quite as much as it was yanked out of their clenched hands. His interest was in nothing less than a willing, exuberant, thankful gift, one given in response to the gifts of God and to the need of others.

Think of the way Paul went about motivating the Corinthians to respond to God’s gift of grace with their own ministering gifts2:

1. His appeal was tactful. While saying “there is really no need for me to write,” he wrote anyway, just as we preachers often say, “You’ll remember the story about…” and then tell it again anyway since it is good to be reminded even of the things that are familiar. Response to God’s grace is a constant need of God’s people, and we need reminding.


2. His appeal was positive. “I know that you are willing to help…I boast about you to the people of Macedonia.” Paul was confident in the strength that God could give to the Corinthians, just as I am confident of the strength that God is ready to give us. Our church is engaged in countless acts of wonderful ministry, and I was boasting to some of my colleagues in ministry about this church at a conference just this past week. It is a foundation upon which we can build, and God is ready to give the energy supplied in our response.


3. His appeal was honest. What Paul said about the Macedonians and the Corinthians was true. Each – knowing of the strengths of the other – could be stimulated to renewed strength of purpose. The Macedonians were prepared to give in spite of their poverty. The Corinthians expressed their willingness to take part in the offering before anyone else. These were strengths worth building on. This approach was so typical of Paul.3 He would not lift up weakness in order to criticize one church to another; he lifted up strengths in order to praise one church to another. It’s not a bad idea to try as we look around our own church for the many strengths that can serve as an inspiration to others as well as to ourselves.


4. His appeal was direct. And of course, being direct is where pastors are sometimes said to go from preaching to meddling. In so many churches, stewardship programming follows this pattern4: [1] the committee is organized and meets regularly; [2] assignments are made and carried out; [3] budgets are developed; [4] the ministry of the church is interpreted; [5] sermons on stewardship are preached; [6] challenges are extended. This sounds like a complete stewardship program. But one crucial element is missing. In some fashion, members of the congregation must be confronted with an inescapable decision to make regarding our personal commitment. “To inform and nurture the people of God without confronting them with the cost of discipleship is to show ourselves as poor stewards.”5 This is no less the case in stewardship than it is in our decision to follow Jesus. At some point, someone has said to us, “Who is your Lord and Savior?” And we have responded, “Jesus Christ.” Now Paul follows that call for decision with this one. Each year, when we are asked to make pledges of support to the church, we have an opportunity to declare again that we will be faithful, giving members of Christ’s church. I hope all of us are preparing ourselves to respond.


5. His appeal called for heartfelt, not guilt-driven gifts. God accepts our gifts not as an exaction – or an extraction! – on the basis of what we have to give, not on what we don’t have. That is how it must be with our pledge commitment. The only really driving force comes from within, inasmuch as the love of Christ claims and controls us.

This day, and in the days to come, we are a called people, called to respond to the gracious love of Christ with hearts, minds, hands, and, yes, even pocketbooks that are open to the leading of his Lordship. Let us prepare in these days to give mighty thanks and praise to God for his inexpressible gifts to us.

_________________________________________________________________

1 See The Letters to the Corinthians, William Barclay, Westminster Press, p. 259.

2 See This Service of Love, by M. Landfried, Pub: Synod of the Trinity, 3040 Market Street, Camp Hill, PA 17011, ©1978, pp. 66-69.

3 Barclay, Ibid., p. 259.

4 Mark Landfried, Ibid., p. 68.

5 Think Piece No. 2, “A Transcendent Task", by Clarence Cave, United Presbyterian Support Agency, © 1975, p. 67.