Grace In The Midst Of Limited Resources
Sermon
Sermons On The Second Readings
For Sundays In Advent, Christmas, And Epiphany
Year after year Stumpy and Martha attended the fair in their home state, and every summer it was the same story: Stumpy was tantalized by the old-fashioned bi-plane in which anybody could take a ride for ten dollars, and Martha was disgusted by such an obvious waste of money. "Ten dollars is ten dollars," she would always say. And Stumpy would go home without his airplane ride.
One year Stumpy said, "Martha, there's that bi-plane again. I am 81 years old and this year I want to go for a ride." Martha bristled, "There you go again. Don't you realize that ten dollars is ten dollars?" At this point the man who owned the bi-plane, and who had heard this conversation as far back as he could remember, intervened. "Listen, you two, I'll make you a deal. I'll give you both a ride for free if you promise not to say anything during the flight. If you speak even one word, I'll charge you the ten dollars." Stumpy and Martha thought that sounded fair, and off they went.
The pilot put on quite a show. He took his plane through banks and spins and loop-the-loops, and then did the whole thing over again. Amazingly, he never heard a single word. When the plane landed he looked over at Stumpy and said, "I'll have to admit I'm impressed. You never spoke once." "Well," said Stumpy, "I was going to say something when Martha fell out of the plane, but ten dollars is ten dollars."
If there's one thing that Americans understand, it's the value of money. We know that ten dollars is ten dollars. If there's one thing that Americans fundamentally misunderstand, it's the value of God. In the marketplace theology of our times we may trust God to be there, and we may trust that God hears our prayers, and we may even trust God with getting us safely to heaven after we die. But the toughest challenge for the person on the street is believing that God provides -- that God will actually come through by supplying us with what we need, when we need it.
Paul challenges the fledgling church in Corinth, "Now as you excel in everything -- in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in utmost eagerness, and in our love for you -- so we want you to excel also in this generous undertaking" (v. 7). Excellence in the grace of giving, however, runs headlong into the reality of "limited resources" -- the virtually universal self-assessment that since our bank accounts are barely able to support our pursuit of the Good Life, there's not much left to share with others.
Our culture's vision of the Good Life is amazingly easy to understand. It requires us to get more. Getting more was clearly the conventional strategy for happiness in Jesus' time, and little has changed after twenty centuries. Jesus warns in Luke 12:15, "Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions." In other words, more is not more.
The New Testament Greek provides two distinctly different words that are translated into English as "life." One is bios, which refers to physical life. We can immediately see the linguistic connection between bios and biology, which is scientific inquiry into plant and animal life in all its diversity. The other Greek word is zoe, which refers to a particular quality of life. Zoe is the word one would use when talking about "real life," or authentic human existence. What's frustrating about being alive? It's possible to have bios but not zoe. The reason that people buy matching cherry red imported sports cars, risk their lives climbing mountains, collect Ming vases, and drink Mountain Dew while hang-gliding is that at some level they are hoping that these possessions and experiences will yield a rich harvest of zoe. Jesus says, "Don't you believe it."
A lot of people would like to play basketball like Michael Jordan. Even more people secretly dream of enjoying a Michael Jordan-sized income. During one of his recent years in the NBA his combined salary and commercial deals were estimated to be at least 58 million dollars. How much money is that? Michael Jordan earned $106 every minute of every hour of every day that year. Whenever he went to an average-length movie he spent $7 for a ticket, $5 for the popcorn and drink combo, and then just by watching the movie earned over $13,700. Every night during his sleep he raked in $50,480.
All of that was meaningless, however, when Jordan's father was murdered. Money had no power whatsoever to repair his heart, to rekindle his vision at that moment, or to bring back the man who had been the most important figure in his life. Money makes promises that only God can keep.
What then is God's vision of the Good Life? It is radically different. God's vision requires us to imitate the sacrificial generosity of Jesus. Paul observes in verse 9, "For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich." The Bible's premise is that the good things God has chosen to pour into our lives are not all about us. They are all about God. Jesus is the ultimate model of making others rich. Good things come to us because they are on their way somewhere else. The Good Life is discovering the rich fulfillment of cooperating with God in that amazing venture.
But wait just a moment. For what exactly am I accountable? Am I accountable for how wealthy I become? Paul said that Jesus was "rich." At what point do I conclude the same about myself? How much money do you have to have to be wealthy? In the late 1990s a New York Yankees ballplayer signed an $89 million contract. He had held out for a long while before signing, hoping that management would match the $91 million offer of another team. The Yankees refused to budge. In an interview afterward, the player's wife said, "When I saw him walk in the house, I immediately knew that he had not succeeded in persuading them to move up from $89 to $91 million. He felt so rejected. It was one of the saddest days of our lives." Most of us would say that that couple's disappointment is seriously disconnected from reality.
What does the Word say? The writers of scripture refuse to define what it means to be rich. Being wealthy is entirely relative -- relative to one's context. For that matter, nowhere does the Bible condemn those who happen to possess a great deal of money. Accountability is related to our stewardship, not to our fiscal bottom lines.
Scripture, in fact, openly states two compelling reasons to work hard and thus to accumulate wealth. The first is providing for personal and family needs. In the second chapter of 2 Thessalonians, Paul declares that it is a worthy goal not to be a burden on other people. Christians must prefer work to welfare, earning enough to take care of the immediate needs of our own households.
But let's be honest. A good many Americans are enjoying surpluses that far surpass our daily needs. We already have what we need to be fed, to be clothed, and to stay dry. Now ... what shall we do with the rest? Sociologists are starting to talk about a new group on the American scene. They're called Children of Rich Fathers. For the first time in our history -- for the first time in the history of any country -- a large number of men and women, at a comparatively young age, are inheriting great wealth. By and large, there is no public consensus and there has been little family training in how to utilize this wealth. Just after World War II, eight percent of American households were judged to have significant discretionary income. Today that number has risen to 51 percent. After personal and family needs have been met, what does God want us to do with the good things that have come our way?
Our answer begins with the second biblical reason for accumulating wealth, the very one that Paul details in the eighth chapter of 2 Corinthians: Being free to share with others who are in need. Jesus was "rich." He chose to become "poor." For what purpose? Paul says in verses 13 and 14, "... it is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need, in order that there may be a fair balance." God's people are blessed so that they might be a blessing. God is uniquely able to coordinate both needs and provisions.
A pastor in Indiana received a call from a man outside his church whose one-and-only car had gone into the shop. The repair was completed but the bill was much greater than he could pay. Would the church be willing to help find the funds -- a grant or a loan -- that would put him back into his car? It was crucial to have an answer by Friday. By then it was clear that the pastor could round up half the funds. As he headed out of the office for the day, a couple met him at the door. "Could we talk to you for a few minutes?" they asked. The pastor was already late for an appointment, so he said, "To tell you the truth, I can't really talk to you right now." "That's okay," they said. "We'll just walk with you outside. We only need a minute."
Years ago this couple had received a gift from the church to help them through a tough time in their lives. "God's been doing wonderful things for us," they said, "so now we can offer back what you offered to us." They handed the pastor a check. There was the second half of the money for the car bill. God provides, accomplishing wonderful things precisely when they need to be done.
Paul takes pains to point out that stewardship is the ultimate issue when it comes to being accountable for our gifts, not the numbers on the checks we write. "For if the eagerness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has -- not according to what one does not have" (v. 12). The specifics of one person's accountability to God will be different from the specifics of another. But God will ask all of us the same question: What did you do with the good things that I put into your hands? Did you become rich for your own sake, or rich for my sake? This matter of being accountable to God means understanding at least three things.
First, we need to understand whose property we are managing. The farmer in Jesus' parable in Luke 12 is extremely confused on this point. He has been reaping bumper crops. In verse 17 he says, "What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?" (emphasis added). That's why God roars in verse 20, "You fool!" In the Bible, even a genius can be a fool. Without so much as a notice in the mail, God is calling in his loans. God says, "This very night your life will be demanded of you." The verb translated "demanded" is part of the language of the first century banking system. The farmer's life is officially required by God, because it has always been on loan -- something that the farmer has obviously failed to grasp.
Second, being accountable to God means understanding why God has entrusted good things to us. We are blessed to be a blessing. God meets our needs, and then some, so that we might meet the needs of others. Why did God specifically choose to bless some of us one way, and others of us in another way? Only God knows -- and brooding on the matter can fill our hearts with pain and misunderstanding. Why was she born so pretty? Why couldn't I hit a curve ball and make the high school team? Why was I so inept in chemistry, when everybody else could figure it out? That guy can sell anything. Why can't I do that? How can she be so energetic and organized, when I don't even have the strength to get out of bed? Why were they born into money, while I have to work so hard?
God tells us that in this world we have the privilege of knowing the details of exactly one person's story -- our own. I am accountable for the gifts, the resources, and the opportunities that God has uniquely given to me -- and not for what God hasn't given to me. As Paul reminds us, "The gift is acceptable according to what one has -- not according to what one does not have."
Finally, being accountable to God means understanding what we need to do to "close the gap" in our behavior. Closing the gap between my version of the Good Life and God's version of the Good Life might mean any number of things. It might involve rethinking my checkbook. Or readjusting my calendar. Or recalibrating what I value the most. How does my life need to change so that I can become rich toward God?
Some of us will discover that we can live on just fifty percent of what we make, and are in the remarkable position of providing help and support to a wide range of causes around the world. We might fund the education of someone who would otherwise never be able to attend classes. We might help develop Christian leadership in a Third World country. The possibilities are endless. It doesn't take a truckload of dollars to make a difference. ABC Nightly News recently featured a Manhattan cab driver who every week has saved just five or ten dollars to send back to the village where he grew up in India. Because of his generosity, and the reality of compound interest, he has single-handedly opened a school for the little girls of his town. His faithfulness and persistence made the difference.
Americans traveling overseas frequently delight in the phenomenon of foreign currency. Paper money from other nations is frequently colorful and comes in variety of interesting sizes. Coins are of different colors and textures and don't "jingle" in one's pocket in quite the same way. Foreign currency may even be said to be fun -- but is completely worthless in an American store. You can visit another country and stuff your wallet with its legal tender, but as soon as your jet lands in New York City those colorful pieces of paper or interesting coins can't even buy a pack of gum.
God assures us that our destination is another country. Only a fool would spend his life trying to hold on to the currency of this world, which in the next world will be powerless to buy anything. The currency of heaven is the degree to which we are imitators of the Son of God. Jesus, though he was rich, for our sakes became poor. Are we sharing and investing the good things that God has poured into our lives in such a way that we are looking more and more like him?
In recent years Paul Azinger has been at or near the top of professional golf. As Bob Russell points out in his book Money: A User's Guide, he's known for three things: being an outspoken follower of Christ, recovering from a bout of cancer, and being so frustrated with his performance at the British Open in 1996 that he broke his putter over his knee in front of an international audience, leaving him nine holes to play without a putter.
After that event Azinger was embarrassed beyond words. One of the British tabloids shrieked that this man was the model of the Christian life, yet he had lost his temper. Azinger began to grasp the degree to which pride had fed his frustration.
"When I started playing competitive golf," he said, "my hometown paper asked, 'Is Azinger good enough to make it on the tour?' When I made the tour they asked, 'Is Azinger good enough to win?' After I won my first tournament they asked, 'Can he sustain it?' Then when I was the PGA Golfer of the Year, my thrill lasted two days -- until I picked up a magazine and read an article that said, 'Is Paul Azinger the best player never to have won a major?' It's never enough."
In the eyes of the world, enough is never enough. People who have received the greatest gifts can become trapped in the deadly undertow of believing it's necessary to earn more, to have more, to accomplish more. Paul Azinger said, "No more." No more falling for a false version of the Good Life. Even though he dreaded the thought of facing the public after his British Open meltdown, Azinger had made a promise to speak at a men's prayer breakfast in Louisville, Kentucky. He came humbly. He led from weakness. He revealed the degree to which he keeps learning that his life isn't all about himself. It's all about God -- and it's never too late to go a different way. Several of the 2,000 men in attendance that morning decided to become Christians.
No matter how we've lived, it's not too late to go a different way. If you are reading these words, God hasn't yet called back the living loan of your life. We can still choose to invest wisely the good things that God has given to us.
One year Stumpy said, "Martha, there's that bi-plane again. I am 81 years old and this year I want to go for a ride." Martha bristled, "There you go again. Don't you realize that ten dollars is ten dollars?" At this point the man who owned the bi-plane, and who had heard this conversation as far back as he could remember, intervened. "Listen, you two, I'll make you a deal. I'll give you both a ride for free if you promise not to say anything during the flight. If you speak even one word, I'll charge you the ten dollars." Stumpy and Martha thought that sounded fair, and off they went.
The pilot put on quite a show. He took his plane through banks and spins and loop-the-loops, and then did the whole thing over again. Amazingly, he never heard a single word. When the plane landed he looked over at Stumpy and said, "I'll have to admit I'm impressed. You never spoke once." "Well," said Stumpy, "I was going to say something when Martha fell out of the plane, but ten dollars is ten dollars."
If there's one thing that Americans understand, it's the value of money. We know that ten dollars is ten dollars. If there's one thing that Americans fundamentally misunderstand, it's the value of God. In the marketplace theology of our times we may trust God to be there, and we may trust that God hears our prayers, and we may even trust God with getting us safely to heaven after we die. But the toughest challenge for the person on the street is believing that God provides -- that God will actually come through by supplying us with what we need, when we need it.
Paul challenges the fledgling church in Corinth, "Now as you excel in everything -- in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in utmost eagerness, and in our love for you -- so we want you to excel also in this generous undertaking" (v. 7). Excellence in the grace of giving, however, runs headlong into the reality of "limited resources" -- the virtually universal self-assessment that since our bank accounts are barely able to support our pursuit of the Good Life, there's not much left to share with others.
Our culture's vision of the Good Life is amazingly easy to understand. It requires us to get more. Getting more was clearly the conventional strategy for happiness in Jesus' time, and little has changed after twenty centuries. Jesus warns in Luke 12:15, "Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions." In other words, more is not more.
The New Testament Greek provides two distinctly different words that are translated into English as "life." One is bios, which refers to physical life. We can immediately see the linguistic connection between bios and biology, which is scientific inquiry into plant and animal life in all its diversity. The other Greek word is zoe, which refers to a particular quality of life. Zoe is the word one would use when talking about "real life," or authentic human existence. What's frustrating about being alive? It's possible to have bios but not zoe. The reason that people buy matching cherry red imported sports cars, risk their lives climbing mountains, collect Ming vases, and drink Mountain Dew while hang-gliding is that at some level they are hoping that these possessions and experiences will yield a rich harvest of zoe. Jesus says, "Don't you believe it."
A lot of people would like to play basketball like Michael Jordan. Even more people secretly dream of enjoying a Michael Jordan-sized income. During one of his recent years in the NBA his combined salary and commercial deals were estimated to be at least 58 million dollars. How much money is that? Michael Jordan earned $106 every minute of every hour of every day that year. Whenever he went to an average-length movie he spent $7 for a ticket, $5 for the popcorn and drink combo, and then just by watching the movie earned over $13,700. Every night during his sleep he raked in $50,480.
All of that was meaningless, however, when Jordan's father was murdered. Money had no power whatsoever to repair his heart, to rekindle his vision at that moment, or to bring back the man who had been the most important figure in his life. Money makes promises that only God can keep.
What then is God's vision of the Good Life? It is radically different. God's vision requires us to imitate the sacrificial generosity of Jesus. Paul observes in verse 9, "For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich." The Bible's premise is that the good things God has chosen to pour into our lives are not all about us. They are all about God. Jesus is the ultimate model of making others rich. Good things come to us because they are on their way somewhere else. The Good Life is discovering the rich fulfillment of cooperating with God in that amazing venture.
But wait just a moment. For what exactly am I accountable? Am I accountable for how wealthy I become? Paul said that Jesus was "rich." At what point do I conclude the same about myself? How much money do you have to have to be wealthy? In the late 1990s a New York Yankees ballplayer signed an $89 million contract. He had held out for a long while before signing, hoping that management would match the $91 million offer of another team. The Yankees refused to budge. In an interview afterward, the player's wife said, "When I saw him walk in the house, I immediately knew that he had not succeeded in persuading them to move up from $89 to $91 million. He felt so rejected. It was one of the saddest days of our lives." Most of us would say that that couple's disappointment is seriously disconnected from reality.
What does the Word say? The writers of scripture refuse to define what it means to be rich. Being wealthy is entirely relative -- relative to one's context. For that matter, nowhere does the Bible condemn those who happen to possess a great deal of money. Accountability is related to our stewardship, not to our fiscal bottom lines.
Scripture, in fact, openly states two compelling reasons to work hard and thus to accumulate wealth. The first is providing for personal and family needs. In the second chapter of 2 Thessalonians, Paul declares that it is a worthy goal not to be a burden on other people. Christians must prefer work to welfare, earning enough to take care of the immediate needs of our own households.
But let's be honest. A good many Americans are enjoying surpluses that far surpass our daily needs. We already have what we need to be fed, to be clothed, and to stay dry. Now ... what shall we do with the rest? Sociologists are starting to talk about a new group on the American scene. They're called Children of Rich Fathers. For the first time in our history -- for the first time in the history of any country -- a large number of men and women, at a comparatively young age, are inheriting great wealth. By and large, there is no public consensus and there has been little family training in how to utilize this wealth. Just after World War II, eight percent of American households were judged to have significant discretionary income. Today that number has risen to 51 percent. After personal and family needs have been met, what does God want us to do with the good things that have come our way?
Our answer begins with the second biblical reason for accumulating wealth, the very one that Paul details in the eighth chapter of 2 Corinthians: Being free to share with others who are in need. Jesus was "rich." He chose to become "poor." For what purpose? Paul says in verses 13 and 14, "... it is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need, in order that there may be a fair balance." God's people are blessed so that they might be a blessing. God is uniquely able to coordinate both needs and provisions.
A pastor in Indiana received a call from a man outside his church whose one-and-only car had gone into the shop. The repair was completed but the bill was much greater than he could pay. Would the church be willing to help find the funds -- a grant or a loan -- that would put him back into his car? It was crucial to have an answer by Friday. By then it was clear that the pastor could round up half the funds. As he headed out of the office for the day, a couple met him at the door. "Could we talk to you for a few minutes?" they asked. The pastor was already late for an appointment, so he said, "To tell you the truth, I can't really talk to you right now." "That's okay," they said. "We'll just walk with you outside. We only need a minute."
Years ago this couple had received a gift from the church to help them through a tough time in their lives. "God's been doing wonderful things for us," they said, "so now we can offer back what you offered to us." They handed the pastor a check. There was the second half of the money for the car bill. God provides, accomplishing wonderful things precisely when they need to be done.
Paul takes pains to point out that stewardship is the ultimate issue when it comes to being accountable for our gifts, not the numbers on the checks we write. "For if the eagerness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has -- not according to what one does not have" (v. 12). The specifics of one person's accountability to God will be different from the specifics of another. But God will ask all of us the same question: What did you do with the good things that I put into your hands? Did you become rich for your own sake, or rich for my sake? This matter of being accountable to God means understanding at least three things.
First, we need to understand whose property we are managing. The farmer in Jesus' parable in Luke 12 is extremely confused on this point. He has been reaping bumper crops. In verse 17 he says, "What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?" (emphasis added). That's why God roars in verse 20, "You fool!" In the Bible, even a genius can be a fool. Without so much as a notice in the mail, God is calling in his loans. God says, "This very night your life will be demanded of you." The verb translated "demanded" is part of the language of the first century banking system. The farmer's life is officially required by God, because it has always been on loan -- something that the farmer has obviously failed to grasp.
Second, being accountable to God means understanding why God has entrusted good things to us. We are blessed to be a blessing. God meets our needs, and then some, so that we might meet the needs of others. Why did God specifically choose to bless some of us one way, and others of us in another way? Only God knows -- and brooding on the matter can fill our hearts with pain and misunderstanding. Why was she born so pretty? Why couldn't I hit a curve ball and make the high school team? Why was I so inept in chemistry, when everybody else could figure it out? That guy can sell anything. Why can't I do that? How can she be so energetic and organized, when I don't even have the strength to get out of bed? Why were they born into money, while I have to work so hard?
God tells us that in this world we have the privilege of knowing the details of exactly one person's story -- our own. I am accountable for the gifts, the resources, and the opportunities that God has uniquely given to me -- and not for what God hasn't given to me. As Paul reminds us, "The gift is acceptable according to what one has -- not according to what one does not have."
Finally, being accountable to God means understanding what we need to do to "close the gap" in our behavior. Closing the gap between my version of the Good Life and God's version of the Good Life might mean any number of things. It might involve rethinking my checkbook. Or readjusting my calendar. Or recalibrating what I value the most. How does my life need to change so that I can become rich toward God?
Some of us will discover that we can live on just fifty percent of what we make, and are in the remarkable position of providing help and support to a wide range of causes around the world. We might fund the education of someone who would otherwise never be able to attend classes. We might help develop Christian leadership in a Third World country. The possibilities are endless. It doesn't take a truckload of dollars to make a difference. ABC Nightly News recently featured a Manhattan cab driver who every week has saved just five or ten dollars to send back to the village where he grew up in India. Because of his generosity, and the reality of compound interest, he has single-handedly opened a school for the little girls of his town. His faithfulness and persistence made the difference.
Americans traveling overseas frequently delight in the phenomenon of foreign currency. Paper money from other nations is frequently colorful and comes in variety of interesting sizes. Coins are of different colors and textures and don't "jingle" in one's pocket in quite the same way. Foreign currency may even be said to be fun -- but is completely worthless in an American store. You can visit another country and stuff your wallet with its legal tender, but as soon as your jet lands in New York City those colorful pieces of paper or interesting coins can't even buy a pack of gum.
God assures us that our destination is another country. Only a fool would spend his life trying to hold on to the currency of this world, which in the next world will be powerless to buy anything. The currency of heaven is the degree to which we are imitators of the Son of God. Jesus, though he was rich, for our sakes became poor. Are we sharing and investing the good things that God has poured into our lives in such a way that we are looking more and more like him?
In recent years Paul Azinger has been at or near the top of professional golf. As Bob Russell points out in his book Money: A User's Guide, he's known for three things: being an outspoken follower of Christ, recovering from a bout of cancer, and being so frustrated with his performance at the British Open in 1996 that he broke his putter over his knee in front of an international audience, leaving him nine holes to play without a putter.
After that event Azinger was embarrassed beyond words. One of the British tabloids shrieked that this man was the model of the Christian life, yet he had lost his temper. Azinger began to grasp the degree to which pride had fed his frustration.
"When I started playing competitive golf," he said, "my hometown paper asked, 'Is Azinger good enough to make it on the tour?' When I made the tour they asked, 'Is Azinger good enough to win?' After I won my first tournament they asked, 'Can he sustain it?' Then when I was the PGA Golfer of the Year, my thrill lasted two days -- until I picked up a magazine and read an article that said, 'Is Paul Azinger the best player never to have won a major?' It's never enough."
In the eyes of the world, enough is never enough. People who have received the greatest gifts can become trapped in the deadly undertow of believing it's necessary to earn more, to have more, to accomplish more. Paul Azinger said, "No more." No more falling for a false version of the Good Life. Even though he dreaded the thought of facing the public after his British Open meltdown, Azinger had made a promise to speak at a men's prayer breakfast in Louisville, Kentucky. He came humbly. He led from weakness. He revealed the degree to which he keeps learning that his life isn't all about himself. It's all about God -- and it's never too late to go a different way. Several of the 2,000 men in attendance that morning decided to become Christians.
No matter how we've lived, it's not too late to go a different way. If you are reading these words, God hasn't yet called back the living loan of your life. We can still choose to invest wisely the good things that God has given to us.
