The Modest Proposal
Stories
Contents
“The Modest Proposal” by Keith Hewitt
“Cease and Desist?” by C. David McKirachan
The Modest Proposal
by Keith Hewitt
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Darkness paused on the threshold of night, waiting for the sun to drop below the hills of Galilee, on the far side of the lake. Jesus crouched next to the fire, poking at it aimlessly with a stick while the disciples prepared places to sleep. It would be another night under the stars, but the weather was still good, and he didn’t mind looking up at the sky while he waited for sleep to come.
But it made him long for home.
He heard the whispered conversation before he saw anything; two earnest but hushed voices, punctuated by one slightly louder and more irritated one. He didn’t look up from the fire until the voices subsided, and he could hear footsteps approaching from the left. Wondering who had won and who had lost the discussion, he raised his head and looked toward the footsteps, smiled at the disciples. “James. Judas. What can I do for you?” he asked pleasantly.
The two men glanced at one another, then the taller, thinner one cleared his throat softly and said, “Well, it’s this way: we had an idea…Judas had an idea,” James said hastily, correcting himself when his companion nudged him gently with his elbow.
“We talked to Peter, but he didn’t think it was a good one — but we wanted to present it to you anyway.”
Jesus nodded slightly; Peter tended to act as his gatekeeper and was pretty conservative in most things. “Go on.”
James started to talk, then stopped and swallowed. “Actually, I’m going to let Judas tell you.”
“Well, somebody tell me, or I’m going to bed,” Jesus answered, dulling the edge slightly with another smile.
“Listen, Jesus — a little while ago you sent us out into the countryside to spread the word, right?”
Jesus nodded. “I remember.”
“And it was great…really great. But the trouble is, it used up the rest of our treasury. I don’t know if you realize it, but we’re broke. If we were any more broke, we would owe money, but we don’t. I’ve done the best I can, but with next to nothing coming in, and a lot of money going out for programming, we’re really hurting.”
Jesus dusted the ashes off his hands, stood up and faced his disciples. “That’s a problem,” he agreed. “What’s the solution?”
Judas smiled as though he knew a great secret. “Your robe, teacher.” He paused a moment, reached out, and touched his rabbi’s robe, held the hem of it between his fingers. “Your robe,” he repeated. “You know what it’s like, right? All people must do is touch it to be cured…cured of whatever illness they’re suffering from. Bleeding, leprosy, blindness, whatever — you name it, this robe cures it. It’s like you’re wearing a freakin’ gold mine, teacher. Just wearing it and walking around.”
Jesus’ eyebrows drew together as he tried to take in what his disciple was saying. “Now let me get this straight — ,” he began.
“I’m proposing that we use the tools we have to make money so this ministry can survive. I know you’re being run ragged these days, but if you were to let us take your robe — just your robe — on tour, we could make some serious money. For programming. That leaves you to do your preaching, and some of us — maybe me and James, here — can take your robe on tour of the Dekapolis, healing as we go. Give us a couple of weeks, and we’ll be drowning in shekels. We would never have to sleep out in the open again — and we could have some real meat once in a while.”
He stopped, then, and Jesus didn’t look at him initially, just stared down at the ground. When he did look up, he looked at James. “Are you on board with this?”
James looked back at him for a moment, when shrugged slightly and found something to look at past Jesus’ shoulder. “It’s a problem, Jesus — and a solution.”
His gaze shifted to Judas, then. “And you don’t see a problem with this, Judas?”
Judas shook his head slowly, his expression uncertain. “It’s simple economics,” he answered. “It’s market demand. People want to touch your robe, we let them touch your robe. For a price.”
Jesus sighed, then. “What people want, Judas, is to be healed. Healed of disease. Healed of sin. Healed of everything that is holding them back or separating them from God. I thought you understood — you of all people, James — that what’s healing those people is not my robe. It’s not some kind of magic. It’s me. It’s the love of God, the manifested grace of God in their presence.”
“But — ” Judas began.
Jesus took his robe off, quickly shrugging it off from both shoulders, and reached out, extending it to his disciple. “Take it.” He paused, gave it a shake. “Take it, Judas.” Judas reached out for it slowly, took it out of Jesus’ hands. “Is the hardness in your heart healed, my friend?”
Judas looked puzzled, then frowned.
Jesus just shook his head and waved a hand. “Take it, Judas. Take it to every village from here to Jerusalem and see what happens. The power is not in the robe; it’s in God, and through God it rests in me. If you are going to make money to replenish our treasury, you’re going to have to sell it for what it is — a used robe.” He paused, then said, “That’s not a bad idea. Do take it into town and see what you can get for it. Just don’t try to sell it to anyone as something it’s not.”
He turned away from Judas, then — but must have felt the man’s eyes burning into his back, because he turned around and faced him again. “You’re a capable man, my friend,” Jesus said quietly, “but I think you have to learn to hear and see with your heart, not just your head, or you will never understand.”
“I was just trying to help,” Judas murmured, while James looked away.
“I know you were,” Jesus answered, adding silently, and that’s the pity of it. He reached out and touched a hand to Judas’ shoulder, pulled back for a moment as though he’d been shocked, then squeezed it. “I know what you’re capable of,” Jesus assured him. “I know you’ll find a way to replenish that purse soon enough — one way or another.”
* * *
Cease and Desist?
by C. David McKirachan
2 Samuel 7:1-14, Psalm 89:20-37
In every church where I was a pastor, I ran capital funds. Parking lots, roofs, foundations, heating and air conditioning systems, sanctuaries, organs, program and education buildings all got built, bought, installed, and rehabilitated. Each and all these jobs were above and beyond the typical maintenance of buildings and storm damage repair. It seemed I had so much experience at this stuff, churches began to use me as a consultant in running their own capital programs, including planning, publicizing, interpretation, and fund raising. Each and all these projects seemed critical at the time. Each and all of them seemed necessary for the ongoing development of the church. All of them took an incredible amount of work, time, focus, and energy. All of them were a pain in the neck.
I considered it part of the job. As churches grow, they need more space. As communities use their facilities, they get worn out and need to be replaced. As new vision and enthusiasm opens new doors, the revealed rooms need to be constructed and equipped. It made sense.
The level of enthusiasm developed by the church during these drives was far and above that of the normal day to day and week to week functioning of worship, teaching, pastoring, counselling, and spiritual development. The level of giving always went up, both in money and in time and energy.
So why the heck would God tell David to cease and desist when he came up with plans to build a grand cedar temple? Wouldn’t it have been good for the life of the community? Wouldn’t it have made a clear statement of the power of the faith of the people who worshipped the one true god? It seemed more important to God that David, and the nation focus on the promise given to them, than to pile up rock and boards to demonstrate God’s power.
One of the things I learned, doing all the capital drives, was that the bricks and mortar the church wasattempting to build toward was the least important part of the capital project. If the physical structures became the primary focus of the church with all this extra planning, publicity, interpretation, and fund raising, we were forgetting why we were here and who we were. Our identity could not be centered on a building, or our plans to shine up our structures. Our identity must be centered on the family of God and God’s presence in the family’s midst. This required an ongoing process of thanksgiving, prayer, and focus on the least of these.
If we are unwilling to be thankful, there will never be enough resources to accomplish anything. If we are willing to be thankful, we are aware of our blessings and open to the truth that the Lord will provide. So, if we are to reach toward a capital drive, we need to preach, teach, and be open to what God has already done for us. The Lord tells us in the 89th psalm: “My steadfast love I will keep for them [him] forever.”
Teaching the congregation about its spiritual gifts puts it in touch with the power that God has already given us. Prayer services, healing services, inviting people to testify to God’s movement in their lives doesn’t seem to have much to do with raising money or building a new parking lot. But if we forget that the spiritual gifts are the foundation of everything that we accomplish, we will not be accomplishing much. David’s dance before the ark of the covenant may not have been proper in Michal’s eyes, but it expressed spiritual joy, fruit of the spirit. Such spiritual expression was one of the reasons that David was such an effective leader of God’s people. Joy goes a lot further than spread sheets in the life of God’s family.
And when the church reaches toward growth, toward establishing a larger capital footprint, it cannot forget that Jesus went to the cross without any capital footprint. If we are to be disciples of the crucified Christ, we must do our Savior’s labor with the least of these during our planning, fund raising, and construction. Any capital fund must have a tithe to a mission. Construction must be accompanied by a building project for Habitat for Humanity, or such a group. And planning must include how our new building will be accomplishing God’s mission in this world of poverty and need.
The most important part of our church is how we are following our Lord, how we are demonstrating God’s presence in our midst. If we build, let it be with God’s will in mind. And as we labor, let it be God’s labor we are accomplishing.
God wanted to stay in a tent. He told David to let his kids build a temple. Maybe we ought to remember that when we make plans to put up our own structures.
*****************************************
StoryShare, July 18, 2021 issue.
Copyright 2021 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
“The Modest Proposal” by Keith Hewitt
“Cease and Desist?” by C. David McKirachan
The Modest Proposal
by Keith Hewitt
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Darkness paused on the threshold of night, waiting for the sun to drop below the hills of Galilee, on the far side of the lake. Jesus crouched next to the fire, poking at it aimlessly with a stick while the disciples prepared places to sleep. It would be another night under the stars, but the weather was still good, and he didn’t mind looking up at the sky while he waited for sleep to come.
But it made him long for home.
He heard the whispered conversation before he saw anything; two earnest but hushed voices, punctuated by one slightly louder and more irritated one. He didn’t look up from the fire until the voices subsided, and he could hear footsteps approaching from the left. Wondering who had won and who had lost the discussion, he raised his head and looked toward the footsteps, smiled at the disciples. “James. Judas. What can I do for you?” he asked pleasantly.
The two men glanced at one another, then the taller, thinner one cleared his throat softly and said, “Well, it’s this way: we had an idea…Judas had an idea,” James said hastily, correcting himself when his companion nudged him gently with his elbow.
“We talked to Peter, but he didn’t think it was a good one — but we wanted to present it to you anyway.”
Jesus nodded slightly; Peter tended to act as his gatekeeper and was pretty conservative in most things. “Go on.”
James started to talk, then stopped and swallowed. “Actually, I’m going to let Judas tell you.”
“Well, somebody tell me, or I’m going to bed,” Jesus answered, dulling the edge slightly with another smile.
“Listen, Jesus — a little while ago you sent us out into the countryside to spread the word, right?”
Jesus nodded. “I remember.”
“And it was great…really great. But the trouble is, it used up the rest of our treasury. I don’t know if you realize it, but we’re broke. If we were any more broke, we would owe money, but we don’t. I’ve done the best I can, but with next to nothing coming in, and a lot of money going out for programming, we’re really hurting.”
Jesus dusted the ashes off his hands, stood up and faced his disciples. “That’s a problem,” he agreed. “What’s the solution?”
Judas smiled as though he knew a great secret. “Your robe, teacher.” He paused a moment, reached out, and touched his rabbi’s robe, held the hem of it between his fingers. “Your robe,” he repeated. “You know what it’s like, right? All people must do is touch it to be cured…cured of whatever illness they’re suffering from. Bleeding, leprosy, blindness, whatever — you name it, this robe cures it. It’s like you’re wearing a freakin’ gold mine, teacher. Just wearing it and walking around.”
Jesus’ eyebrows drew together as he tried to take in what his disciple was saying. “Now let me get this straight — ,” he began.
“I’m proposing that we use the tools we have to make money so this ministry can survive. I know you’re being run ragged these days, but if you were to let us take your robe — just your robe — on tour, we could make some serious money. For programming. That leaves you to do your preaching, and some of us — maybe me and James, here — can take your robe on tour of the Dekapolis, healing as we go. Give us a couple of weeks, and we’ll be drowning in shekels. We would never have to sleep out in the open again — and we could have some real meat once in a while.”
He stopped, then, and Jesus didn’t look at him initially, just stared down at the ground. When he did look up, he looked at James. “Are you on board with this?”
James looked back at him for a moment, when shrugged slightly and found something to look at past Jesus’ shoulder. “It’s a problem, Jesus — and a solution.”
His gaze shifted to Judas, then. “And you don’t see a problem with this, Judas?”
Judas shook his head slowly, his expression uncertain. “It’s simple economics,” he answered. “It’s market demand. People want to touch your robe, we let them touch your robe. For a price.”
Jesus sighed, then. “What people want, Judas, is to be healed. Healed of disease. Healed of sin. Healed of everything that is holding them back or separating them from God. I thought you understood — you of all people, James — that what’s healing those people is not my robe. It’s not some kind of magic. It’s me. It’s the love of God, the manifested grace of God in their presence.”
“But — ” Judas began.
Jesus took his robe off, quickly shrugging it off from both shoulders, and reached out, extending it to his disciple. “Take it.” He paused, gave it a shake. “Take it, Judas.” Judas reached out for it slowly, took it out of Jesus’ hands. “Is the hardness in your heart healed, my friend?”
Judas looked puzzled, then frowned.
Jesus just shook his head and waved a hand. “Take it, Judas. Take it to every village from here to Jerusalem and see what happens. The power is not in the robe; it’s in God, and through God it rests in me. If you are going to make money to replenish our treasury, you’re going to have to sell it for what it is — a used robe.” He paused, then said, “That’s not a bad idea. Do take it into town and see what you can get for it. Just don’t try to sell it to anyone as something it’s not.”
He turned away from Judas, then — but must have felt the man’s eyes burning into his back, because he turned around and faced him again. “You’re a capable man, my friend,” Jesus said quietly, “but I think you have to learn to hear and see with your heart, not just your head, or you will never understand.”
“I was just trying to help,” Judas murmured, while James looked away.
“I know you were,” Jesus answered, adding silently, and that’s the pity of it. He reached out and touched a hand to Judas’ shoulder, pulled back for a moment as though he’d been shocked, then squeezed it. “I know what you’re capable of,” Jesus assured him. “I know you’ll find a way to replenish that purse soon enough — one way or another.”
* * *
Cease and Desist?
by C. David McKirachan
2 Samuel 7:1-14, Psalm 89:20-37
In every church where I was a pastor, I ran capital funds. Parking lots, roofs, foundations, heating and air conditioning systems, sanctuaries, organs, program and education buildings all got built, bought, installed, and rehabilitated. Each and all these jobs were above and beyond the typical maintenance of buildings and storm damage repair. It seemed I had so much experience at this stuff, churches began to use me as a consultant in running their own capital programs, including planning, publicizing, interpretation, and fund raising. Each and all these projects seemed critical at the time. Each and all of them seemed necessary for the ongoing development of the church. All of them took an incredible amount of work, time, focus, and energy. All of them were a pain in the neck.
I considered it part of the job. As churches grow, they need more space. As communities use their facilities, they get worn out and need to be replaced. As new vision and enthusiasm opens new doors, the revealed rooms need to be constructed and equipped. It made sense.
The level of enthusiasm developed by the church during these drives was far and above that of the normal day to day and week to week functioning of worship, teaching, pastoring, counselling, and spiritual development. The level of giving always went up, both in money and in time and energy.
So why the heck would God tell David to cease and desist when he came up with plans to build a grand cedar temple? Wouldn’t it have been good for the life of the community? Wouldn’t it have made a clear statement of the power of the faith of the people who worshipped the one true god? It seemed more important to God that David, and the nation focus on the promise given to them, than to pile up rock and boards to demonstrate God’s power.
One of the things I learned, doing all the capital drives, was that the bricks and mortar the church wasattempting to build toward was the least important part of the capital project. If the physical structures became the primary focus of the church with all this extra planning, publicity, interpretation, and fund raising, we were forgetting why we were here and who we were. Our identity could not be centered on a building, or our plans to shine up our structures. Our identity must be centered on the family of God and God’s presence in the family’s midst. This required an ongoing process of thanksgiving, prayer, and focus on the least of these.
If we are unwilling to be thankful, there will never be enough resources to accomplish anything. If we are willing to be thankful, we are aware of our blessings and open to the truth that the Lord will provide. So, if we are to reach toward a capital drive, we need to preach, teach, and be open to what God has already done for us. The Lord tells us in the 89th psalm: “My steadfast love I will keep for them [him] forever.”
Teaching the congregation about its spiritual gifts puts it in touch with the power that God has already given us. Prayer services, healing services, inviting people to testify to God’s movement in their lives doesn’t seem to have much to do with raising money or building a new parking lot. But if we forget that the spiritual gifts are the foundation of everything that we accomplish, we will not be accomplishing much. David’s dance before the ark of the covenant may not have been proper in Michal’s eyes, but it expressed spiritual joy, fruit of the spirit. Such spiritual expression was one of the reasons that David was such an effective leader of God’s people. Joy goes a lot further than spread sheets in the life of God’s family.
And when the church reaches toward growth, toward establishing a larger capital footprint, it cannot forget that Jesus went to the cross without any capital footprint. If we are to be disciples of the crucified Christ, we must do our Savior’s labor with the least of these during our planning, fund raising, and construction. Any capital fund must have a tithe to a mission. Construction must be accompanied by a building project for Habitat for Humanity, or such a group. And planning must include how our new building will be accomplishing God’s mission in this world of poverty and need.
The most important part of our church is how we are following our Lord, how we are demonstrating God’s presence in our midst. If we build, let it be with God’s will in mind. And as we labor, let it be God’s labor we are accomplishing.
God wanted to stay in a tent. He told David to let his kids build a temple. Maybe we ought to remember that when we make plans to put up our own structures.
*****************************************
StoryShare, July 18, 2021 issue.
Copyright 2021 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
