These Christians And Their Money
Stories
Object:
Contents
"These Christians and Their Money" by David O. Bales
"Shepherds and Thieves" by Larry Winebrenner
"The Cry and the Answer" by Larry Winebrenner
* * * * * * * *
These Christians and Their Money
by David O. Bales
Acts 2:42-47
James said it the second time more forcefully, "Write the check." Clarice was silent. Her face spoke for her. She was at her desk, James was in the doorway between their offices. He took a step forward and said, "Clarice, write the check: $9,000 to Benny's Breads."
"Can't do it James," Clarice responded. "This isn't like leaving a space blank in your check register to write in next week's deposit. We're out. Bills are piling up."
"I know that. But Benny's said if we don't make a payment of $9,000, they won't even deliver the stale pastry. This is our responsibility for the homeless. Mine if you want to report it that way. But this is what we're going to do. Now, write the check."
"This is like what the city's last Food Bank Director did," Clarice said. She looked at him, knowing he could finish the thought. James had been hired 16 months ago after the food bank's near bankruptcy and the former director's dismissal. Yet now the city was in the worst snowstorm since 1910. Every night people packed all the homeless shelters and a WMCA gymnasium. After five days with no letup, food and funds were nearly out for the city's homeless.
"This is totally different," James said. "We can't leave people hungry in deep snow. They need even more to eat to live through the cold."
"But --"
"Clarice, I'm not going to argue. Write the check." Then he smiled nervously, "And if anyone goes to jail, it will be me."
"Okay," Clarice shook her head, "but don't plan on any board members visiting you."
"I'm going to be on the phone," James said. "I'll start with the churches and see if I can choke money from them. Then I'm sure I'll need to try other sources, because these Christians aren't very charitable."
He saw Clarice wince and knew his statement irritated her. She was more than the secretary. He called her the office's token Christian.
"Did I tell you what happened when I spoke at that big clergy association?" James said. "All these old guys dressed in suits and a few young dudes in jeans. I gave the city's statistics for homelessness and hunger. I assumed I'd catch their interest in the poor and hungry with a quote from John Grisham's The Street Lawyer. I thought the summary was painfully clear as 'a mixture of thirds.... About a third are employed, a third are families with children, a third are mentally disabled, and a third are veterans. And about a third of those eligible for low-income housing receive it.'
"I stood there, waiting for a response. I thought, gee, these folk should be startled, impressed, angry, something! It seemed so evident to me, the pain, the need, the danger of starvation. I thought, what am I supposed to do to move these lugs? Quote the Bible? They should know the Bible. I read the Hebrew Testament in college. I know how much it talks about helping the needy. These Christians? I got polite applause and a couple small checks dribbled in the next month."
With a desperate and angry look on his face he said to Clarice, "I'm becoming less and less impressed with these Christians and their money." He turned toward his office. "I'll be on the phone the rest of the day. Try to keep people away."
True to his plan, James started phoning churches. One by one he begged, wheedled, threatened, and nearly wept. A few responded with pledges of money. He continued through lunch. Clarice, unasked, brought him sandwiches and coffee. The afternoon became colder and the snow started again, which helped his appeals. He kept a running sum on a tablet to the right of the phone, recording dollars promised and the details involved. On the other side of the phone he crossed off the churches contacted.
The conversations took longer than expected and it became obvious that by 5 PM -- the time Benny's said a check was due before they'd deliver more bread -- he'd only have time to beg churches.
At 4 PM James stuck his head out to Clarice, "I'll need to stop at 4:30 in order to deliver the check in time." Back he went in his office and phoned until he reached the last church. Even though he was now raising money at a good rate, at 4:30 the total was only $8,400. It was good, he reported to Clarice, but not enough. He slumped into his office, fell into his chair and smacked his hands on top of his head. He was ready to cry.
The phone rang. First Lutheran church was phoning back, pledging $600. James leaped up and sprang out the door. "We did it! 9,000 smackers on the nose."
"Great," Clarice said, and handed the check to him. "Get going."
He grabbed his coat. "I won't be back. I'll deliver it and then go to each food pantry to tell them Benny's will deliver tonight."
He turned and did a little victory jump, clenching his fists, "We did it," and smiled to Clarice who was jubilant also. After he left, Clarice sank back in her chair and wondered where she'd find the $600 she promised to donate to the Lutheran church.
David Bales was a Presbyterian pastor for 33 years, a graduate of San Francisco Theological Seminary. In addition to his ministry he also has taught college: World Religions, Ethics, Biblical Hebrew and Biblical Greek (lately at College of Idaho, Caldwell). He has been a freelance writer for Stephen Ministries. His sermons and articles have appeared in Interpretation, Lectionary Homiletics, Preaching the Great Texts and other publications. For a year he wrote the online column "In The Original: Insights from Greek and Hebrew for the Lectionary Passages." His books include: Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace, Toward Easter and Beyond, Scenes of Glory: Subplots of God's Long Story, and To the Cross and Beyond: Cycle A Sermons for Lent and Easter. Dave has been a writer for StoryShare for five years. He can be reached at dobales.com.
Shepherds and Thieves
by Larry Winebrenner
John 10:1-10
Therefore Jesus said again, "I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep."
-- John 10:7
It was the talk of the town. Once again some ne'er-do-wells had climbed into old Jacob's sheep pen to snitch a lamb. They planned a jolly feast at the old man's expense.
"What does that old man need all those sheep for anyway?" Joel asked his two buddies. "He can't eat them all, and one little lamb isn't going to give him much wool. We'll be doing him a favor -- not so many animals to tend."
Jacob may have been old, but he was an experienced shepherd. He always slept with one ear open. When he heard the sheep stirring up noise, he thought, Sounds like someone's in my sheep pen.
He grabbed his staff and rushed to the gate.
"Mary. Dora. Anna." He called them each by name, first the ewes with lambs. They rushed over to him, relieved to avoid those strangers. As he called out each of the 52 names, he directed them behind him and kept moving to the center of the fold.
Finally, in the bright moonlight, he recognized Joel, Jacob, and Micah trying to hide in the shadows.
"Jacob," he said, "youth carrying the same name as I, what are you doing with these rowdies, Joel and Micah?"
"He knows us," whispered Joel. "Get him or we'll be punished by the temple authorities -- or even worse, he could complain to the Romans."
They rushed at the shepherd. The man might be old, but he had defended his flock from the bear and the wolf. In less time than it takes to tell it, the trio lay at his feet.
The one telling Jesus of the event said, "By this time the neighbors had been roused. They took the thieves to our local representatives of the Temple authorities. When they woke up," he added with a grin.
Not too long afterward, Jesus had occasion to heal a man of his blindness. The poor man had been born blind. Unfortunately, the opportunity came on a Sabbath. Unlike so many, though not all, modern doctors, Jesus didn't say, "Take two aspirin and call me in the morning." He healed the man on the spot.
He worked on the Sabbath!
Pharisees in the local synagogue took exception to such Sabbath labor. They confronted him and he backed them down, but they didn't change their minds. Jesus felt he had to get through to them. These were the leading religious figures in the community. If he could just win them....
Then he remembered the sheep-stealing incident. It was still discussed by small groups of three or four men as they rested in the shade of a local building or under a marketplace awning.
Could they see that God was calling them to be shepherds, but they were acting like thieves? Since shepherds were held in low esteem, no. Since they discussed religion, not local gossip, they didn't even know the event. Oh, some locals brought some thieves caught stealing sheep, but they were sent on to Jerusalem for trial. What was this marketplace magician who claimed he was a prophet of God, talking about?
Finally, in desperation, Jesus said plainly, "Don't you see? I am the gate. You may not even know what a sheep pen is," they stirred uneasily at this accusation, though it was true of some. Jesus continued, "But you know what a gate is. Well, I am the gate."
The Pharisees stalked off, muttering to each other much to the delight of those who had witnessed the confrontation.
Jesus turned. He said to the crowd, "I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep."
And to you, "I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep."
Come on home, little lambs. Come on home.
The Cry and the Answer
by Larry Winebrenner
Psalm 23
The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
-- Psalm 23:1
Most people are familiar with the twenty-second Psalm's opening words:
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me
, so far from the words of my groaning?
But they know only the first line cried out by Jesus from the cross.
Those who read it through to the end find the psalm to be a cry of faith rather than one of despair. If Jesus were thinking of the entire psalm in his time of pain, he surely thought of the next psalm as well. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" is quickly answered by "The Lord is my shepherd."
What does a shepherd do?
A shepherd has been known to attend goats, but a shepherd's first love is for his sheep.
As a teenager I visited my aunt and uncle living near Natural Bridge in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.
One day my three cousins and I were told by Uncle Pete to gather up the dozen or so goats to take to market. We chased them uphill. We followed them downhill. We wore ourselves out. We were driving them toward an enclosure. There we could tether each one, pick it up, and load it on the truck.
The tether was essential. It was necessary, first of all, in case it struggled out of our arms -- a couple did. The tether kept them from fleeing. It was also used to keep the goats from leaping over the truck sideboards once loaded.
Just a few years later, still in my teens, I moved to Pennsylvania where I got a job as a farm hand. One day the old farmer I worked for told his two sons and me to round up the sheep for shearing.
"Oh no!" I thought. "I hope it's not like chasing goats."
It wasn't. The older son sent his brother in one direction in the field. He told me to stay with him.
"They don't know you and they'll run away," he told me.
"Then, why am I along?" I asked.
"You'll see," he said.
He found one old ewe called Maybell. She was over near a rock pile nibbling on tufts of grass. He didn't run up and grab her.
"Come on along, Maybell," he said. "Time for a haircut."
She came toward him. He walked away and she followed him. Others fell in behind her as we proceeded.
"How did you know him?" I asked.
"Her," he told me. "It's a ewe. Rams have horns."
"How did you know her?" I asked.
"I know all my sheep," he said. "She's a lead-sheep. We haven't named them all. We ran out of names. We thought calling them by numbers was too much like treating them like jailbirds."
I could tell that was an unsavory practice, not good enough for the sheep he loved.
Soon his brother joined us leading a flock of about twenty. They joined us.
"Larry, you take the left flank. If any of the sheep start to stray, just tell them to move along. They don't know you, so they'll move up with the flock."
His brother moved to the right side without instruction. If they knew him, I wondered, how did he make them stay with the flock? But he did and we soon reached the dipping pool with the whole flock. As we passed other sheep they joined the flock.
At the dipping pool there were two pens, one on each side. A fenced passage through the pool was wide enough for two or three sheep. It led from the pen we brought them into to the second pen. They marched through the passage from one pen to the other like four-legged soldiers. When all were through, we closed the gate to the passage keeping them all in the second pen.
"Sheep dip," my mentor told me. "Kills the vermin. We'll let them dry off till about sun up. Then we have a busy day of shearing."
As I lay in bed after the day's work, I couldn't help but compare this experience with that one in Virginia. No wonder Jesus talked about separating the sheep from the goats. The goats were wild and unruly. The sheep placed themselves in the hands of the shepherd. They had faith in the shepherd because they knew the shepherd cared.
And no wonder David said, "The Lord is my shepherd."
Larry Winebrenner is now retired and living in Miami Gardens, Florida. He taught for 33 years at Miami-Dade Community College, and served as pastor of churches in Georgia, Florida, Indiana, and Wisconsin. Larry is currently active at First United Methodist Church in downtown Miami, where he leads discussion in an adult fellowship group on Sunday mornings and preaches occasionally. He has authored two college textbooks, written four novels, served as an editor for three newspapers and an academic journal, and contributed articles to several magazines.
*****************************************
StoryShare, May 15, 2011, issue.
Copyright 2011 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.
"These Christians and Their Money" by David O. Bales
"Shepherds and Thieves" by Larry Winebrenner
"The Cry and the Answer" by Larry Winebrenner
* * * * * * * *
These Christians and Their Money
by David O. Bales
Acts 2:42-47
James said it the second time more forcefully, "Write the check." Clarice was silent. Her face spoke for her. She was at her desk, James was in the doorway between their offices. He took a step forward and said, "Clarice, write the check: $9,000 to Benny's Breads."
"Can't do it James," Clarice responded. "This isn't like leaving a space blank in your check register to write in next week's deposit. We're out. Bills are piling up."
"I know that. But Benny's said if we don't make a payment of $9,000, they won't even deliver the stale pastry. This is our responsibility for the homeless. Mine if you want to report it that way. But this is what we're going to do. Now, write the check."
"This is like what the city's last Food Bank Director did," Clarice said. She looked at him, knowing he could finish the thought. James had been hired 16 months ago after the food bank's near bankruptcy and the former director's dismissal. Yet now the city was in the worst snowstorm since 1910. Every night people packed all the homeless shelters and a WMCA gymnasium. After five days with no letup, food and funds were nearly out for the city's homeless.
"This is totally different," James said. "We can't leave people hungry in deep snow. They need even more to eat to live through the cold."
"But --"
"Clarice, I'm not going to argue. Write the check." Then he smiled nervously, "And if anyone goes to jail, it will be me."
"Okay," Clarice shook her head, "but don't plan on any board members visiting you."
"I'm going to be on the phone," James said. "I'll start with the churches and see if I can choke money from them. Then I'm sure I'll need to try other sources, because these Christians aren't very charitable."
He saw Clarice wince and knew his statement irritated her. She was more than the secretary. He called her the office's token Christian.
"Did I tell you what happened when I spoke at that big clergy association?" James said. "All these old guys dressed in suits and a few young dudes in jeans. I gave the city's statistics for homelessness and hunger. I assumed I'd catch their interest in the poor and hungry with a quote from John Grisham's The Street Lawyer. I thought the summary was painfully clear as 'a mixture of thirds.... About a third are employed, a third are families with children, a third are mentally disabled, and a third are veterans. And about a third of those eligible for low-income housing receive it.'
"I stood there, waiting for a response. I thought, gee, these folk should be startled, impressed, angry, something! It seemed so evident to me, the pain, the need, the danger of starvation. I thought, what am I supposed to do to move these lugs? Quote the Bible? They should know the Bible. I read the Hebrew Testament in college. I know how much it talks about helping the needy. These Christians? I got polite applause and a couple small checks dribbled in the next month."
With a desperate and angry look on his face he said to Clarice, "I'm becoming less and less impressed with these Christians and their money." He turned toward his office. "I'll be on the phone the rest of the day. Try to keep people away."
True to his plan, James started phoning churches. One by one he begged, wheedled, threatened, and nearly wept. A few responded with pledges of money. He continued through lunch. Clarice, unasked, brought him sandwiches and coffee. The afternoon became colder and the snow started again, which helped his appeals. He kept a running sum on a tablet to the right of the phone, recording dollars promised and the details involved. On the other side of the phone he crossed off the churches contacted.
The conversations took longer than expected and it became obvious that by 5 PM -- the time Benny's said a check was due before they'd deliver more bread -- he'd only have time to beg churches.
At 4 PM James stuck his head out to Clarice, "I'll need to stop at 4:30 in order to deliver the check in time." Back he went in his office and phoned until he reached the last church. Even though he was now raising money at a good rate, at 4:30 the total was only $8,400. It was good, he reported to Clarice, but not enough. He slumped into his office, fell into his chair and smacked his hands on top of his head. He was ready to cry.
The phone rang. First Lutheran church was phoning back, pledging $600. James leaped up and sprang out the door. "We did it! 9,000 smackers on the nose."
"Great," Clarice said, and handed the check to him. "Get going."
He grabbed his coat. "I won't be back. I'll deliver it and then go to each food pantry to tell them Benny's will deliver tonight."
He turned and did a little victory jump, clenching his fists, "We did it," and smiled to Clarice who was jubilant also. After he left, Clarice sank back in her chair and wondered where she'd find the $600 she promised to donate to the Lutheran church.
David Bales was a Presbyterian pastor for 33 years, a graduate of San Francisco Theological Seminary. In addition to his ministry he also has taught college: World Religions, Ethics, Biblical Hebrew and Biblical Greek (lately at College of Idaho, Caldwell). He has been a freelance writer for Stephen Ministries. His sermons and articles have appeared in Interpretation, Lectionary Homiletics, Preaching the Great Texts and other publications. For a year he wrote the online column "In The Original: Insights from Greek and Hebrew for the Lectionary Passages." His books include: Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace, Toward Easter and Beyond, Scenes of Glory: Subplots of God's Long Story, and To the Cross and Beyond: Cycle A Sermons for Lent and Easter. Dave has been a writer for StoryShare for five years. He can be reached at dobales.com.
Shepherds and Thieves
by Larry Winebrenner
John 10:1-10
Therefore Jesus said again, "I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep."
-- John 10:7
It was the talk of the town. Once again some ne'er-do-wells had climbed into old Jacob's sheep pen to snitch a lamb. They planned a jolly feast at the old man's expense.
"What does that old man need all those sheep for anyway?" Joel asked his two buddies. "He can't eat them all, and one little lamb isn't going to give him much wool. We'll be doing him a favor -- not so many animals to tend."
Jacob may have been old, but he was an experienced shepherd. He always slept with one ear open. When he heard the sheep stirring up noise, he thought, Sounds like someone's in my sheep pen.
He grabbed his staff and rushed to the gate.
"Mary. Dora. Anna." He called them each by name, first the ewes with lambs. They rushed over to him, relieved to avoid those strangers. As he called out each of the 52 names, he directed them behind him and kept moving to the center of the fold.
Finally, in the bright moonlight, he recognized Joel, Jacob, and Micah trying to hide in the shadows.
"Jacob," he said, "youth carrying the same name as I, what are you doing with these rowdies, Joel and Micah?"
"He knows us," whispered Joel. "Get him or we'll be punished by the temple authorities -- or even worse, he could complain to the Romans."
They rushed at the shepherd. The man might be old, but he had defended his flock from the bear and the wolf. In less time than it takes to tell it, the trio lay at his feet.
The one telling Jesus of the event said, "By this time the neighbors had been roused. They took the thieves to our local representatives of the Temple authorities. When they woke up," he added with a grin.
Not too long afterward, Jesus had occasion to heal a man of his blindness. The poor man had been born blind. Unfortunately, the opportunity came on a Sabbath. Unlike so many, though not all, modern doctors, Jesus didn't say, "Take two aspirin and call me in the morning." He healed the man on the spot.
He worked on the Sabbath!
Pharisees in the local synagogue took exception to such Sabbath labor. They confronted him and he backed them down, but they didn't change their minds. Jesus felt he had to get through to them. These were the leading religious figures in the community. If he could just win them....
Then he remembered the sheep-stealing incident. It was still discussed by small groups of three or four men as they rested in the shade of a local building or under a marketplace awning.
Could they see that God was calling them to be shepherds, but they were acting like thieves? Since shepherds were held in low esteem, no. Since they discussed religion, not local gossip, they didn't even know the event. Oh, some locals brought some thieves caught stealing sheep, but they were sent on to Jerusalem for trial. What was this marketplace magician who claimed he was a prophet of God, talking about?
Finally, in desperation, Jesus said plainly, "Don't you see? I am the gate. You may not even know what a sheep pen is," they stirred uneasily at this accusation, though it was true of some. Jesus continued, "But you know what a gate is. Well, I am the gate."
The Pharisees stalked off, muttering to each other much to the delight of those who had witnessed the confrontation.
Jesus turned. He said to the crowd, "I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep."
And to you, "I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep."
Come on home, little lambs. Come on home.
The Cry and the Answer
by Larry Winebrenner
Psalm 23
The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
-- Psalm 23:1
Most people are familiar with the twenty-second Psalm's opening words:
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me
, so far from the words of my groaning?
But they know only the first line cried out by Jesus from the cross.
Those who read it through to the end find the psalm to be a cry of faith rather than one of despair. If Jesus were thinking of the entire psalm in his time of pain, he surely thought of the next psalm as well. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" is quickly answered by "The Lord is my shepherd."
What does a shepherd do?
A shepherd has been known to attend goats, but a shepherd's first love is for his sheep.
As a teenager I visited my aunt and uncle living near Natural Bridge in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.
One day my three cousins and I were told by Uncle Pete to gather up the dozen or so goats to take to market. We chased them uphill. We followed them downhill. We wore ourselves out. We were driving them toward an enclosure. There we could tether each one, pick it up, and load it on the truck.
The tether was essential. It was necessary, first of all, in case it struggled out of our arms -- a couple did. The tether kept them from fleeing. It was also used to keep the goats from leaping over the truck sideboards once loaded.
Just a few years later, still in my teens, I moved to Pennsylvania where I got a job as a farm hand. One day the old farmer I worked for told his two sons and me to round up the sheep for shearing.
"Oh no!" I thought. "I hope it's not like chasing goats."
It wasn't. The older son sent his brother in one direction in the field. He told me to stay with him.
"They don't know you and they'll run away," he told me.
"Then, why am I along?" I asked.
"You'll see," he said.
He found one old ewe called Maybell. She was over near a rock pile nibbling on tufts of grass. He didn't run up and grab her.
"Come on along, Maybell," he said. "Time for a haircut."
She came toward him. He walked away and she followed him. Others fell in behind her as we proceeded.
"How did you know him?" I asked.
"Her," he told me. "It's a ewe. Rams have horns."
"How did you know her?" I asked.
"I know all my sheep," he said. "She's a lead-sheep. We haven't named them all. We ran out of names. We thought calling them by numbers was too much like treating them like jailbirds."
I could tell that was an unsavory practice, not good enough for the sheep he loved.
Soon his brother joined us leading a flock of about twenty. They joined us.
"Larry, you take the left flank. If any of the sheep start to stray, just tell them to move along. They don't know you, so they'll move up with the flock."
His brother moved to the right side without instruction. If they knew him, I wondered, how did he make them stay with the flock? But he did and we soon reached the dipping pool with the whole flock. As we passed other sheep they joined the flock.
At the dipping pool there were two pens, one on each side. A fenced passage through the pool was wide enough for two or three sheep. It led from the pen we brought them into to the second pen. They marched through the passage from one pen to the other like four-legged soldiers. When all were through, we closed the gate to the passage keeping them all in the second pen.
"Sheep dip," my mentor told me. "Kills the vermin. We'll let them dry off till about sun up. Then we have a busy day of shearing."
As I lay in bed after the day's work, I couldn't help but compare this experience with that one in Virginia. No wonder Jesus talked about separating the sheep from the goats. The goats were wild and unruly. The sheep placed themselves in the hands of the shepherd. They had faith in the shepherd because they knew the shepherd cared.
And no wonder David said, "The Lord is my shepherd."
Larry Winebrenner is now retired and living in Miami Gardens, Florida. He taught for 33 years at Miami-Dade Community College, and served as pastor of churches in Georgia, Florida, Indiana, and Wisconsin. Larry is currently active at First United Methodist Church in downtown Miami, where he leads discussion in an adult fellowship group on Sunday mornings and preaches occasionally. He has authored two college textbooks, written four novels, served as an editor for three newspapers and an academic journal, and contributed articles to several magazines.
*****************************************
StoryShare, May 15, 2011, issue.
Copyright 2011 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.
