Against the Tide of Getting

It was a joy for Jimmy (our assistant rector) and me to participate in the Gratitude Gatherings last month. He and I attended, between the two of us, all 13 gatherings. With ovur 140 people in our church, we were able to share, in more intimate settings, the blessings that God has given us.
At these gatherings, people divided into small groups of 3 or 4 people to ponder these two statements:
1. Tell us about a time when you gave, up to or to the point of sacrifice.
2. Tell us about what you are grateful and thankful for.

As I participated in the gatherings, I noted that most of you were quite comfortable to share regarding the second statement, about what you are grateful for. Yet about the first statement, about giving and about sacrifice, some were a bit stumped.

Many of us have been the recipients of giving, of giving to the point of sacrifice. Some of us had parents who sacrificed much to give us a college education. A very few in this congregation have experienced the gracious giving of an organ donor, walking around now with a donated kidney in their bodies. We have been blessed beyond measure; we are the recipients of sacrificial giving. Yet we are not only to be receivers, but givers.

However, the messages that we hear all around us tell us the opposite. Every single day we are bombarded with: “Look out for #1” and “The one with the most toys wins” and “It’s all about me.” It takes a monumental force to push against the tidal wave of consumerism and consumption. It takes a huge effort to go against the grain of self-absorption. It takes Jesus.

Jesus says to us: “If you want to save your life, you must give it away.” Jesus teaches us: “There is no greater love than giving away one’s life for a friend.” Then Jesus puts his money where his mouth is - by opening up his arms on the hard wood of the cross.

At St. Alban’s, we provide avenues to practice a new life of giving, of giving up to the point of sacrifice. You can sacrifice your Sunday mornings at 9:00 AM - by helping our children in Godly Play. You can sacrifice your money – by giving it away to God’s work and writing a seemingly ridiculous amount on your pledge card. You can sacrifice your pride - by trying out a new thing by singing in the choir or reading scripture publicly. Yet it takes Jesus, and his example, to get us to giving to the point of sacrifice.

I am so pleased that we are a grateful and thankful parish. Now I want us to go deeper in following Jesus’ call - and to push against the tide of receiving and getting. For new and resurrected life comes when we take up our cross and when we give - up to or to the point of sacrifice.

I Need God

Sermon from October 24, 2010
(Pentecost 22 – Year C)
Luke 18: 9-14
St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas

When I was in elementary school, my best friend was a boy named Bill.
Bill and I met on the very first day of kindergarten.
And for five years, we were inseparable, until his father was transferred to Dallas when we were in the fourth grade.

Bill’s family took lavish vacations every Thanksgiving and Christmas and Spring Break.
Their family had a summer home on Cape Cod.
Bill was the first kid I knew to have a digitial clock radio and a ten speed bike.
Bill’s grandfather lived with their family in the guest house attached to the house.
They were a kind and loving family.
They were good people.
But Bill’s family never went to church.

One Sunday, I invited Bill to church with my family.
I remember that is was Palm Sunday, and Bill enjoyed the outdoor procession with a real live donkey and the waving of palm branches.
Bill seemed to enjoy the service, yet neither he nor his family seemed very interested in the Christian life.

That next week, my mother saw Bill’s mother at the grocery store.
In the aisle of the grocery store, my mom exchanged small talk with Bill’s mom.
Then my mother asked Bill’s mom a question.
She asked:
“Barbara, why doesn’t your family go to church?”

Bill’s mother seemed a little taken back by the question, then thought for a moment, and answered:
“Well, we live a comfortable life, we have a great family, Don has a good job, we really have gotten everything that we need on our own.
I just suppose that it is because we don’t need God.”

Jesus tells us a story:
Two men go up to the temple to pray.
One of the men prays, saying:
“Thank God I am not like other people.
Thank God that I live a comfortable life, I have a great family, I have a good job, everything that I need I have gotten on my own.”

However, the other man stands far away in the corner of the temple.
This other man is a crook, a fraud, a tax collector.
This tax collector is so aware of his need for God that he keeps his head down, with his eyes focused on his shoes.
He is so aware of his need for God that he cries out and prays:
“God, be merciful to me, because I need you.”

Jesus then tells us that this second man, the tax collector, the man who recognized his own emptiness, his own shortcomings, went home justified.
Because all of us, all of us, need God.

I have heard it said before that all of us have a God-shaped hole in our hearts that only God can fill.
Frankly, I have found that phrase to be a little bit corny.

Yet in these last few days, I have realized in my own life, that houses and vacations and careers and money never truly fill the hole, the emptiness, in my heart.
I realize that I do have God-shaped hole in my heart that only God has filled.
I realize that I do need God.

Last Friday afternoon, my Facebook page and my emails began to buzz with tragic news.
The tragic news was that the Chapel at the Virginia Theological Seminary, my alma mater, was on fire.
As friends began to post pictures and links to news coverage, within a period of less than two hours, the beloved old chapel had all but burned to the ground.

The Chapel at Virginia Seminary was built in 1881, and included many old stained glass windows, including a Tiffany window, which melted in the fire on Friday.
This was the chapel that Jimmy and I, when we were in seminary, worshiped in every day.

At the front of the chapel, over the altar, was a stained glass window that was 129 years old.
The window depicted Jesus, with his arms open wide.
Below Jesus, the disciples huddled at his feet.
Over the stained glass window, in a giant arc, the following words were written in black letters:
Go Ye into All the World and Preach the Gospel.

Day after day, for three years, I got on my knees at Daily Morning Prayer and I looked into that window.
Day after day, for three years, I looked into Jesus’ face, and the words written above that window, and I asked God what in the world I was doing in here, preparing to be a priest.
Yet day after day, the God-sized hole in my heart was filled with the presence of Jesus.

During those three years, I volunteered to sing in the Seminary Chapel Choir, believing that this old accountant had to become a fool for Christ.
And day after day, the God-sized hole in my heart was filled with music, sometimes sung off-key, that gave me the courage to try a new thing for God, no matter how foolish I might sound or look.

During those three years, I went with my family, Susan, Scott and John, to worship at evening Community Eucharists in that creaky old seminary chapel.
And day after day, and year after year, the God-sized hole in my heart, and that of my family, was filled with the Holy Spirit, which strengthened us to realize that God was pushing us out into all the world – to preach and to love – and it would be okay.

So last Friday, when the Virginia Seminary Chapel burned to the ground, I began to grieve.
I am grieving, not just because of a building that was made of old wood and plaster and windows.
I am grieving because, during those three years of my life, I experienced that God does fill our emptiness.
In that chapel, I discovered that I do need God.

At this time of year in the Episcopal Church, we are filling out our pledge cards.
On the pledge card, we are writing down a dollar amount, an amount that represents the money we are going to give back to God in 2011, in the form of an offering.
You might not believe this, but I really do believe that the money that you take out of your wallet and your bank account really has very little to do with St. Alban’s Episcopal Church.
But the money that you take out of your bank account has everything to do with declaring that no amount of money, no house on Cape Cod, no job, no car, no stocks, no bonds, no 401(k) account – none of these things will ever fill the God-sized hole in your heart.
But the money that you take out of your bank account and give away is a testimony that only God can fill the God-sized hole in your heart.
For when we give away our money, when we give away our things, when we give away our very own lives, then we are saying that we do need God for everything.

Jesus tells us a story:
Two men go up to the temple to pray.
One man feels that he can work his way into God’s kingdom by being a good boy.
This man believes that he has never really needed God for anything.
But the other man, a tax collector, looks down at his shoes and prays, recognizing that God is his only hope, recognizing that only God can fill his emptiness.
The tax collector knows, in his heart, that he needs God.

My sisters and brothers, none of us, none of us, can work our way into God’s kingdom.
So we give away the things, the money, the status, that delude us into thinking that we have gotten everything on our own, that delude us into thinking that we have no need of God.
So we ask God to fill the empty hole in our hearts, praying:

“God, be merciful to me,
Because I need you.”

AMEN.

A Decision to Go Forward, to Give to Grow

Our son, John, is in the midst of learning how to drive a car. For those of us who know how to drive an automobile, we tend to take for granted the small tasks that go into driving. We have to remember to put our foot on the accelerator or the brake. We have to remember to put on our turn signal. You have to remember to put the car in either ‘drive’ or ‘reverse.’

Until I sat in the front seat with our brand new driver, I forgot that a simple thing - such as knowing whether you are going forward or in reverse - is a decision that must be willfully made. In our Christian faith and life, we also need to assess where we are going: forward or in reverse.

One of the members of your Vestry likes to say: “There is no such thing as status quo. We are either going backward or forward; we are either dying or growing.” For the last five years, the leadership of St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, day after day, continues to make a decision to put this parish into ‘drive’ and to go forward and to grow.

The Gospels tell us that Jesus set his face firmly and resolutely to Jerusalem. Jesus put his mission into overdrive and moved forward; Jesus never looked back wistfully at the manger in Bethlehem, but he looked forward to the Cross and to Resurrection.

In the Episcopal Church, we usually spend the month of October making a decision if we are going to go in reverse, or if we are going to go forward and grow. We call this season “stewardship,” when we assess our own lives and money and what we are going to give back to God, to further God’s mission in this place.

St. Alban’s has decided to not look backward, but to set our face forward and to continue to grow. This will take everyone, looking into our hearts and our minds – and yes, our wallets – to make sure that our transmission is not in reverse, but in drive. This will take everyone, making a decision to give to grow and to grow to give.

However, I am concerned that we tend to think of our giving, of our stewardship, as just about benefiting the Church. Our giving is not just about growing the Church; our giving is primarily about growing our relationship with God. Jesus asks us to fight the good fight, to fight to be a giver, because Jesus is a Giver. And when we give (and I cannot fully explain this, folks), then our hearts expand as we do not look wistfully backwards, but as we set our face firmly toward our own Cross of sacrifice - and Resurrection to new life.

Please make a willful decision to go forward. Make a decision to grow your heart, a decision to give to grow.

Fight - To Be A Giver

Sermon from September 26, 2010
(Pentecost 18 – Year C)
1 Timothy 6: 6-19
St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas

Last weekend was Homecoming weekend at Midway High School.
At Midway High School, it is a tradition on the Thursday night before the football game, to have a giant carnival.
Then everyone goes into the stadium for a pep rally of sorts, where the Midway band plays and the Homecoming court is introduced.
The evening is capped off with a big fireworks display.

I took our son, John, to the Homecoming festivities.
And on the way home in the car, I found myself humming the Midway High School fight song.
I asked John:
“Do you know the words to your school fight song?”
In response, he began to sing the words.

Then John asked me:
“Dad, do you remember the words to your high school’s fight song?
And out from the fog of my middle-aged memory, the words and tune to the Memorial High School fight song came pouring out of the recesses of my brain:

{sung}
Fight, Mustangs, fight with all your might.
For the red and white
Fight, onward, to vict’ry
And we’ll win this game tonight!

The Apostle Paul remembered the words his fight song, a fight song that he teaches to young Timothy, in his First Letter to Timothy.
The Apostle Paul is a mentor to Timothy as Paul teaches this fight song:

Fight the good fight with all your might.
Fight the good fight to take hold of real life, a life that is not defined by money or possessions.
Fight the good fight to give, to be generous, to give away your money.
Fight – to be a giver.

Now most human beings believe that giving is a good thing.
We give presents at birthday parties.
We wrap up gifts with bows and put them around the Christmas tree.
We might give to United Way through our offices or we put a dollar or two in the collection plate at church.
We might think that there is no resistance at all to giving.

Yet when we try to give away too much, when we go overboard, or when we are foolish with our giving,
Then, there is resistance.

And in order to combat this resistance to give abundantly,
In order to give with foolish extravagance,
In order to give like God gives,
We must fight – to be a giver.

As many of you know, the scriptures that we read in church are on a three-year cycle.
This means that the scriptures that we just read a few minutes ago are the same scriptures that we read three years ago, the same scriptures that deal mainly with money and wealth and giving.

Three years ago, I preached on these scriptures.
And I told this congregation back then that Susan and I were in the midst of contemplating how much money we were going to give back to God in the form of a financial pledge to St. Alban’s Episcopal Church.
In that sermon, I told you all about the struggle that Susan and I have with giving.

You see, even three years ago, Susan wanted to rip up the carpet in our home and put in hard wood floors.
Yet when we got the bid proposal on how much it would cost us to put in hardwood floors, the cost was just about the same amount of money that we give away to God through the work of St. Alban’s.

Through much discussion and struggle, we finally decided to go ahead and give the money away, rather than to get hardwood floors.
Susan and I decided to give sacrificially.
And every time that we wrote a check to St. Alban’s, we knew very clearly what it was that we were giving up, in order to be a giver.

After I delivered that sermon three years ago, where I described our struggle, I must say that I was quite surprised by the reaction from some people in this congregation.
Most of the feedback that I received from that sermon about sacrificial giving was from well-meaning people who scolded me for giving so much away.
I received emails from people telling me that I should just go ahead and buy those wood floors for Susan.
I received comments from people telling me that I already give enough to the church and that I should not deny Susan the pleasure of the floors that she has always wanted.

And I thought to myself:
Good grief, now I have to fight the members of my own congregation to be a giver?!

For in order to give abundantly,
In order to give with foolish extravagance,
In order to give like God gives,
We must fight – to be a giver.

Now Susan and I are certainly not perfect givers.
And within Jeff Fisher’s heart, I encounter the resistance to give, every day.
I have a kid in college and a house with a mortgage and four drivers on my auto insurance policy.
The temptation is great for me to hold on tightly to my money and my things.
Every day I feel the resistance to giving with open hands and with extravagant foolishness.

Yet it helps me to know that Jesus understands our resistance to giving.
It helps me to know that Jesus understands that we must fight to be a foolish giver.

During the last months of Jesus’ life, Jesus tells his good friend, Peter, what it will mean for Jesus to give away everything.
Jesus tells Peter that he must go to Jerusalem, where Jesus says that he will be killed.
But a well-meaning Peter resists this idea of this extravagant and foolish giving,
And Peter takes Jesus aside to scold him, saying:
“Jesus, are you crazy?
You don’t have to give away everything!

In response, Jesus uses some of the strongest language that he ever uses in the Gospels as he wheels around and screams at Peter:
“Get behind me, Satan!
For you are holding onto things, instead of fighting to be a giver.”

You see, Jesus is the ultimate giver, in that he gives away everything.
For Jesus knows that those who lose their life, who give it all away, will find the only life that really matters.
And Jesus knows that
In order to combat our resistance to give abundantly,
In order to give foolishly,
In order to give like Jesus gives,
We must fight – to be a giver.

So my friends, fight the good fight –
And when you discover that a co-worker or a friend is having a hard time making ends meet,
Write them a big, fat check.
Give away so much that your friends will scold you saying:
“Are you crazy?
You don’t have to give away everything!”

Fight the good fight –
And when the collection plate comes around this morning,
Empty out your purse or wallet.
Give away so much that your friends will scold you saying:
“Are you crazy?
You don’t have to give away everything!”

Because, almost two thousand years ago, the Apostle Paul wrote a letter to young Timothy, teaching Timothy the words to our fight song.
And this morning, the Apostle Paul teaches us that

In order to give foolishly,
In order to give like God gives,
In order to take hold of the only life that really matters:

Fight the good fight with all your might.
Fight - to be a giver.

AMEN.