Tag Archives: stewardship

Selfless in Extravagant Generosity – sermon on 2 Corinthians 8:1-9

January 21, 2018

We want you to know, brothers and sisters, about the grace of God that has been granted to the churches of Macedonia; for during a severe ordeal of affliction, their abundant joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. For, as I can testify, they voluntarily gave according to their means, and even beyond their means, begging us earnestly for the privilege of sharing in this ministry to the saints— and this, not merely as we expected; they gave themselves first to the Lord and, by the will of God, to us, so that we might urge Titus that, as he had already made a beginning, so he should also complete this generous undertaking among you. 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. I do not say this as a command, but I am testing the genuineness of your love against the earnestness of others. 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. (2 Corinthians 8:1-9)

Here’s a Random Question: How many of you prefer the window seat on a plane? Aisle? How about the Middle – is there anyone who really loves to sit in the middle seat? Continue reading

Identity Markers: One With Christ – Sermon on Matthew 22:15-22

October 18, 2020 (video available here)
Earlier versions of this sermon were preached on October 19, 2014, and October 22, 2017.

We’ve learned a lot from Paul’s letter to the Philippians over the past few weeks, but this week we jump back into the gospel according to Matthew. We’re discovering the identity markers that tell others we belong to Jesus. We’ve explored the markers of humility in obedience, surrender, and joy. In today’s reading, Jesus teaches us how the image we present to the world is a key indicator of where our allegiance really lies. Continue reading

Discipleship 101: Through Christ – sermon on Philippians 4:8-13

October 15, 2017

This week concludes our Discipleship 101 series with an introduction to our next season of focus. We could call it “Discipleship 201” and bring everything to the next level, but in reality, this is more of a graduate course in following Jesus. From this point forward, we have to decide if this Jesus-following path is really something to which we want to commit our entire lives.

I’m reminded of the time that Jesus’ teachings became too difficult for his disciples to understand, and some turned away from following him. Jesus looked at the twelve and asked, “What about you? Are you going to leave me too?” And Simon Peter answered with a question of his own, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” (John 6:66-69)

Coming to know Christ in the same deeply personal way as those first disciples did brings us to a new level of maturity in faith. This level can only be found when, like those first disciples, we decide to be fully devoted followers of Jesus Christ. The apostle Paul addresses this kind of Christian maturity in his letter to the church at Philippi.

It’s interesting that the verses we will read in a few moments do not appear anywhere in the Revised Common Lectionary cycle of readings. The lectionary only goes as far as verse 9 in this 4th chapter of Philippians. I find this curious, because it omits one of the most popular verses found in scripture – right up there with John 3:16 and the 23rd Psalm: Continue reading

Ten Per Cent Return – Sermon on Luke 17:11-19

Would you consider ten percent to be a good return on an investment?  Of course, it depends a lot on the investment doesn’t it? Investing in a fast food franchise will look different from a certificate of deposit at the local bank. Even in an uncertain economy, if you put something in, it’s usually with the expectation that you will get back something more.

By now, you have read the sermon title, and you may be thinking that you’re in for the annual stewardship sermon, that sermon you never like to hear because it makes you feel guilty about the amount of money you contribute – or don’t – to the church budget. If you’re looking for an easy way to sneak out of the sanctuary about now, you can relax. I already preached the stewardship sermon for today.  It’s sitting over there in that apple core. No, in today’s gospel lesson, Luke tells us of a kind of investment that goes beyond money. Luke isn’t talking about finances here, but about faith. While it might seem that Jesus sees only a ten per cent return on his investment in an outcast’s life, the actual return cannot be measured as easily as a savings account balance. Here’s the Good News, as recorded in the 17th chapter of Luke’s Gospel, verses 11-19.

On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him.  Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean.  Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice.  He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him.  And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean?  But the other nine, where are they?  Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?  Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”

Luke reminds us that Jesus is on the march toward Jerusalem, toward the cross. But there’s a slight problem with Luke’s geography: Samaria isn’t really “on the way” to Jerusalem. Maybe Luke isn’t talking about geography as much as he’s giving us a time frame for this story. Though Jesus has been traveling to Jerusalem for several chapters, he’s still nearer the beginning of his journey than the end. Luke doesn’t want us to lose sight of the final destination, however. Jesus may be taking the scenic route, but Jerusalem is where he will eventually go.

We have our first hint that something unusual is about to happen when Luke tells us that these ten lepers approached Jesus. Leprosy could mean any of a number of skin diseases, but whatever the disease, being “unclean” meant being an outcast, unable to participate in normal society. By law, lepers were supposed to maintain a safe distance from others, warning people away with shouts of “Unclean!  Unclean!” But these lepers draw near to Jesus, at least near enough to call out to him.

So here we have ten lepers outside a village. But instead of warning Jesus to stay away, the lepers do something that is highly remarkable. Not only do they call out to Jesus to have mercy on them, they call him “Master” – a title that no one else uses to address Jesus in all the gospel accounts, except for the twelve disciples. It’s worth pondering how these ten outcasts, who have been excluded from social interaction with the general population, could possibly know who Jesus was, or that he had the authority to help them. But they readily appeal to that authority.  Instead of warning Jesus to keep his distance, they put themselves at his mercy.

This particular healing story appears only here, in Luke’s gospel. These ten lepers don’t get as much publicity as the one in chapter 5, whose story also gets told by Mark and Matthew. But this is a much more dramatic healing, because Jesus doesn’t even have to touch these lepers in order for them to be cleansed. He simply sees them.

A couple of weeks ago, we heard the story of the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man passed right by Lazarus, day after day, and never saw him until it was too late. His wealth and his self-centeredness did not allow him to really see Lazarus. It is so easy to ignore the needs around us as we go through our daily routines. It’s easy to look the other way whenever we see a beggar on the street corner, or a single parent struggling with young children and no support network, or a person facing physical or mental health challenges. How often do we turn away from people who make us uncomfortable, only because they are different from us?

But Jesus sees these ten lepers, and immediately tells them to go show themselves to the priests. This must have sounded a little strange to these lepers. Showing yourself to the priest was something you did after your skin disease had run its course and you were well again. Jesus was acknowledging the faith these lepers had shown when they called him “Master.” The lepers had already demonstrated their willingness to submit to Jesus’ spiritual authority. When he sends them off to the priests, they don’t ask questions. They just go.

And as they went, they were made clean. 

But only one of them seems to notice what has happened. Only one of them saw that he had been healed, just as Jesus saw him to heal his disease. Only this one turned back toward Jesus, praising God with a loud voice. The same loud voice that, moments before, should have been yelling “Unclean!  Unclean!” had called out “Have mercy!” instead. Now, this very same loud voice was whooping and hollering in praise to God. He knew that it wasn’t some magic trick or the number of steps he had taken toward the priests that had healed him. He knew it was God’s work, accomplished through Jesus. The leper saw. And the leper’s awareness is, quite literally, the turning point in the story.

The leper turned back. What a beautiful picture of repentance Luke paints for us here! The leper turned away from mindless obedience to empty rules, as he turned toward the Source and Giver of Life. The leper’s response was spontaneous and authentic. The leper praised God, but he also prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. The leper’s faith had shown itself in action as he headed for the priests, but the glory he gave to God showed itself in humility and thanksgiving.

Then we get to the punchline: And he was a Samaritan.

Luke loves to remind his readers that Jesus came to reverse the status quo, and one of his favorite ways of doing this is to call attention to Gentiles whose faith brings them into the family of God. First century Jews thought they had exclusive rights to God’s love and goodness. Luke, who was Greek and addressed his writing to a Gentile audience, delighted in pointing out that God had promised salvation to all nations, that God loved all people, and that Israel had no more claim to God’s grace than any other nation.

But there is more at work here than the theme of reversal that threads its way throughout Luke’s writing. Luke carefully sets up the story so that one might assume all ten lepers, though they may be outcasts, are acceptable outcasts. Their leprosy at least has the potential of disappearing after a time of quarantine, and they therefore have the potential to become acceptable again, welcomed back into society. But to a first-century Jew, Samaritans were a particularly distasteful type of outcast. Samaritans were un-redeemable because they refused to acknowledge the Temple in Jerusalem as the only appropriate place to worship God. No Jew in his right mind would ever welcome a Samaritan into fellowship.

Like a good mystery writer, Luke has planted a tiny detail at the beginning of his story that seems unimportant at first. Jesus was passing through the region between Samaria and Galilee. We don’t know exactly where the village is located. We don’t know if the lepers are Jewish or Samaritan, or some unusual combination of outcasts from both nations. When they head for the priests, we don’t know which direction they go.

But this tiny detail sets the scene for Luke to shock his readers with the punch line: oh by the way, the guy that showed the right response to God’s grace? The only one who came back to glorify God and give thanks? That guy? Yeah, HE was a Samaritan! He was someone you would avoid at all costs on at least two counts: a leper and a Samaritan. A double outcast! And yet, Jesus saw him and healed him. What’s more, this Samaritan leper was the only one of ten who saw Jesus for who he really was, the only one who returned to thank Jesus and give glory to God.

Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? 

For the first time, we get a hint that Jesus is not traveling alone. The disciples have not been mentioned in this story. But now Jesus begins to teach by asking a series of questions, so we get the feeling that the disciples have been nearby all along, watching the story unfold before them. Interestingly, the word given to us in the New Revised Standard Version as “asked” really means “answered” in the Greek. Jesus is answering, or responding to, what has just happened, and he grabs this teachable moment to show his disciples again that the Kingdom of God is not what they expect it to be.

All ten of the lepers had faith enough to call on Jesus, submit to his authority, and ask for his mercy. All ten responded to Jesus in obedience, and all ten received physical healing. But where are the other nine? The obvious answer is that they are still headed toward the priests. Whether this is because of their blind obedience to the Law, or simply their eagerness to be restored to society, they are still going the other way. They may have recognized Jesus’ power to heal, but they have missed the point. They have not seen, as the Samaritan has seen, that faith means more than blind obedience.

Jesus asks, “Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” The word “foreigner” is used only in this one instance in the New Testament. Jesus calls attention to the fact that this one, born outside the people of God, is the only one who behaves in a manner appropriate to a true child of Abraham. Only this foreigner, who could not enter the inner courts of the Jewish temple, has shown the kind of faith that responds in gratitude to God’s grace.

Jesus restores the one at his feet by telling him to get up. As he has done before, and will do again before he finally reaches Jerusalem, Jesus announces, “Your faith has made you well.” Jesus is talking about more than leprosy here. He is proclaiming the Samaritan’s salvation as well as his physical health. Another pastor friend once commented, “All ten lepers were saved from leprosy, but only one is saved from despair.” Only the one who came back to give thanks, praising and glorifying God, showed the kind of faith that leads to salvation.

The lesson Jesus teaches is clear: The only authentic response to God’s saving grace is faith shown in action, and gratitude that erupts in praising God. So what keeps us from showing our faith by acting on it? What prevents us from being so grateful we can’t help but give God our praise?

I find that I’m a lot like the nine lepers who disappear down the road: it’s a lot easier for me to simply act on my faith than it is for me to praise God out loud for all the world to hear. I’d like to think I remember to be grateful for God’s goodness to me. I do say prayers of thanksgiving every day, but, if I’m honest, I also know that I’m a little embarrassed when I hear someone praising God for the traffic light staying green until they are through the intersection, or for the price on the gas pump going up just after they’ve pumped a tank-full of gasoline. “How nice for you” I think. “What about the person right behind you?”

But the truth is that, while I am judging others for being self-centered in their gratitude, I’m not giving God very much glory in my day-to-day life. I can’t honestly say that praise erupts from my lips whenever I notice how good God has been to me. I’m a little embarrassed, to tell you the truth. What kind of weirdo would people think I am?

Luke gives us Jesus’ answer over and over: the kind of weirdo who turns away from the status quo and worships shamelessly at Jesus’ feet. It is no accident that the one who gets it right in this story is the Samaritan, the double outcast. The truth is that we don’t like to identify ourselves as outcasts, as undesirables. But that is what Jesus does time and again throughout the gospel story. He not only reaches out to the dregs of society, he identifies with them, eats with them, walks with them.

Luke often describes society’s “undesirable” people as models of faith and examples of Kingdom living, and the Samaritan leper is a prime example. Luke forces us, along with his first century readers, to recognize that God loves every single person ever born, and God wants every single person ever born to participate in Kingdom joy and fellowship. Luke reminds us that everyone is eligible to participate in the Kingdom of God.

Luke uses the theme of reversal to keep us on our toes, to keep us from falling into the trap of thinking we’ve made it into the “desirable” club. The truth is that God doesn’t care how “desirable” we are by the world’s standards. In fact, if we take Scripture seriously, God loves the ones we consider ‘undesirable’ at least as much as He loves anyone else. And he calls us to love them, too. Not judge them. Not scold them. Not ignore them. Love them.

God wants each of us to become the full person we were created to be, so that we can enjoy God’s fellowship. That transformation can only take place when we put our complete trust in God, even when it doesn’t make sense to do so, just as the ten lepers started walking toward the priests before there was any evidence that their leprosy was gone.

To be fully transformed, however, means that we not only let our faith show in what we do, we express our thanks in ways that give glory to God. As we repent of our sin and turn toward Christ, God continues to transform us and we become people who, like the Samaritan leper, spontaneously give glory to God. Through the power of his Holy Spirit, God changes us into the more and more perfect image of God we were created to be. And it is this image that God uses to attract others – outcasts like us – into the Kingdom of God.

So how does this fit with stewardship? It’s simple, really. As God continues to work in us, and as we continue to trust him, we become more and more like Christ. As we see with the eyes of Jesus, our hearts are moved to compassion just has Christ’s heart is moved. We may not have the gift of healing that lets us say, “Go your way, your faith has made you well.” But we do have gifts we can share. Trusting God to use them for his glory, we offer them as our own act of worship. When we begin to see the other outcasts around us, and we admit that we are outcasts, too, we become free. We’re free to give God thanks and praise for the work he is doing here. And God calls us to be part of that work, sharing our gifts, meeting the needs we see, contributing whatever we can to the ministry God has given us to do in this time and place.

The Parable of the Ten Apples

First, let me give credit where it’s due.  This isn’t my story.  I stole it from Rev. Phil Stenberg, who used to offer this little parable every year on Stewardship Sunday as the children’s sermon. I publish this story here so that the first paragraph of my sermon, “Ten Per Cent Return” makes sense. It needs props: ten apples. They need to be small, but not too small.

So, here’s the parable, as I received it from Phil, along with instructions for telling it:

Once upon a time, there was a man who had nothing … and God gave him ten apples.  He gave him three apples to eat, three to trade for shelter from the sun and rain, and three apples to trade for clothing to wear. He gave him one apple so that the man might have something to give back to God to show his gratitude for the other nine.
The man ate three apples (distribute apples to three children).  He traded three for a shelter from the sun and the rain (distribute these, too). He traded three for clothing to wear (hand out three more apples). Then he looked at the tenth apple.  It seemed bigger and juicier than the rest.  He knew that God had given him the tenth apple so he could return it to God out of gratitude for the other nine.  But the tenth apple looked bigger, and juicier than the rest.  And he reasoned that God had all the other apples in the world …

so the man ate the tenth apple

(this is where you must actually eat the apple as the children watch)

– and gave God back the core.

(Place the apple core in a prominent place, where it can be seen throughout the remainder of the worship service.)

Rich Toward God – Sermon on Luke 12:13-21

This was the first sermon I preached at First UMC New Ulm, on August 4, 2013, as I began my first appointment to full-time ministry. To find an updated (and possibly improved) version of this message for August 4, 2019, click here. 

In today’s passage from the gospel of Luke, we find Jesus in the middle of a long journey.  The trip from Nazareth to Jerusalem only takes about three days to walk, but Luke spends nearly ten chapters getting Jesus and his disciples from point A to point B, as they travel to the place where Jesus will ultimately die for the sins of the world.

This has not been a speedy trip, by any means.  Jesus has been stopping along the way to teach his disciples about the Kingdom of God.  Because the locals also gathered to hear what Jesus had to say, many of his teachings have taken the form of parables.  These short stories featured familiar, everyday characters and common events that cut right to the heart of what Jesus wanted his disciples to learn.  Over and over again, throughout the gospel of Luke, Jesus told stories like these to point out that the Kingdom of God is not what we humans might expect.

The Kingdom of God flips our understanding of power upside down, and our values right side up.  You heard this reversal a couple of weeks ago, in the story of Martha and her sister Mary.  You even heard it last week, when the theme of worship was “change.”  Now, Jesus is about to challenge some commonly accepted ideas concerning wealth and greed.  But this lesson is not a “render to Caesar that which is Caesar’s” kind of lesson.  Jesus is more concerned with attitudes of the heart than the difference between tithes and taxes.

Hear the Word of the Lord, as given to us through the Gospel of Luke, chapter 12, beginning in verse 13.

13 Someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.”  14 But he said to him, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” 15 And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” 16 Then he told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly. 17 And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ 18 Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. 19 And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ 20 But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ 21 So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”  – Luke 12:13-21

This is the Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

A wise pastor once told me, “Interruptions are where true ministry begins.”  He went on to explain that it is in the interruptions to our daily routine that God breaks in with reminders that we are here to do the work of the Kingdom, and that work is far more important than ticking things of our “to do” lists.

So here is Jesus, in the middle of his daily routine of teaching, interrupted by someone who has apparently not even been listening to what Jesus has been saying.  Jesus has been instructing his disciples on the need for faithfulness in situations of persecution[1] when he is abruptly interrupted by this person from the crowd, who demands assistance.

How rude, right?

To be fair, it would not have been unusual for someone who needed to resolve a legal matter to appeal to a local rabbi for help.  Law and religion were so closely intertwined, that there was barely any distinction between a judge and a teacher.  If this was a young man whose older brother had refused to share the father’s inheritance, he might have seen Jesus as one who would have the legal authority to resolve the dispute.  On the other hand, it may be that this young man was behaving selfishly, rebelling against an older brother who was trying to keep the family together by keeping the property together.  We don’t know.  But Jesus saw straight into this young man’s heart, and knew immediately that the man’s legal concern was not the real problem. The real problem was greed.

I’m sure the young man was surprised when Jesus refused to help him. Wasn’t this the same guy who had worked miracles everywhere he went?  If he could make blind people see and crippled people walk, didn’t he have the authority to do a simple thing like force an older brother to do what the law said he should do with their father’s property?  And what did all this talk about greed have to do with fairness?  Instead of helping, Jesus was giving this young man the brush off!  How rude, right?

The misuse of wealth was actually a major topic of discussion in first century Palestine, and almost every chapter of Luke’s Gospel has some reference to money and material resources.[2]  The tenth Commandment – thou shalt not covet – was familiar to everyone.  Greed is nothing more than a desire to have more than we actually have, and Jesus used this “teachable moment” to explain why greed has no place in the Kingdom of God.  Instead of an interruption, Jesus treated the man’s demand as an opportunity to upset the apple cart of expectations one more time, teaching that the ways of God are nothing like our ways.

So Jesus tells a story, a story with a twist.  We’ve heard it often enough that it doesn’t hold much surprise for us, so let me tell it again, to show you where the surprise came for these people who heard it the very first time.

There was this rich farmer, who had a really good year.  The ratio of sunshine to rain had been perfect, and the timing of the weather couldn’t have been better.  Without any more labor than he usually put into his farm, the land had produced a bumper crop, and harvest was going to be greatIn first century Palestine, this would have been evidence of God’s blessing on a good man.  Good fortune meant you’d been doing what you were supposed to do, and God was smiling on you.

What shall I do with all this good fortune?” the farmer asks himselfWait a minute, the crowd is thinking. We know what a guy talking to himself means in story language – and it isn’t good. People who talk to themselves are usually the bad guy in the story – but this must be a good guy, right? I mean, look at all these abundant crops?  So the crowd leans in to listen to Jesus more closely, wondering which way the punch line is going to fall.

“I know!” says the farmer. “I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, to store all my wealth! Then I can relax, eat, drink, and be merry!”  Okay, this just doesn’t make sense, some in the crowd start to grumble. You don’t tear down your barns right before harvest!  And why is he storing his wealth?  … Unless he’s planning to manipulate the corn futures.  No, no, others argue.  He’s just being a good agri-businessman!  He knows how to play the market! You’re not listening, a third group chimes in.  Apparently, he plans to hoard it all for himself!

While the people hearing the story start to argue among themselves, Jesus delivers the punch line:You fool!”  God says (and this is very unusual, for God to be an actual character in the drama of one of these stories, by the way). “This very night your life is required of you.  So now, who’s going to get all that wealth you accumulated?”  The crowd simmers down to think about this unexpected twist.  Death hadn’t been part of the picture until now.  And, if they were honest with themselves, God hadn’t been part of the picture, either.

That’s the point.  That’s why we call this story the Parable of the Rich Fool.  Jesus wasn’t saying that there is anything wrong with wealth.  Jesus was saying this: instead of foolishly focusing your effort on getting rich for yourself, be rich toward God.

Almost a year ago, an article appeared in the Minneapolis Star Tribune that was titled, “Possessed by Money.”  The article described some research done by Kathleen Vohs,  from the Carlson School of Management at the University of Minnesota.  This research explored the psychological effects of wealth, and used a number of different tests with a wide range of subjects.  What she discovered to be consistent among all the findings was this: “Subjects with money on their minds are self-sufficient, self-focused, and anything but selfless.”  In all of the experiments, Vohs found that “people who are reminded of money are really good at pursuing goals, but they’re not that interpersonally kind or warm.  They’re kind of standoffish, keeping in their own head, not interested in being friends with anyone.”[3]  Vohs describes these people as “siloed” more than anti-social, and she is quick to say that we are not talking about wealthy people, necessarily, but those who are pursuing wealth, people who think about money a lot.  Some really wealthy people don’t think about money very much at all, while some middle class and very poor people think about money all the time.  It’s the thinking about money that creates the isolation Vohs describes in her work.

No wonder Jesus calls this rich farmer a fool!  By focusing on his own accumulation of wealth and goods, he has isolated himself from others.  Friends, this is not what the Kingdom of God is about.  The Kingdom of God is about community, interconnectedness, living and working together for the glory of God.

So, how can we be rich toward God?  Let me be clear here.  This is not a sermon on financial stewardship.  I am not talking about increasing your pledge or tithing.  That would be a pretty foolish way for me to begin my ministry here with you at First United Methodist Church of New Ulm!  But it is possible that, as we begin this work together, you might have some high hopes, some expectation of things changing, adding new members, balancing the budget with ease, paying 100 per cent of our apportionment this year, being able to just relax, eat, drink, and be merry on Wednesday nights.

These might all seem like really good goals.  But none of them will be achieved until we, as a church, and as individuals, can honestly say that we are being rich toward God.  What, exactly, does that mean?

Being rich toward God means placing value on the same things God values.  It means loving the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength, and your neighbor as yourself.[4]  It means loving mercy, acting justly, and walking humbly with your God.[5] It means enjoying a rich spiritual life of prayer, Bible study, and fellowship with other believers as we seek to follow Jesus Christ and learn from him together.  It means being honest with ourselves about our own hoarding of God’s riches, the talents and gifts he has given to each one of us to use for his glory.  It means living lives of forgiveness, asking for it when we need it, and offering forgiveness to others.  It means repenting of the sin of self-sufficiency, and trusting that God will provide for all our needs if we will be rich toward God in the way we live our lives.

As I have visited with some of you this past week, and observed your faith in action, I have seen many ways in which this congregation is already being rich toward God.  You may not notice this.  You might take for granted the many things you already do that put God at the center and bring him glory, so let me take a moment to tell you what I’ve seen.

I’ve seen the Lord’s Laborers painstakingly cutting up shopping bags, so that others can crochet them into sleeping mats for the homeless.  I’ve seen children loved and fed on Wednesday nights, I’ve seen evidence that this congregation wants to participate in the mission of the whole church, by gathering school supplies for United Way, and pooling efforts and resources with neighboring churches for Vacation Bible School.  I’ve seen a calendar get posted on the bulletin board, where you can sign up to provide a meal for the family of one of our members who is recovering from surgery.  I’ve seen a church council bowed in prayer together, and resources shared with those who come to this church looking for help with gas or food.  I’ve seen a multi-generational group of people become an inter-generational part of the body of Christ, loving our children, valuing the wisdom of our elders, working together to share Christ’s love.  And that’s just in my first week among you.

In Paul’s first letter to the church at Thessolonika, he commended his co-workers there for doing all the right things in ministry.  And then he wrote, “Finally, then, brothers and sisters, we ask and urge you in the Lord Jesus, that as you received from us how you ought to walk and to please God, just as you are doing, that you do so more and more.”[6]

Do what you are already doing more and more, thinking less about possessions and money, and more and more about God at the very center of your lives.  The Psalmist writes, “Whom have I in heaven but you?  And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.  My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”[7]

As we approach this Table today, as we offer up our worship and praise and thanks to the God who saves us, may we strive to strive less. May we hope to hope more. May we love without reservation, less concerned with ourselves and more dependent on God to provide for us, to care for us, to be rich toward us in grace and mercy. May we be rich toward God. Amen.

[1] Luke 12:1-12

[2] Klyne Snodgrass, Stories with Intent, 389-390.

[3] Bill Ward, Star Tribune, August 30, 2012, Variety section, page 1.

[4] Mark 12:30-31

[5] Micah 6:8

[6] 1 Thessalonians 4:1

[7] Psalm 73:25-26