|
"The Ancient Tug-Of-War" Sermon Delivered By
Reverend Richard E. Stetler – November 25, 2012 Centenary United Psalm 127; Mark 12:38-44
Stewardship Sunday
One of the
oldest struggles in life is when we are about to take a risk when the
outcome is uncertain. This
age-old struggle is between fear and faith.
It happens when we leave home for the first time, when we go for
our first job interview, when we stand in front of a pastor with someone
with whom we hope to spend the rest of our lives, or when we face a
circumstance over which we have little control.
For years I was a
morning runner. The six
miles a day finally caught up with the ball and socket of my left hip.
When cartilage is gone, the medical community calls that
bone on bone.
Between the increasing pain and my having to tell people why I
had started limping, I decided to see a surgeon. After scheduling the
surgery, his staff gave me some paperwork to take home.
While reviewing this material, I learned how life-changing this
surgery could be. It was
strongly recommended that I prepare a last will and testament and have
all my affairs in order. That, by itself, was fairly ominous! The morning arrived
for my procedure. Twenty
minutes before this event, my surgeon, Marc Brassard, came to see me for
the final briefing. He
introduced me to the anesthesiologist that was going to accompany him
during the surgery. This young woman looked as though she had just
graduated from medical school the day before.
Marc must have noticed the
expression on my face because he immediately said, “Jenny is an
excellent anesthesiologist with whom I have had the pleasure to work for
some time.” We visited for a
while and then she asked if I had any questions or issues I would like
to discuss. I said, “Yes,
rather than giving me a general anesthetic, I would prefer an epidural.”
She responded, “I can do that.”
She added, “Of course, there can be some side effects.
You could be paralyzed for the rest of your life.”
I looked at my surgeon’s face after hearing her words and his
eyes had grown to the size of golf balls.
She covered from sharing her stark honesty with more encouraging
words, “If I were going to have this procedure, I would also select to
have an epidural.” She did not quit
while she was ahead. She
continued, “Of course, with a general anesthetic, patients always run
the risk of experiencing brain damage.” At this point I started
laughing. If these moments
were designed to put patients at ease, I had not gotten that message.
My laughter put both of them at
peace. I continued in that
vain by asking her how many of her patients are still living.
The three of us laughed.
The two of them realized that fear and apprehension had not
blocked my total trust in both of them. I
had already won that tug-of-war. Having faith
is the most creative approach to the key risks that all of us must
eventually take during our lives.
Each time we board an aircraft, for example, there is no
shortage of issues to worry about if worrying is our general response to
living.
We hope and trust that all is well with the pilot’s marriage,
that he has had enough sleep, that he has not been consuming alcohol and
that his home is not in foreclosure.
Apprehensive people do not want their pilots distracted by
anything. On one of our
flights to As the flight
attendants were coming down the aisle with their cart of drinks and
pretzels, the aircraft started making a noise that I had never heard.
The plane began vibrating.
This episode nearly sent this man into a panic attack.
Recognizing his state of mind, I
reached over and took hold of his arm and said, “Look at the flight
attendant. Does she look
alarmed to you?” He said,
“No.” I said, “If something
were radically wrong with this aircraft, you would notice it on her
face.” He calmed down as the noise and vibration subsided.
He was still locked in a
tug-of-war between fear and trust. As we consider our
lesson today from Mark’s Gospel, we find Jesus and the disciples looking
at the face of another individual.
If there was a problem with her faith, it would have shown up in
her face. They would have
seen her reticence and hesitation.
There was none of that as she put into the We do not know her
name, her age or anything about her responsibilities. All we know is
that she was a poor widow.
Jesus used this scene to illustrate to his disciples that authentic
giving comes when faith has won the
tug-of-war over the fears of
not having enough. Jesus’
observation has become quite a visual image for every generation since
it happened. Why is it that we
need to be reminded how grateful we are for the countless blessings that
we take for granted every day?
Think of how old Centenary is.
Think of the men, women and children who have come and gone from
the congregations that have worshipped in our church.
We are still here and we are still in mission.
Centenary’s financial support not only should be automatic but we should
also be committed to giving a little more every year.
As we all know, church expenses never stay the same year
after year. Lois and I attended
the American Thanksgiving service held at the Anglican Cathedral on
Thursday. Following the
service we were invited to a reception that followed.
We decided to meet some other Americans since we have not met
many. The service was sponsored by
The American Society of Bermuda.
We introduced ourselves to Canadians, Italians and only one
American. Perhaps most of the
Americans did not stay for the fellowship period. As we were going
through the line at the refreshment table, there was a woman in front of
me that had four plates of sandwiches stacked on top of each other.
She used a fifth plate to scoop spoonful after spoonful of
various fruits from a platter until she could not stack any more. As I was watching
her scoop the fruit without pausing, I realized that this would probably
be the only meal she would have that day.
We sat behind the refreshment table as others like her came in
and voiced surprise that most of the platters were already empty.
Another woman went into the kitchen to see if other trays were
coming out to replenish those that had been emptied.
We never know the
life stories of people who have to spend energy wondering where their
next meal is coming from. We
should find it a compelling message when people hover around the church
when they notice that food might be served.
Where would they go if churches were no longer in every
community? Where would we be
if Centenary was no longer there to nourish us? It may seem odd to
us that we live in a day when churches have to use all types of
sophisticated, psychological games
and employ tactics to inspire their congregations to give toward their
ministries. I suspect most of us experience that
tug-of-war in this economic climate as we attempt to justify our
caution when it comes to our generosity. I recall how
relieved I felt when Centenary’s Council decided not to do a Stewardship
campaign this year to support our 2013 spending plan.
It has always been a cause
of frustration for me to have to remind the congregations I have served
about their right and privilege to give to their church.
I dreaded having to do it.
During my ministry, I have devoted one sermon a year to it and I
do not mention the financial needs of the church again.
I trusted my congregations to do
the right thing and they
always did. A good friend of mine recently e-mailed me a number of cartoons. Among them were two that featured the observations of children about money matters. A little boy asked, “Dad, why are you giving 17 percent to the waitress and you only give God 10 percent?” The second cartoon showed a little boy sitting on Jesus’ lap, a scene reminiscent of sitting on Santa’s lap with a wish list. Jesus had patiently listened to all of the little guy’s requests and finally he said, “How about, instead of giving you everything that you think you want, I give you everything that you need.” Both of those cartoons had a message. During this season
of Thanksgiving, so often we err on the side of caution and hesitancy
and we forget about God’s nature.
If we want to aspire to
create as God creates, we have to learn the wisdom that came from the
widow’s two coins. God
only knows of giving. God is
not limited by questions that imply that strings are attached -- “What
value do I get in return?”
“Are these people going to be wise stewards of what I have given them?” God is not handicapped by needing to see results from any of us. When God loves, there are no requirements attached. In fact, God is incapable of doing anything that does not nurture, encourage and support his children. God cannot help the fact that countless numbers of us err on the side of caution in our giving. That is our choice. It seems that where our financial resources are concerned, a number of people are still engaged in that ancient tug-of-war. There was a pastor
in my past that stopped passing the offering plates as part of her order
of worship. She put those plates in the back of the sanctuary and told
her people that for the rest of her ministry with them, congregational
giving will be looked upon as their privilege to support the church’s
ministries. Money was never mentioned again during their worship
services. Every Sunday her
offering plates were overflowing.
Pastor Amalia Frank stepped out on faith with her congregation
and her people responded in full measure, pressed down and overflowing.
Amalia’s favorite saying was, “God is my source for everything.”
That is what she preached and that is what she lived. She had won
that tug-of-war in her life and had taught her congregation how to do the
same. The faith of the
widow in our lesson offers instruction to everyone.
I cannot think of a single
case in the 40 plus years of being a pastor where people failed to meet
all their financial obligations after winning their
tug-of-war.
That is the way faith works.
If faith did not work like this,
Jesus would never have used this widow as an illustration of giving.
Actually, the Master himself lived this way when he walked away
from his carpenter’s shop.
He told his listeners that he no longer had a place to call home.
(Matthew 8:20) In the Royal Gazette’s
Dear Annie column there was a
Thanksgiving Prayer that I want to use in closing:
We enter our church today, O Lord, humble, thankful and glad. First, we thank you for the great miracle of life, for the exaltation of being human and for the capacity to love. We thank you for joys both great and simple – for wonder, dreams and hope; for the newness of each day; for laughter, song and a merry heart; for compassion that waits within us ready to be kindled; for the patience of friends and the smiles from strangers; for the magnificence of the earth, the trees and the heavens, and the fruit that comes from all three; for the wisdom of our seniors; for the courage of the young; for the promise of all children; for the strength that comes when it is needed; for this church family united here today. May we and our children long remember that of those to whom much is given, much is required.
Amen. |