September 16, 2012 | 9:30 and 11:00 a.m.

Restrain That Giver!

K.C. Ptomey Jr.
Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary

Psalm 19
Exodus 35:4–9, 20–24; 36:2–7
2 Corinthians 8:1–9

Some think of a Christian as one who necessarily believes certain things. . . . Some think of a Christian as one who necessarily does certain things such as going to church, getting baptized, giving up liquor and tobacco, reading the Bible. . . . Some think of a Christian as just a nice guy. . . . A Christian is one who is on the way, though not necessarily very far along it, and who has at least some dim and half-baked idea of whom to thank.

Frederick Buechner

Our text records that Moses calls for an offering (Exodus 35:5). Now, it is important to note that Moses does not require people to give. Rather, he says, “Let whoever is of a generous heart bring the Lord’s offering.” The storyteller makes it very clear that the offering is purely a matter of each individual’s willing response. “All who were of a willing heart” is the turn of phrase that is used. “All who are of a willing heart.”

This story, of course, is an annual campaign committee’s dream-come-true. The people are willing—more than willing, indeed enthusiastic about giving. They cannot restrain themselves. They want to give. They can’t wait to give. They’re dying to give. They love to give.

The people were so willing, so overwhelmed with generosity, that—can you believe it? I hardly can—Moses had to ask them to quit giving!

It has been forty-five years since my ordination to ministry. During forty-one of those years I was in the pulpit almost every Sunday. But never once did I face the necessity of preaching a sermon in which I sought to restrain people from giving. In your history four outstanding preachers have occupied this pulpit: John Timothy Stone, Harrison Ray Anderson, Elam Davies, and John Buchanan. I wonder, did any of them feel compelled to restrain givers at Fourth Church?

Moses’ sermon is perhaps the most unique stewardship message in the Bible, maybe in all of church history! His punch line is bizarre: “No man or woman is to make anything else as an offering.”

I read this sermon of Moses’ and, weary after forty-one years of annual campaigns, I think to myself, wouldn’t it be wonderful?! Wouldn’t it be wonderful to find it necessary to ask people to quit giving? I have never known a congregation in which giving got out of hand.

But wouldn’t it be wonderful?!

So the question: What is the motivation for such extravagant generosity? The text doesn’t explain. But here is what we know: The nation was in Egypt in slavery. The people were oppressed and beaten down. They were suffering. They cried out to God and God heard them and delivered them (Exodus 3:7). Once free and out in the desert, they would have wandered aimlessly but for a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night to guide them (Exodus 13:21). When they were thirsty, God gave water. When they were hungry, there was manna aplenty (Exodus 16:13–21; 17:1–7). But there is more: When the people sinned by losing faith in Moses and in God and made for themselves an idol to worship, God was gracious and forgave them (Exodus 32:11–14).

God gave them, too, the Ten Commandments. Not restrictions or oppressive rules, but guidance as to how as recipients of God’s grace they could live fully and joyfully in community (Exodus 20:1 ff.).

Simply stated, I think that the generosity of these people was out of hand because they experienced grace and goodness from God that was out of hand, that was out of all proportion to what they deserved. Look at them: it’s plain to see they are filled with gratitude, so they bring their generous offerings. Look at them: their lives reflect the love of God.

Awareness, deep awareness, of the abundant and undeserved goodness of God is the only thing I know that can elicit unrestrained generosity. Slick stewardship messages won’t do it. Guilt won’t do it. Fancy charts and graphs won’t do it. Letters and emails and tweets and texts and Facebook pages won’t do it. And I am relatively certain that the soaring message of a guest preacher from Texas with a funny accent won’t do it.

Awareness, deep awareness, of the abundant and undeserved goodness of God. That’ll do it! Did you hear what Paul said to the Corinthian congregation about the Macedonian Christians from whom he was soliciting an offering? He said they were poor but were begging him to allow them to participate in the offering he is gathering for the Christians in Jerusalem. He said that the Macedonians count it a privilege to be able to give.

Such an attitude strikes us as odd, does it not? Most of us dread annual church pleas for money. So do pastors. As shepherds of the flock we would rather care for the flock than fleece the flock.

I can honestly tell you that in all my years of ministry, I have known few people who begged for the privilege of giving to the church, nor have I found it necessary to restrain anyone’s giving. But wouldn’t that be wonderful?

What does Paul say motivates the Macedonians? He says it is “the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, so that by his poverty we might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9–10).

Moses and Paul make the same case. Though they lived hundreds of years apart and ministered in radically different circumstances, their appeals are identical. They do not cajole. They do not beg. They do not promise that if we give we will be blessed. They do not threaten that if we do not give generously we will break out in painful sores, suffer a reversal in the stock market, or go to hell in a hand basket. They simply say, “Look at how generous God has been to you. Then let your giving reflect the love of God.”

Count your blessings. That simple exercise will provoke generosity. Step outside into this beautiful fall morning. Take a deep breath, feel the cool breeze and the warm sunshine on your face. That’ll do it. Look into the faces of your children and grandchildren. Take the hand of your spouse or partner and savor the joy of shared life and love. That’ll do it.

Walk through this building. Bask in the beauty of this sanctuary. That’ll do it. Think of the babies you have baptized here, the weddings you’ve celebrated, the services of Witness to the Resurrection in which you have given thanks that God in Christ has conquered death. That’ll do it. Think of the ways in which you have been challenged and inspired, comforted and uplifted, by the sermons that you have heard from this pulpit. That’ll do it. Remember all the times you’ve gathered here at the Lord’s Table and found yourself nourished with the Bread of Life. That’ll do it.

Stand in the middle of your wonderful new Gratz Center and envision the fellowship this space will engender. Think of the ministries this building will house, think of the lives you will touch and transform, particularly the children who fill your halls every weekday. That’ll do it. Rejoice in your many ministries to this city and the privilege that is yours to be part of a congregation that is truly a light in the city. That’ll do it!

Ponder the deep satisfaction that comes from being part of a congregation in which people care for one another and for God’s children of all ages to whom you reach out beyond these four walls with ministries too many to number. That’ll do it!

Consider how generous God has been to you and to this congregation and your generosity will overflow in a reflection of God’s love, indeed, it will make a Christian out of you.

Fred Buechner puts it rather well, I think.

Some think of a Christian as one who necessarily believes certain things. . . . Some think of a Christian as one who necessarily does certain things. Such as going to church. Getting baptized. Giving up liquor and tobacco. Reading the Bible. . . . Some think of a Christian as just a nice guy. . . . A Christian is one who is on the way, though not necessarily very far along it, and who has at least some dim and half-baked idea of whom to thank.

Count your blessings, Fourth Presbyterian Church, and remember whom to thank.

Notes
Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC, p. 14, emphasis mine. Thanks to Patrick Willson, who pointed me toward this quote in his sermon “Skin-Deep,” preached at Shades Valley Presbyterian Church, Birmingham, Alabama, on October 15, 1989.