You may have heard about the man who was inquiring about the economy of the kingdom of heaven
to see what might be in it for him. He asked God, “How much is a penny worth in heaven?” God
replied, “A million dollars.”
Then the man asked, “OK, and how long is a minute in heaven?” God said, “A million years.” The
man replied, “OK… May I have a penny?” And God said, “Sure, in a minute.”
The motivations of the wayward human heart have a way of sometimes infecting even the highest of
human activities. For instance we can be tempted to use prayer, you know, talking with God, to try to
obtain things that perhaps are more self-centered than centered upon God and our neighbor. The
same holds true with something as honorable as Christian stewardship.
And frankly, some of this is understandable, considering that we’re given so many different and
conflicting messages about it. Because messages about giving and about being faithful stewards of
those things God has entrusted us with are often tainted by the “wisdom” of our culture, rather than
coming from a perspective a little more in line with Christ’s teachings and the practices of his early
followers. Even the scriptures can be misapplied, leading to some attitudes and actions that are off-
target.
In his thought-provoking book Three Streams, One River, Bishop Kelshaw points out some of these
common errors. I’ve taken the liberty of filtering these down to two messages that we often hear
these days from people entrusted with interpreting the scriptures for us with respect to stewardship. I’
d classify both of these under the broad category: “Close, but not quite.”
The first is the idea that we give to the kingdom in order not to incur, for lack of a better phrase, the
wrath of God. In other words, our motivation for giving comes from our fear of what God will either
think of us or do to us, in this life or the next, if we don’t lay down our greenbacks for the team. In a
way it can become kind of like a bribe to God, or a form of appeasement. At their worst, religious
organizations can act as kind of a holy toll booth to allow continued passage on the highway to
heaven, or at least the boulevard to blessing.
Now, I know that on the face of it that sounds a little absurd, but let me ask you this. Have you ever,
however briefly, entertained the thought that when something bad comes your way—some kind of
Murphy’s Law day or a random mishap—that just maybe it’s some kind of payback for some sin or
wrongdoing? (Would you admit it if you did occasionally felt this way?) I’ll admit to it. In fact I’ve
wondered from time to time whether this is something almost hard-wired into us, this idea of bad
fortune as cosmic payback—“instant karma” as John Lennon once called it. Do you remember the
character “Maude” on the old All in the Family TV series? Her favorite threat was, “God will get you
for that.”
It’s something that goes way back, and may even have something to do with those old pagan
religions that would offer various kinds of sacrifices to appease the angry and rather fickle gods in
their pantheons. Unfortunately, among those who would wish to part us from our money there are
those out there who are only too happy to manipulate these impulses. You know, subtle threats that
things might not go so well for you if you don’t ante up. My advice if you should be unfortunate
enough to be exposed to this kind of manipulation, say on a certain type of TV program, for
instance, is to promptly turn the thing off.
Because it’s not God’s nature to use extortion. Rather, God’s nature is such that he would sacrifice
all for the love of us. If His love were conditional on what we do or say, our little boats of spiritual
security would be pretty well sunk. It’s been said that a clear conscience is a sign of a faulty
memory. But St. Paul writes to his protégé, Timothy, “If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for he
cannot deny himself.” Do you hear that? In other words, it’s God’s very nature to be faithful,
because God is love, and His love is a free gift to us. We don’t have to “pay to play” as the saying
goes. Godly giving comes from some other motivation.
There’s a similar error that’s also found its way to well-meaning talks about Christian stewardship.
And that is the idea that we give in order to be blessed by God. It’s kind of the converse
manipulation to the one we just mentioned. The thinking goes something like this: “If I generously
give to God and His work, then He will be duty-bound to reward my giving with even greater
prosperity.” There are certain people claiming to be proponents of the Christian faith who take that
idea and run the whole field for a touchdown. From prayer-soaked “holy hankies” to promises of
prosperity, if we would just open our wallets and give to Pastor So-and-So’s ministry, God will sign
the check and FedEx it to our front door before we can say “prosperity gospel.”
You see, this is a situation in which God’s promises of faithfulness to us can be subtly manipulated
to appear more like an investment strategy or an insurance policy. It misrepresents the whole
motivation for giving. Even that oft-repeated morsel of truth
“you can’t outgive God” can be misused this way. The implication is that we can expect God to meet
terms we set for how He’s to dispense His blessings in response to our faithfulness. What he really
promises is to provide for our needs and to bless us. And he does both of these things, but it’s His
call as to when and how he does them. Giving to the kingdom of God should never be seen as a
way to ensure our own security, but should come from a different motivation entirely.
And this is what brings us to the reading from Acts that we heard a little while ago. If you care to turn
in your pew Bibles to Acts 4, verses 32-37, I’m going to refer to it. St. Luke doesn’t tell us where this
scenario takes place, but most everything leading up to it is in Jerusalem, not all that long after
Jesus’ Ascension. And this is key. Christ’s death, resurrection and ascension are fresh in people’s
minds. Peter and the other apostles have been ecstatically spreading the good news, the dream
come true that Jesus has defeated death itself.
And now he reports that “the whole group of believers were of one heart and soul, and no one
claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common.
With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great
grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands
or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet,
and it was distributed to each as any had need.”
Can you imagine this? For one remarkable, golden moment in history, the hearts of believers were
soaring on the wings of faith, hope, and charity, and propelled to love God and each other without
reservation or fear. Their sharing was utterly spontaneous.
I feel duty-bound to point out here that this sharing was not a result of legislation. OK? No one
called their local senator and lobbied them for a bill to redistribute everything, or to tax the heck out
of that group over there. Time and time again we’ve stumbled under the illusion that if we simply
enact the right laws or supply the proper structure, we’ll finally live in a utopia of charity and all will
be well. Marx thought he could politically engineer this to happen. Many of my hippie friends in the
1970’s tried vainly to achieve it.
But it’s motivation that makes all the difference in the world. And the motivation for the people in
Jerusalem in the heady time shortly after Jesus’ physical departure came from somewhere else. It
didn’t come from human structures. What it came from was the unthinkable realization that they were
loved without limit by a Lord who’d saved them from sin and death, who was even then on His way to
prepare a place for them in everlasting bliss, and who had poured out his Spirit upon them, writing
the law on their hearts and making it alive within each of them. To put it simply, their giving and
sharing were an act of pure, responsive worship.
Now, I want to point out something else in this passage. I wonder if you caught it. Right smack in the
middle of this narrative about sharing ownership and giving to the needy are these words (verse
33): “With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and
great grace was upon them all.” If this passage were a sandwich, the bread and butter are selfless
sharing, and the meat is the gospel of Jesus Christ. It’s a resurrection sandwich! The centerpiece
that gives it its flavor is the Word of God spoken, and the sweet bread that encloses it is the Word of
God acted upon. It’s an act of worship.
I’m wondering, what do you think of when you hear the word “worship?” Well, the Greek word for
worship is proskuneo, which literally means “to kiss toward.” I like that.
It’s not a trembling, fearful action intended to appease an angry God, or a calculated action
designed to earn approval, but it’s a grateful kiss blown toward the One who has demonstrated
incalculable, unrequitable love. And the grateful kiss we offer to the father of all blessing is our
tangible act of worship.
Or to bring it to the second person of the Trinity whom we honor today, Christ is King, but He’s a
different kind of king. As the old hymn says, “The King of love my shepherd is.” The believers
in Acts responded to our King from their hearts. This week we celebrate a holiday which, at its
historic core, tells a similar story. When the pilgrims sat down at the table with the Wampanoag
Indians in Massachusetts, it’s hard for me to imagine that the motivation for their sharing was
anything other than love and gratitude. It was all shared. Nothing was held back.
So I think the question for us this morning is this: What if we all lived and loved with this kind of
abandon? What if the message of redemption and provision and salvation and eternal life were as
immediate in our heads and hearts as it was for the early believers in Jerusalem? What if each of us
were so confident in God’s faithfulness, and so joyful in his generosity that we could do no differently
ourselves? That, I think, speaks to the heart of giving. Paul writes to the Corinthians: “Each person
should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God
loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all
times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.”
In Bishop Kelshaw’s words, “True worship produces large and generous hearts that glorify God in a
giving response.” This week as we bring to mind God’s blessings to us, may we respond to these
blessings with generous hearts. Amen.
to see what might be in it for him. He asked God, “How much is a penny worth in heaven?” God
replied, “A million dollars.”
Then the man asked, “OK, and how long is a minute in heaven?” God said, “A million years.” The
man replied, “OK… May I have a penny?” And God said, “Sure, in a minute.”
The motivations of the wayward human heart have a way of sometimes infecting even the highest of
human activities. For instance we can be tempted to use prayer, you know, talking with God, to try to
obtain things that perhaps are more self-centered than centered upon God and our neighbor. The
same holds true with something as honorable as Christian stewardship.
And frankly, some of this is understandable, considering that we’re given so many different and
conflicting messages about it. Because messages about giving and about being faithful stewards of
those things God has entrusted us with are often tainted by the “wisdom” of our culture, rather than
coming from a perspective a little more in line with Christ’s teachings and the practices of his early
followers. Even the scriptures can be misapplied, leading to some attitudes and actions that are off-
target.
In his thought-provoking book Three Streams, One River, Bishop Kelshaw points out some of these
common errors. I’ve taken the liberty of filtering these down to two messages that we often hear
these days from people entrusted with interpreting the scriptures for us with respect to stewardship. I’
d classify both of these under the broad category: “Close, but not quite.”
The first is the idea that we give to the kingdom in order not to incur, for lack of a better phrase, the
wrath of God. In other words, our motivation for giving comes from our fear of what God will either
think of us or do to us, in this life or the next, if we don’t lay down our greenbacks for the team. In a
way it can become kind of like a bribe to God, or a form of appeasement. At their worst, religious
organizations can act as kind of a holy toll booth to allow continued passage on the highway to
heaven, or at least the boulevard to blessing.
Now, I know that on the face of it that sounds a little absurd, but let me ask you this. Have you ever,
however briefly, entertained the thought that when something bad comes your way—some kind of
Murphy’s Law day or a random mishap—that just maybe it’s some kind of payback for some sin or
wrongdoing? (Would you admit it if you did occasionally felt this way?) I’ll admit to it. In fact I’ve
wondered from time to time whether this is something almost hard-wired into us, this idea of bad
fortune as cosmic payback—“instant karma” as John Lennon once called it. Do you remember the
character “Maude” on the old All in the Family TV series? Her favorite threat was, “God will get you
for that.”
It’s something that goes way back, and may even have something to do with those old pagan
religions that would offer various kinds of sacrifices to appease the angry and rather fickle gods in
their pantheons. Unfortunately, among those who would wish to part us from our money there are
those out there who are only too happy to manipulate these impulses. You know, subtle threats that
things might not go so well for you if you don’t ante up. My advice if you should be unfortunate
enough to be exposed to this kind of manipulation, say on a certain type of TV program, for
instance, is to promptly turn the thing off.
Because it’s not God’s nature to use extortion. Rather, God’s nature is such that he would sacrifice
all for the love of us. If His love were conditional on what we do or say, our little boats of spiritual
security would be pretty well sunk. It’s been said that a clear conscience is a sign of a faulty
memory. But St. Paul writes to his protégé, Timothy, “If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for he
cannot deny himself.” Do you hear that? In other words, it’s God’s very nature to be faithful,
because God is love, and His love is a free gift to us. We don’t have to “pay to play” as the saying
goes. Godly giving comes from some other motivation.
There’s a similar error that’s also found its way to well-meaning talks about Christian stewardship.
And that is the idea that we give in order to be blessed by God. It’s kind of the converse
manipulation to the one we just mentioned. The thinking goes something like this: “If I generously
give to God and His work, then He will be duty-bound to reward my giving with even greater
prosperity.” There are certain people claiming to be proponents of the Christian faith who take that
idea and run the whole field for a touchdown. From prayer-soaked “holy hankies” to promises of
prosperity, if we would just open our wallets and give to Pastor So-and-So’s ministry, God will sign
the check and FedEx it to our front door before we can say “prosperity gospel.”
You see, this is a situation in which God’s promises of faithfulness to us can be subtly manipulated
to appear more like an investment strategy or an insurance policy. It misrepresents the whole
motivation for giving. Even that oft-repeated morsel of truth
“you can’t outgive God” can be misused this way. The implication is that we can expect God to meet
terms we set for how He’s to dispense His blessings in response to our faithfulness. What he really
promises is to provide for our needs and to bless us. And he does both of these things, but it’s His
call as to when and how he does them. Giving to the kingdom of God should never be seen as a
way to ensure our own security, but should come from a different motivation entirely.
And this is what brings us to the reading from Acts that we heard a little while ago. If you care to turn
in your pew Bibles to Acts 4, verses 32-37, I’m going to refer to it. St. Luke doesn’t tell us where this
scenario takes place, but most everything leading up to it is in Jerusalem, not all that long after
Jesus’ Ascension. And this is key. Christ’s death, resurrection and ascension are fresh in people’s
minds. Peter and the other apostles have been ecstatically spreading the good news, the dream
come true that Jesus has defeated death itself.
And now he reports that “the whole group of believers were of one heart and soul, and no one
claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common.
With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great
grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands
or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet,
and it was distributed to each as any had need.”
Can you imagine this? For one remarkable, golden moment in history, the hearts of believers were
soaring on the wings of faith, hope, and charity, and propelled to love God and each other without
reservation or fear. Their sharing was utterly spontaneous.
I feel duty-bound to point out here that this sharing was not a result of legislation. OK? No one
called their local senator and lobbied them for a bill to redistribute everything, or to tax the heck out
of that group over there. Time and time again we’ve stumbled under the illusion that if we simply
enact the right laws or supply the proper structure, we’ll finally live in a utopia of charity and all will
be well. Marx thought he could politically engineer this to happen. Many of my hippie friends in the
1970’s tried vainly to achieve it.
But it’s motivation that makes all the difference in the world. And the motivation for the people in
Jerusalem in the heady time shortly after Jesus’ physical departure came from somewhere else. It
didn’t come from human structures. What it came from was the unthinkable realization that they were
loved without limit by a Lord who’d saved them from sin and death, who was even then on His way to
prepare a place for them in everlasting bliss, and who had poured out his Spirit upon them, writing
the law on their hearts and making it alive within each of them. To put it simply, their giving and
sharing were an act of pure, responsive worship.
Now, I want to point out something else in this passage. I wonder if you caught it. Right smack in the
middle of this narrative about sharing ownership and giving to the needy are these words (verse
33): “With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and
great grace was upon them all.” If this passage were a sandwich, the bread and butter are selfless
sharing, and the meat is the gospel of Jesus Christ. It’s a resurrection sandwich! The centerpiece
that gives it its flavor is the Word of God spoken, and the sweet bread that encloses it is the Word of
God acted upon. It’s an act of worship.
I’m wondering, what do you think of when you hear the word “worship?” Well, the Greek word for
worship is proskuneo, which literally means “to kiss toward.” I like that.
It’s not a trembling, fearful action intended to appease an angry God, or a calculated action
designed to earn approval, but it’s a grateful kiss blown toward the One who has demonstrated
incalculable, unrequitable love. And the grateful kiss we offer to the father of all blessing is our
tangible act of worship.
Or to bring it to the second person of the Trinity whom we honor today, Christ is King, but He’s a
different kind of king. As the old hymn says, “The King of love my shepherd is.” The believers
in Acts responded to our King from their hearts. This week we celebrate a holiday which, at its
historic core, tells a similar story. When the pilgrims sat down at the table with the Wampanoag
Indians in Massachusetts, it’s hard for me to imagine that the motivation for their sharing was
anything other than love and gratitude. It was all shared. Nothing was held back.
So I think the question for us this morning is this: What if we all lived and loved with this kind of
abandon? What if the message of redemption and provision and salvation and eternal life were as
immediate in our heads and hearts as it was for the early believers in Jerusalem? What if each of us
were so confident in God’s faithfulness, and so joyful in his generosity that we could do no differently
ourselves? That, I think, speaks to the heart of giving. Paul writes to the Corinthians: “Each person
should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God
loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all
times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.”
In Bishop Kelshaw’s words, “True worship produces large and generous hearts that glorify God in a
giving response.” This week as we bring to mind God’s blessings to us, may we respond to these
blessings with generous hearts. Amen.
An Act of Worship
Christ the King Sunday, 2009
Christ the King Sunday, 2009
November 22, 2009
The Rev. Daniel Tuton
The Rev. Daniel Tuton
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