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©
Rev. Diane Kay Martin
Trinity UCC ¨ La Crosse, WI
September 11, 2005
The ‘M’ Word
Malachi 3.10-12
10 Bring
the full tithe into the storehouse, so that there may be food in my house, and
thus put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts; see if I will not open the
windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing.
11 I will
rebuke the locust for you, so that it will not destroy the produce of your soil;
and your vine in the field shall not be barren, says the Lord of hosts.
12 Then
all nations will count you happy, for you will be a land of delight, says the
Lord of hosts.
So many times, a crisis brings us to a better
place. Right now, the eyes of this nation have been glued to CNN for its
constant coverage of the devastating aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. This is
truly a national crisis, and we must all work together if a crisis of these
proportions is going to bring us to a better place.
In many ways, Hurricane Katrina is even bigger than 9/11,
which for four years (today) has served as a national reminder that the world
can indeed be a very dangerous place. Katrina is more frightening than 9/11,
because we have no human enemy at whom to shake our fists and shout threats of
retaliation. No vengeance can be had against a tropical storm.
Still, so many times, a crisis brings us to a better
place.
Other, smaller crises have hit us this week—some
related to Katrina and some not. Friends and family members have been deployed
to serve in the flood-ravaged gulf region; others we love have lost most of
their earthly belongings in the same floodwaters. More locally, our hearts break
when tragedy befalls a young family and steals from them their father, a
promising employee of a faithful member of this congregation. Other hearts are
stretched to new limits—my own included—when we send those we love off to pursue
worthy educational goals. We struggle with our own selfishness, reminded by the
constant news coverage of the flood-ravaged South that we have little to grieve;
yet we miss so deeply the ones whose daily presence we can no longer experience.
So many times, a crisis brings us to a better
place. So it has been through the history of the world. So it has been through
the history of faith. So it has been through the history of this congregation.
Let’s talk about the elephant that’s in this
room. Varying opinions exist, and I respect them, so I will choose my words very
carefully. This congregation has a lot of pain around the topic of money. Money.
The ‘M’ word. It probably goes back a lot farther than that tragic turn of
events four years ago—Trinity’s own 9/11, when the Twin Towers of differing
views about how to use a certain very generous financial gift nearly brought
this whole ministry crashing in on itself. This congregation’s pain around the
topic of money probably goes back a lot farther than that, but that was clearly
the watershed moment. Clearly the defining moment—the one that is etched in the
collective memory of this people of God—and no healing will take place if the
flesh closes in over the poison that remains in the wound. But so many times, a
crisis brings us to a better place.
When I met with the Stewardship Committee
several months ago, we talked about this wound, and we pondered ways to help the
people of Trinity have a more positive view of stewardship. There are
lovely ways to think of it. We found one design of offering envelope that says,
“Lord, I am overwhelmed by your blessings in my life and the bounty of your
generosity, so I joyfully give of my firstfruits.” What a wonderful, positive
way to think about giving!
Harking back to my Pentecostal days—when giving was a frequently-preached-on
topic—I shared with the Stewardship Committee one of my favorite Scriptures
about money. I recited it from the King James Version, because that’s the
version a lot of Pentecostal preachers like to use, and I, having sat through
three 45-minute sermons each week for some thirteen years, had
heard a lot of sermons on money. So I knew this well-used Scripture
pretty much by heart: “Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, … and
prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the
windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room
enough to receive it.”
I told the committee that this is the only place in the entire Bible
where God says, “Test me!” “Prove me now herewith!” In the New International
Version, it’s “Test me in this.” In the New Revised Standard Version (my
favorite version), it’s “Put me to the test!” God says, “Test me! Try me! You
give, you bring your tithe, and I guarantee I will pour out a blessing that’s
more than you have room for!”
The women on the Stewardship Committee had never heard of this verse! They were
excited to hear about this extravagant promise God made to the people of Israel
and, by extension, to us. That’s when they had the idea for me to preach a
series of sermons on money: If they didn’t know about this basic verse,
then it was pretty safe to assume that many of you didn’t, either; and if
you didn’t know about this verse, then it was pretty safe to assume that
you may not know about many of the other beautiful, positive, healing
scriptures on the topic of money.
Gulp! A series of sermons on money! No mainline pastor likes to preach about
money, because no mainline congregation likes to hear about money. But I
said I would, and here we are.
So many times, a crisis brings us to a better place. Here we are, talking openly
about the elephant that’s been haunting this room for more than four years—your
pain around the topic of money—and we’re preparing to move forward, together,
into the next chapter of the wonderful autobiography that we, as a people of
faith, are engraving on the walls of heaven. What an exciting watershed moment
this may be for this congregation!
The people of Israel needed a watershed moment, too. They were in a spiritual
crisis. That’s why God sent the Hebrew prophet Malachi to warn them that they
had strayed from God’s commands. God is really pretty angry with the people of
Israel in the book of Malachi because of their unfaithfulness. They were
worshiping other gods; they were cheating on their temple taxes; they were
cheating in their marriages; there was a general attitude of cynicism and
skepticism regarding the whole enterprise called religion.
What was God’s first clue that the people were being unfaithful? Their giving!
They started giving God their leftovers! They knew they were expected to
give the best calf of the herd, but they brought in a blind one or a crippled
one instead. They didn’t give God their very best; they kept it for themselves.
In Malachi, one whole chapter addresses the priestly class—the
ministers—scolding them for abusing their power and privilege. The other
chapters are addressed to the people as a whole, but the entire book of Malachi
is an exhortation to return to faithfulness—faithfulness to God;
faithfulness to the less fortunate;
faithfulness to each other.
God gives
us the example for faithfulness. God’s response to loving is to give. “For
God so loved the world … that he gave … his only begotten son.”
God loved us so much that he gave his son—his son Jesus—who loved us so much
that he gave his very life, to save our very lives! It is God’s nature
to give, and what God wants to see in us, in response to that love—is joyous
giving in return.
In Malachi,
God says, “Let’s get back to the way we set things up in the first place: I love
you. I provide for you. You love me. In gratitude, you give back a portion of
what I have given you. Some of what you give will go to the Temple, to feed the
priests.
Some of it you will eat yourselves, together, in my presence, as a celebration
of the relationships you share.
The rest of it will go out—to the widow, the orphan, the foreigner—the
people who are marginalized by society or haven’t had a fair shake in life
(victims of hurricanes and tsunamis, for example).”
God says,
“Let’s get back to that way of doing things. Let’s let this crisis bring
us to a better place. I tell you what: If you’ll do your part, I’ll go above and
beyond in doing mine. I’ll pour you out a blessing so rich that you won’t know
what to do with it! I mean it—put me to the test!”
And it’s as if God wants to
“one-up” us in generosity. “Oh, yeah?” he says. “I’ll do you one better. If
you’re faithful to me, ‘I will rebuke the locust for you, so that it will not
destroy the produce of your soil; and your vine in the field shall not be
barren, says the Lord of hosts. … For you who revere my name the sun of
righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping
like calves from the stall.’
Go ahead. Put me to the
test,” God says.
“For God so loved the
world that he gave …” He gave… These days, when I look at my back yard, I
see God giving again. It looks like God has “opened the windows of heaven,
and poured us out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive
it.” You see, last year, when we bought our house, there was a compost pile
in the back yard. This spring, Nathan tilled it under and planted grass there.
The grass grew beautifully. I took an antique cast iron water pump that I had
been saving until I moved somewhere “permanent,” and I set it in the spot where
the compost pile had been. It looked great. Then one day, we noticed some little
sprouts. Cute little sprouts with two leaves. “Let’s let them grow,” I suggested
to Nathan. “Let’s just see what they are.”
Well, remember that part about “your vine in the field shall not be barren”?
God is pouring out a blessing that we don’t have room to receive, because for
twenty feet in each direction from that cast iron water pump is the biggest,
most bountiful vine you’ve ever seen. You’ll see that vine if you come over for
my Open House in two weeks. That vine is loaded with pumpkins, and
zucchini, and watermelons, and butternut squash, and acorn squash, and—does
anybody need some squash?
A friend of mine, a Pentecostal preacher, wrote this to me a couple of months
ago: “We are never more like God the Father than when we are giving. We are
never more like God the Son than when we are being obedient. And, my dear
sister, we are never more like the Holy Spirit than when we are prompting God’s
people to love and obedience.”
Preach it, brother. Amen.
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