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Trinity United Church of
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© Rev. Diane Kay Martin The ‘T’ Word Genesis 14.14, 16, 18-20 Malachi 3.10-11 Luke 11.42 -------------------------------- It’s a frustrating thing to be misinterpreted. Every time we open our mouths or put something in print, we run the risk of being misinterpreted, and once in a while it happens. Here’s an example: Every Saturday, I email my sermon manuscript to about three dozen people—to colleagues, to friends, to family members, to church members if I know they won’t be in church the next day. A couple of weeks ago, a fellow pastor and I decided it would be interesting to exchange sermons each week, to see how God led the other to preach on the text. So I sent her a sermon, and she read it, and she sent me a sermon, and I read it, and we exchanged comments on each other’s sermons, and everything was good. Two weeks ago, my friend sent me her sermon, but it arrived while I was on vacation, so I hadn’t had a chance to read it when I got around to sending my sermon last Saturday, for last Sunday. Now, I usually put a little note on the email to which I attach my sermon, and last week my note read, “Too long. Too wordy. Too tired. Diane.” So the next day, I opened my email, and there was a message from my dear fellow pastor. She had written, “I’m puzzled. The people really seemed to like it. But maybe it was the way I preached it. But yes, it was a bit long.” It took me a few moments to realize that my friend thought my self-criticism was a brutal critique of her sermon! “Too long. Too wordy. Too tired.”[1] Immediately I called her and apologized profusely. I asked her if my words had caused her much agony, and she admitted that they had. Fortunately though, she hadn’t read my email until Sunday afternoon, after she had preached another fine sermon, so she didn’t spend the morning second-guessing that one, too. We noted how ironic it was that my own self-criticism had ended up hurting her. I told her, “Apparently you don’t know me well enough yet to know that I would far rather beat up on myself than on someone else.” She forgave me, and we’re still friends (although she hasn’t sent me another sermon yet… hmmm…). Yes, it’s a frustrating thing to be misinterpreted. But every time we put a thought in words, we run that risk. Like preaching a sermon on “The ‘M’ Word” (money), as I did last week. Someone visiting the church may think, “Oh, great, another church where all they talk about it money.” No! That was my first sermon on money! And I did it because I was asked to, by the Stewardship Committee! We don’t talk about money every week—do we? And those numbers on the back of the bulletin—I’ve read advice from church-growth experts: “Don’t print the amount of your offering in your bulletin, because visitors will think you’re a sinking ship when the offering doesn’t meet the budget needs, and they won’t come back.” But, no! Maybe it was just a low week, or maybe we’re spending below budget. But seeing those negative dollar signs puts people in a panic. And what about that statement we’ve been publishing in the Treasurer’s Report in the newsletter: “Amount needed to meet budget: $11.42 per member each week.” People may read that and think, “Oh, great, now they’re charging dues, or telling us what we have to give, like some other places do. I guess if it’s going to be like that, I can’t afford to go to church.” No! We’re just giving you a ballpark idea of what’s needed to keep this place going from week to week. Now, I’m going out on a limb by preaching a sermon on “The ‘T’ Word.” It’s easy to be misinterpreted. But maybe the “T” word isn’t as dangerous as the “M” word, because some of you don’t know what the word “tithe” means. Well, after today, you will, but hear me right now, right up front: I am not telling you that you should be giving ten percent of your income to the church! Did you get that? I am not telling you to give ten percent of your income to the church! Why? For a number of theological and just plain logical reasons, I am not. First: We have to take those verses in context. When the tithe was instituted—way back when Abraham[2] gave ten percent of the spoils of battle to the priest Melchizedek, and for generations afterward—there was no “separation of church and state” in Israel. Other nations had kings, but Israel had no formal government. There were judges who heard disagreements and made decisions between people to keep the peace, but there was no government. That means that everything the government does now, the Temple did, including caring for the poor and the orphans and the widows and the sick people. The Temple was the welfare system, Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, food stamps, the WIC program[3] … Now, if they did all of that, plus keep the Temple running[4] and have some leftover just to enjoy one another’s company in a great big potluck meal every now and then[5]—for ten percent of the people’s income—I’d say they were doing pretty doggone well, wouldn’t you? Compare ten percent, for starters, to just what you pay in incomes taxes today. Add in the amount withheld from your wages for Social Security, and all those hidden taxes like hunting licenses and driver’s licenses and the registration fee on your cars. Add to that whatever you give to your church and other charities, plus whatever amount you might spend sharing dinner with family and friends, just to enjoy their company—because that was one of the prescribed uses of the tithe, too—and you’ve got a number that’s a lot higher than ten percent of your income. Now, what’s the second reason I am not telling you that you should be tithing (giving ten percent of your income) to the church? Why did the prophet Malachi, in last week’s Scripture reading, instruct the people to “bring the full tithe into the storehouse”? “So that there may be food in my house,” says the Lord. Food … for the poor. And why, in today’s Gospel reading, does Jesus criticize the Pharisees because they so carefully measured out everything they had—even the little herbs that grew in their window boxes!—to pay their tithes? Because, in Jesus’ words, they “neglect justice and the love of God.” They aren’t taking care of the less fortunate ones among them! In fact, they’re loading down the poor people with expenses,[6] and do you know what ten percent of just a little bit is? It’s a whole lot, when a little bit is all you’ve got. I know. I’ve been there. The blessings of the church are to be flowing out, to the less fortunate ones; not the other way around! For the church to burden those who already carry such heavy burdens by demanding a certain level of giving from them would be a sin! This church will never do that! Never! So, forget ten percent. That’s right. I said forget the tithe. You’re already giving more than that, anyway, remember?—in taxes and offerings and charitable gifts. God and Uncle Sam and the Red Cross are grateful. What should you give to God? You give whatever God tells you to give, because once your gift is in God’s hands, it takes on a whole new set of proportions. Hear the story of “Fifty-Seven Cents”:
So give God your time; give God your talents; give God your treasure—whether a little or a lot; but be faithful to God, because God is faithful. “For God so loved the world that he gave… he gave… he gave his only Son, who loved us so much that he gave … he gave … he gave his very life to save our very lives.”[8] God is still speaking. Listen to God. Ask God how much you should give to the church—put it in terms of a percentage or a weekly or monthly amount of money, or in terms of hours per week or month—and God will guide you. God will guide you. If you’re ill, or you’ve been out of work, maybe that amount is zero. Put an empty offering envelope in the plate if you’re embarrassed about giving nothing—but, for God’s sake and yours, don’t stay out of church because you can’t give! On the other hand, there are those of us who can afford to give generously. May I be frank? For my first several months here, I was putting in the offering each week a check that amounted to about five percent of my gross salary plus housing allowance. That felt okay. It was what God had spoken to me to do, and I was being faithful in doing it. But when the Stewardship Committee asked me to preach this sermon series on money, I knew the subject of the tithe would come up. It had to. And I decided that if I was going to preach on tithing, I had better be tithing myself. So I increased my giving to 10 percent of my gross pay, and do you know what? For me, right now, it doesn’t feel much different. Now, for some people, it would. And at other times in my life, it would have made a huge dent in my personal finances. But right now, I can do this. And others of you can, too. And if God speaks to you to do something like this—to help pick up the slack for those who can’t give as much as they would like to give—then I challenge you to be obedient to God. But please, don’t go away from here today thinking you can’t come back because you can’t give. We need you, not your money. Others can give money; only you can give you. Amen.
[1] Oops! This one is even longer!
[2] He wasn’t even Abraham yet. He was still Abram.
[3] Deuteronomy 14.27-29; 26.12-13.
[4] Deuteronomy 14.27-29; 26.12-13.
[5] Deuteronomy 12.10-18; 14.22-26.
[6] Luke 11.46.
[7] From Dr. Russell H. Conwell’s book, "Acres of Diamonds." Conwell
was the little girl’s pastor.
[8] Adapted from John 3.16 to serve as our Call to Worship today.
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Copyright © 2005
Trinity United Church of Christ
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