Sacrifice of Praise and Thanksgiving

Ordinary Time XXXII; November 12, 2006

Mark 12:38-44

I hope, I truly hope, that this story showing up today is not a case of the committee that designed the lectionary saying, “Hey! Let’s put this story on the Sunday that preachers normally need to talk about stewardship!” It does follow naturally from last week’s reading about the greatest commandment, so I’m sure it is simply here due to sequence.

I warn you that I am going to talk about stewardship, sort of, although I am not going to tell you how much money to give to your church. We’re going beyond money here.

The story shows us that at root the matter of giving time, energy, money or anything else is a question of attitude. This story contrasts two attitudes; I’m going to add a third. One attitude is the thirst for power and prestige. Jesus is pretty scornful of those who want to be admired for any reason, whether it’s because they give a lot of money to the Temple or because they are learned and get to wear fancy robes and be called “Doctor.” He almost sounds like a politician attacking his opponent when he says that the scribes prey upon widows; maybe some of them did. Sounds like the TV evangelists who get old women to send them checks in order to be sanctified prayer partners, and the like. Yet I have heard of Presbyterian ministers who liked to show a lot of attention to widows in hopes the dears would remember them in their wills. Personal request: don’t remember me or any other pastor in your will. Remember your church in your will.

Then after Jesus’ attack on the scribes, we get a look at the folks who give a lot of money to the Temple. I was thinking of them this week and realized that I have been very blessed to have been spared the self-important types who give a lot. In Seminary they told us to beware of the well-off church member who throws his (it’s usually a man) financial weight around: “Do what I say or I’ll take my pledge elsewhere.” They warned us, but they didn’t teach us any techniques for dealing with them. I realized that every church where I have been pastor or associate pastor has had well-to-do people who provided a large portion of the church’s income. All of them have had a good attitude about it and simply seen it as their responsibility and have not used their financial power to force their way. For that I give thanks. Jesus is clearly critical of those who use their money or their position to serve their own egos.

Although the Gospel does not mention it, I need to mention a second attitude that is a problem for us and we need to watch out for. It is easy to think of giving to the Church as a way of supporting the institution. In other words, you and I could think of our pledge as our fair share of helping to pay the staff’s salaries and the gas and electric bills, as well as everything else that keeps an outfit like this going. The thirteen collection boxes at the Temple, where the widow dropped her tiny bit of money, were gathering funds to keep the institution going. But that clearly was not what was in her head, or she would not have been so generous.

It is almost a pity that the family of Christ has become an institution, with buildings and utility bills and lawns to be mowed and roofs to be maintained, and with staff to be paid. In my dream-world, the Church would have no buildings, but would meet in homes or offices or other spaces, and would have no paid staff: people like me would have other jobs to pay our bills. We would not need regional and national offices, and the elders of the Church would dedicate themselves to leading worship and prayer, rather than overseeing budgets and programs. The Church would not be an institution in my dream-world.

People being what we are, though, the Church would not have been able to sustain itself if it had not become an institution with buildings and organization and staff. That is simply how human beings cause positive things to be maintained: by creating institutions. God uses our human nature to spread the Gospel and our nature is to create institutions and the mechanisms that maintain them. So it is inevitable that money you give will go to sustain an institution; the two things you can do are to make it the best institution possible, and to change your attitude about giving.

So, having dismissed two possible attitudes – give to make yourself powerful, and give to support the institution – I commend to you and me the attitude the Bible commends: give because you love God. Jesus does not talk about the widow’s attitude, but calls attention to what she does. But think about it: why else would she give so extravagantly? You and I cannot give like that to pay an institution’s utility bills, but we can give like that because we love God.

You know what our pagan and Jewish ancestors used to do when they worshiped, don’t you? They offered sacrifices. They would bring the best of their grain, or a bull from the herd or a lamb from the flock, or whatever they had, and offer it on an altar as a sacrifice. We don’t use the word “sacrifice” in worship much any more, except when we have communion, and the minister says in the prayer, “We offer you this our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving.”

Those who love God really have only one thing to offer God: a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. Sometimes it is money; sometimes it is worship; sometimes it is time itself. The quality of your relationship with God needs to involve a sense of sacrifice. Note that this is not a set amount: so many dollars, so many hours, so much sweat equity. There is no admission fee to the Kingdom of Heaven. No admission fee that can be measured, that is. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.” That’s an admission fee we can all pay.

Life with God involves sacrifice and worship, for example, is a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. Partly, of course, I mean what immediately comes to your mind: there are indeed other, more productive and possibly more interesting things you could be doing at 11:00 on a Sunday morning. There are other elements of sacrifice to worship: if you are a parent and you have to work at getting children ready to come, that is a sacrifice. You could take the easy way out and not come or not bring the children, but then you would be failing to sacrifice and you would not be true to a relationship with God. Perhaps what we do in worship seems strange to you and you need to work at understanding it; if everything is comfortable, then it is not a sacrifice. Perhaps you do not consider yourself a singer and to participate in the hymns is a sacrifice; make the sacrifice. We are here to offer our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving to the One we love.

With respect to money, I will not use the overdone “Give until it hurts.” I will say this, however: if your giving does not feel like a sacrifice, then you are not using your money as a way of expressing your love for God.

In some respect, every sermon should bring us back to the Cross, and so I do not mean this as a parting shot, but rather to fix our attention where it needs to be. In order to establish a relationship with us, what did Jesus give? Did he not give his life? Did he not make the full and perfect sacrifice on the Cross? Can you and I not offer him a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, even if the only means we have to do it is his fragile, institutionalized and imperfect Church?

The concluding prayer is by Francis Xavier and it expresses what needs to be said.

My God: I love Thee, not with hope of gaining aught, not seeking a reward, but as Thou Thyself hast loved me, O ever-loving Lord.

Thou, O my Jesus, didst embrace my sinful soul upon the Tree, for me endured the pain, disgrace, the nails, the spear, the mockery, and griefs and torments numberless, the sweat of agony, even death itself; and all for one who was Thine enemy.

Then why, O blessed Jesus Christ, should I not love Thee well? Not for the sake of winning heaven, nor of escaping hell.

Not for hope of earth’s award Thy praises will I sing, but solely that Thou art my God and my eternal King.

Robert A. Keefer

Westminster Presbyterian Church

Clarinda, Iowa