"Cheerful Giving"

Dr. George R. Sinclair, Jr.
Pastor

November 4, 2007

“God loves a cheerful giver.”

             I’ve heard that all of my life; haven’t you, “God loves a cheerful giver?”  I’m beginning to understand that about stewardship. Stewardship really is about joy. Stewardship grows out of a joyful response to God’s goodness, God’s abundance. 

I’ve always known that about Christmas. It makes me feel good to give and receive gifts at Christmas. You can look at our family pictures and see that—everybody’s smiling, having a great time.  We wait until everybody’s up before we start gift giving.  I’m usually the first one up.  So, I make the coffee and get everybody out of bed and then we all gather in the living room. 

We open our gifts one at a time—starting with stockings. We take our time and the privilege my family gives me, which has now become our tradition, is that I get to hand out everybody’s presents. I’m kind of like the UPS guy—even if I’m not the giver, I distribute the presents.  We always try to have surprises and save the best stuff for the last.  I like hiding the last thing I’m going to give. You know, playing folks along, making them think there’s nothing left and then bringing out the really big gift.

Paula played that trick on me last year.  I thought we were done with gift giving.  There was nothing left under the tree. They distracted me, which is easy enough to do, and one of them comes walking in with this really cool looking leather guitar case.  I see it and I’m thinking what in the world has Paula gone and done?  And I open the case and there is this beautiful guitar that I’d been talking about but never thought I’d have or buy for myself. And she’s gone and bought it and, well, it made me cry. I was so happy I cried.

“God loves a cheerful giver.”  I think God loves cheerful givers because God delights in joy.  Joy is different from happiness.  Joy has staying power.  Joy stays with you even when you’re not happy, which is what I think the Bible is talking about when it says God loves a cheerful giver. God loves joyful givers, because at the heart of the universe is God’s joy. 

“Make a joyful noise to the Lord.”  The catechism taught us that; didn’t it? “Humankind’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy God forever.”  Joy, like true love, can’t be taken away from you.  God loves cheerful givers because giving makes God cheerful.  God knows what it’s like to give. God is the most joyful giver of all.

Remember how you felt when you became a parent—when you saw your child for the first time?  That’s just a tiny reflection of how God feels about the world, his gift to us. That’s how God feels about your life and mine. It gives God joy to give.

When you see your first-born or your second or third-born, it doesn’t get any better than that. And God is like that all of the time. God gives cheerfully.   And because we are made in the image of God—God wants us to feel what he feels. God wants us to know the fully alive joy of giving.  God loves cheerful givers because joy is the goal of creation—to glorify God and enjoy God—forever.  Forever is a mighty long time to enjoy God. It is an eternity. An eternity of joy.

If joyful giving is at the heart of the Universe because God is the ultimate joyful giver, why is giving so hard?  If giving is the center of life, if life is fundamentally about the giftedness of creation, the giftedness of forgiveness, the giftedness of love; if giving is the center, why is giving so difficult? If giving is the center, why do we have to work so hard to remind ourselves when we roll out the fall stewardship campaign? Why is giving such a hard-sell?

The short answer, which I don’t believe is the real or best answer, is that we’re selfish. We’re not hard-wired for giving but for taking.  Selfishness would seem to be the obvious reason we have to go begging for money every year.  But I don’t think that’s the real reason. 

I go back to my water glass of last week.  I think the real reason giving is so hard for us is that we think the glass is half-empty. Giving is difficult because we can’t give what we don’t have. And if we haven’t received “grace upon grace” we’re not likely to give “grace upon grace,” which explains why Paul insists that we not give “reluctantly or under compulsion.” 

It’s hardly a gift if you feel like you’re being made to give it.  Compulsory giving is another word for taxation which explains the reluctance Paul is so worried about.  And reluctance is hardly joy.  Reluctance goes with scarcity.  Reluctance goes with stinginess. Reluctance goes with “Well, I guess it’s time to pony up and chip in because it’s stewardship season.” Reluctance explains why giving among Presbyterians averages 2.7% of income. 

So, how do you get from being a reluctant giver to a cheerful giver?  This I think is a paradox. I think you get there by putting giving ahead of where your heart happens to be.  And I think we’re able to do that only as we realize that God provides us with everything we need.  Putting giving in front of where your heart happens to be not only takes faith, it calls for honest self-assessment.  Cheerful giving is a paradox.  On first take it may not feel so “cheerful.” It might feel down right unsettling, painful even. Because when we examine our giving and spending in the searchlight of God’s truth we can look woefully inadequate.

We’ve asked you this fall to take a really hard look at what you’re giving by measuring your giving against income. That’s why we developed the Stewardship Calculator.  The Calculator forces us to look at ourselves honestly. Now you can argue and quibble all you want with tithing and how it should be calculated—before or after tax.  We could quibble about whether tithing applies assets or income.  But all of that hair-splitting misses the point—stewardship invites us to grow in faith, which conversely is how stewardship grows. 

Faith grows with stewardship. And stewardship grows with faith.  I’m hard-pressed to say which comes first but based on personal experience the reality of signing a pledge card leads the way.  Tithing has made me become more faithful. Tithing has forced me to examine my priorities and has made me ask myself—“Am I putting my money where my mouth is.” Or as Jesus poetically observed, “Where your treasure is there your heart will be also.”

I had a friend in another church who always said when it came time for stewardship, “If it doesn’t hurt, it’s probably not stewardship.”  My friend was something of a cynic, which is likely why we are friends, but I think he’s right.  Giving, like love, is not without pain.  We really aren’t kidding when we say, “So-and-so is a real pain in the neck.” Sometimes other body parts are referred to, but you catch my drift. 

Forgiveness works the same way.  I don’t think there’s anything all that easy about forgiveness—at least not when we’ve truly made a mess of our lives or someone else’s life.  The Bible knows this to be true, which is why a cross stands at the center of our faith.  Grace is not cheap or if it is, it is not grace.  Likewise, stewardship is not cheap or if it is it is likely not generous, which brings me back to abundance and joy. 

None of us can give sacrificially out of scarcity, at least not for long.  My friend’s observation about “giving until it hurts” is true, but true only to a point.  We can’t give out of scarcity. We can only give out of abundance and abundance is not about our sacrifice, our pain.  Abundance is about God’s sacrifice, about God’s love in Jesus Christ. God gives more than enough for everyone so that we share abundantly. If this reasoning sounds circular, it is.  But that’s just the way God designed the world.  It is also the reason that when we give generously and when we give till it hurts we experience joy or what Paul calls “cheerful giving.”  Cheerfully giving when you come right down to it is what people do when they meet Jesus.  I mean, look at Zacchaeus.

It’s impossible not to love this story—“Zacchaeus was a wee little man and wee little man was he. And Jesus said, Zacchaeus, you come down for I’m going to your house this day.”

Luke tells us two important details about Zacchaeus, three if you count his stature or lack thereof, which undoubtedly delights Freudians, but that’s for another day. Luke tells us that Zacchaeus was a “chief tax collector” and that he was “rich.”  To be fair Luke is really hard on rich folks.  According to Luke, camels have an easier time threading through needles than rich folks have getting into heaven.  It was Luke who said the rich man burned in hell rather than poor Lazarus. It was Luke who said the rich young ruler went sadly away from Jesus because he had many possessions. And it is Luke’s Mary who upon learning she is “blessed among women” exclaims, “the Mighty One . . . has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.”

Luke is hard on rich people.  Matter of fact, when Jesus preaches his very first sermon, Luke gives him this text which Jesus said was fulfilled in his presence, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.” That refrain is echoed time and again by Jesus, as when he said, “Blessed are you who are poor . . . But woe to you who are rich.” 

Frankly, Luke’s gospel leaves me cold because I’m not sure there’s grace for rich people like me, but then along come Zacchaeus and I think, “Well, maybe there is hope,” and not just because Zacchaeus was rich but also because he was a “tax collector” which we all know is a code word for “sinner.” Zacchaeus was not only rich, he was a sinner. And Jesus went to his house. Jesus went to the house of a rich sinner. And where Jesus goes there is hope. 

Jesus is passing by and Zacchaeus is up a tree. That’s how badly he wanted to see Jesus.  In her Bible study Monday with our Coffee Club guests, Emily compared it to a Mardi Gras parade.  You know, when the parade’s going by, you’ve got to get up high.

Zacchaeus’ view is blocked. He can’t see anything but the backs of the people in front of him. And you have to figure that the tall people on the front row liked it that way.  Zacchaeus, however, is undeterred. He wants to see Jesus so he climbs the tree.  And the funny thing is; it’s Jesus who first “sees” Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus didn’t even have to shout out, “Hey, Mister.” And Jesus not only sees Zacchaeus -- he invites himself to Zacchaeus’ house.  Your pew Bible and my pulpit Bible describe Zacchaeus’ response to the invitation in these words, “So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him.”  Most of the time the NRSV translators get it right, but this time they missed the mark. The text should read, “Zacchaeus hurried down and welcomed Jesus with joy.”  That’s what the Greek actually says. Zacchaeus welcomed Jesus with joy.

Zacchaeus finds joy because Jesus first finds Zacchaeus.  I think that’s how grace works.  When Jesus finds us we find joy. And look at what joy brings, “Half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.”  If that sounds like repentance and not a little unlike sacrifice, it is, which is what happens when we’re found by Jesus—we repent and give generously. Joy and sacrificial giving and abundant grace are all wrapped together. 

You can’t give what you don’t have, but when Jesus finds you, there is no telling what you will give. This much is certain: when Jesus finds you, giving isn’t reluctant or compulsive, because having Jesus or rather being found by him, brings us near to the heart of God. And at the heart of God there is joy, abundant joy so that “by always having enough of everything, we share abundantly in every good work.”  Amen.