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Home Page
The Rector's Welcome
Worship
Sermons
Music & the Organ
Newsletter
Schedule & Events
History
Programs & Ministries
Tour the Building
Links
Map & Directions
Monthly Calendar
Home Page
The Rector's Welcome
Worship
Sermons
Music & the Organ
Newsletter
Schedule & Events
History
Programs & Ministries
Tour the Building
Links
Map & Directions
Monthly Calendar
Fr. J. D. Ousley
2 October 2005Mt. 21“The Logic of Grace”
In the Name of God: Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. Amen.
Today's services are marked by two observances. The first is Commitment Sunday, which begins our Stewardship Program to plan the work of our parish for next year.
The second is St. Francis Day, our annual remembrance of the great medieval saint who was known for his love of animals.
Our congregation's commemoration of stewardship and St. Francis on the same day happens to be a coincidence. But it might also seem to be a contradiction.
For, among other things, stewardship is about planned giving. We dedicate a proportion of our income to God's work over the course of the year ahead.
We try to make these plans so that we'll be sure to keep our priorities straightBand also, in order that the church can draw up a budget for its work in 2006.
Now, unfortunately, the stewardship philosophy of St. Francis of Assisi wouldn't seem to be of much help to us. For St. Francis was born into a rich family. One day he got so disgusted with his own wealth — and with the suggestions he received from his father about what he should do with his life — that Francis gave back to his father everything he owned. Francis even took off the fine clothes he was wearing and returned them to his shocked parent!
Now, giving away all you have is one "philosophy" of stewardship. If you surrender everything you own, you won't have to worry about whether you're a good or a bad "steward" of the things God has given you — for you won't have anything left to take care of!
However, there are obvious practical problems with pure Franciscan philosophy. For one thing, you've got to depend on other people for the necessities of life.
Members of the religious order Francis founded first supported themselves by begging for alms in the street. As time went by, though, there got to be too many "mendicant" or "begging" brothers and sisters. There weren't enough people left who worked for a living who could share their money with beggars. In a short time, the medieval church actually banned this form of fund-raising. Franciscan sisters and brothers were commanded to earn their own livings.
So, too, over the centuries, individual churches have also developed different ways to fund their ministries. This church has an endowment, for example, which helps to pay the cost of upkeep on our large landmark building and our parish house.
Yet we still retain some of the ideals that were proclaimed so vividly by St. Francis. Instead of "dues" or "fees," we talk for example of "pledges." Our pledges to the church are free gifts. We make our offerings not because we have to pay in order to get into the church — but because we want to.
And we want to give because we want to share what God has given us. As Francis taught, all living creatures are connected. We are all part of the universal gift of God in creation.
So, as Christians, we acknowledge that gift by offering back to God some of the time and treasure God has already bestowed upon us. We are "stewards" of that treasure, and good stewards know how to put things to good use.
That said, I want to ask a question St. Francis would never have asked: "What's in it for me?"
Francis wouldn't have asked this question because he was one of those rare mystics who are able to get out of themselves and focus on God. Most of us are not so lucky. We look for an angle: if we give something, we want something in return.
Yet, interestingly enough, there are paybacks to stewardship. Every year, when I address the stewardship callers before a program begins, I point out that callers are doing people a favor. Pledging has benefits of its own.
For example, our pledges organize and regularize our commitment. For those of us who tend to put things off, making promises in advance is very helpful.
And planning also challenges us. We say we'll do something, and because we made that commitment, we'll stretch to keep our promise.
This is true both with commitments of money and of time: if I have to organize my time better so I can help with some outreach project — well, that means I'll become a better steward of my time. I'll get more things done.
Another interesting side benefit may be derived from people who find themselves, for at the moment, on the edge of a Christian community. Their pledges help them to feel part of the parish family.
As my first boss in the church used to say, "People value what they pay for." There's a lot of truth in that saying. The other day, as I was walking by Penn Station, someone handed me a free sample of a new kind of bottled water.
My first thought was, this water must not be very good — otherwise, the company wouldn't have to give the water away. (I admit I still kept the water!)
People value what they pay for because something they owned — their money — has been exchanged for the items they bought. So, too, our relationship with God is affected for better or worse by how much investment we put into our religion.
In a recent sermon, I discussed Christ's claim that God gives freely not based on what we do but out of his own generosity. This is why bad behavior in this life sometimes seems to be "rewarded" while the righteous suffer.
Now one couple who heard that sermon asked me afterwards if I meant to imply that there was no point in following the rules of Christian faith. If a man could convert on his deathbed and still go to Heaven, even though he had lived a thoroughly selfish life, why should we bother to make the sacrifices demanded by the Gospel?
Leaving aside the question of what happens after a deathbed conversion (I would fear the lifelong skeptic might have to pay for his sins in purgatory before he was ready for Heaven!), still, I think the most important point is that the sacrifices of Christianity have a value in themselves. Since they make us better people, they make us feel better.
So the practice of giving does lead to a payback. As we respond in gratitude for God's gifts, we become grateful people — people of grace.
And, of course, God's initial gift of grace is free! God has brought us into a relationship with him through the free gift of his Son, Jesus. The heart of our faith isn't our sacrifices, but God's.
So it's important not to get bogged down in the fund-raising side of stewardship. If your pledge card makes you nervous and you're afraid of over-committing yourself in the next year, think instead of what you're grateful for. Remember God's gifts to you and the pledge form will take care of itself.
In the end, maybe St. Francis' advice isn't impractical. Maybe, in the unique logic of grace, Francis is, in fact, a useful example.
We may not be called as he was to give away all that we have. But we are called to think beyond the economy of our particular culture, where everything has its price and nothing is for free.
Like Francis, we are called to recognize the gifts of God for the people of God, and we are called to respond with what we have — and be thankful.
And now unto that same God Father, Son, and Holy Spirit be ascribed as is most justly due all might, majesty, power, dominion and praise, now and forever, Amen.