Courage! To Trust God in All Things
Ralph DiBiasio-Snyder
October 15, 2006

Matthew 6:19-21, 7:7,8, Mark 10:17-31

Introduction to the Anthem, Treasures in Heaven

The topic of "stewardship" is one that is both pretty simple - a church needs money in order to operate, so we need to all chip in - but complicated - how much do we really need to carry out the ministry of Christ? How much should we invest in a building? What is "fair compensation" for staff? What programs and necessary, and which ones are just nice to have? The money we give away as a church, should it go to local needs, or to global ones? And, of course, there is the annual question of just how much I personally should "chip in."

Jesus talked a lot about money. And his message about stewardship was both simple - where your treasure is there will be your heart be also - and hard - give it all away, or something close to it.

The "sermon" today is in three parts. The first is by our choir as they sing some of what Jesus said about laying up "treasures in heaven" rather than here on earth.

The second part of the sermon in the form of a hymn - a wonderful, profound poem about what I think is really the most fundamental thing we can say to help us be good stewards of our wealth.

And then we conclude with a story about when a very rich man asked Jesus a very simple question, and received a very hard answer.

As we listen to the scripture in song and in word, as we hear the words of the hymn, let us listen intently for what we might hear God saying to us. I won't be trying to persuade you to give more (although that would be nice), nor badgering you about how you spend your money (we all should be evaluating that for ourselves). And I won't even be laying out the financial needs of your church (even though there are many - as always!)

Instead, I want us - all of us, children and youth too, not just adults - to simply listen, and think, and ask of ourselves How can I trust God in all things? And then at the close of the service you will be invited express your faith, your trust in God by turning in your estimate of giving card for 2007.

So let us begin by hearing two passages from Matthew's gospel, sung by the choir.

Anthem: Matthew 6:19-21, 7:7,8

The first part of the anthem, the first paragraph in your bulletin, reminds us of something that we already know, but tend to forget, namely, to put it in common terms, you can't take it with you. It hasn't failed yet. Everyone who has died left everything they owned right here - clothes and homes, stocks, bank accounts, the food in the fridge - no one has taken a thing with them. That being so, says Jesus, the wise person learns to value and nurture the parts of life that are in fact eternal. There are things that last through this life and even on into the next life, and things that don't. Knowing the difference makes all the difference.

By way of illustration: Five years ago I bought one of the best golf drivers you could get. [Shows a Callaway Driver.] Big Bertha - big money. Five years later, it hasn't worn out. But you know what? This summer, I "needed" something bigger - a really big club - it's as big as my head! [Shows new Taylor Made R7 460.] How could you miss?! My prized club of just five years ago is worth today . . . about nothing.

Because . . . Golf clubs don't last. Neither do cars, and boats, and houses, and clothing, ipods and cellphones and plasma TVs . . . . Friends and family, tenderness and kindness, working for justice, love for one another, and for God . . . Those are treasures that last. Wise stewards of their wealth have learned to know what really lasts, and what doesn't. And they are all the happier for it.

The second part of the anthem could sound like an invitation to a free-for-all shopping spree - you know, the kind where you run down the aisle of a store, plowing as much merchandise as you can into a shopping cart? Some people seem read it that way. Ask (for anything?) and you'll receive? Seek and you will find? Knock and it opens? While I'm not sure what these verses DO mean, I'm pretty sure it doesn't mean you get whatever you want, whatever you ask for.

No, what Jesus wanted to tell us was that God is the sort of God who by nature is a giving God. A gracious God. A God eager to meet our needs. A God who, as Jesus tells us elsewhere, knows we need food and clothing and shelter, and wants to provide those things. God, he says, doesn't required our begging and pleading. We can trust God in all things, Jesus would say, because of the kind of God we serve: a God of compassion, of grace, of mercy, who like any good parent, takes joy in the joys of his children.

And so the anthem text tells us that good stewards know the difference between the things that last, and things that don't. And they believe in a God that is willing and able to grace them far beyond they can think or imagine.

Now will you turn with me to hymn #689, the poem We Are Not Our Own. (This is another hymn by Bryan Wren - he wrote the hymn about marriage we sang last Sunday. The hymn Bring Many Names that we sing often is also by Wren.)

Perhaps the biggest mistake we can make is to imagine that our lives belong to us, to do with whatever we care to, or dare to. We are not our own.

Four hundred years before Wren composed this hymn in 1987 our pilgrim forebears were singing the 100^th psalm with these words: The Lord, ye know, is God indeed; Without our aid he did us make; We are his folk, he doth us feed, and for his sheep he doth us take. They knew, and we are rediscovering, that we are not our own. Given freedom to make choices, yes for good or for ill. But we come from God, are sustained by God and someday will go to God - knowing then for sure that we are not our own, really, and never were. All that we are and have are gift to us.

So the hymn begins, We are not our own.

Earth forms us, [like] human leaves on nature's growing vine,
Fruit of many generations, seeds of life divine.

We come from generations before us; and we are the seeds of the continuing life divine for generations to come. That's who we are. We owe the past, and we owe the future too.

The second verse begins with another great acclamation of faith:

We are not alone. Earth names us:
Past and present, peoples near and far, family and friends
And strangers show us who we are.

As stewards of God's gifts we know that we are in community - we are not alone. We know that we are formed by people - family and friends and even strangers - past and present . . . we are dependent on others to know who we are, and how we are gifted. We owe our very being to the human family, and the family that is our faith community plays no small role in naming us children of God.

Verse three. Here is the story of the Christ.

Through a human life God finds us. I love how in these first three verses the phrases Earth forms us, Earth names us, God finds us are emphasized by the music with three descending notes - you'll hear that when we sing it.

Through a human life God finds us; dying, living, love is fully known,
And in bread and wine reminds us: we are not our own.

In the life and death and resurrection of the man Jesus - remembered in the ritual of communion - we are found by God, and reminded of the truth of the very first words of the hymn, We are not our own.

Verse Four. If we are not our own, and in fact are related to generations past and future; if we are not alone, and if God has found us when we have wandered, giving us life again, then our response is . . .

Therefore let us make thanksgiving, and with justice, willing and aware,
Give to earth and all things living, "liturgies of care."

Thanksgiving for all we have is not just in our words and our songs, but in how we live - with justice, our living and our giving being like "liturgies of care."

Verse five. The poet Wren always acknowledges the realities of life and of faith.

And if love's encounters lead us on a way uncertain and unknown . . .

The way of Christ can and does lead us to places of conflict, of sacrifice, of uncertainty. If Jesus is any example, and he is, we know that his love encountered great opposition. And so do his followers. But when it comes, the hymn reminds us . . .

All the saints with prayer surround us: We are not alone.

"We are not alone." We've heard that at the beginning of the second verse, haven't we. We walk this way of faith, we act as stewards of our wealth, not by ourselves, but within the community of faith.

And then the last verse talks about what this church, this community of faith can be:

Let us be a house of welcome, living stone upholding living stone;

Here the writer calls on an image that St. Paul used when he said we each are like living stones, building up together into a holy dwelling place for God. Each playing its unique, essential part, holding up one another, and offering that extravagant welcome: "No matter who you are or where you are on life's journey, you are welcome here!"

Let us be a house of welcome, living stone upholding living stone;
Gladly showing all our neighbors we are not our own!

How can we welcome others? What allows us to share our resources - this building, our dollars, our time, our love - with the community? We are empowered to give because we have learned that first principle of stewardship: we have learned and are learning still that "we are not our own." All is gift! We receive the blessings of our lives for but a season, and then leave them here for others to use. And so, as mere temporary stewards of the grace of God - never owners - we are free to share, to welcome, to be a dwelling place for God.

Listen now for the Word of God living in the midst of these remarkable - thoroughly counter-cultural - words of Jesus:

Mark 10:17-31

Drive around any community these days - Oshkosh, Appleton, Milwaukee, or go up north and you'll see them there too - the ubiquitous "mini-storage" facility. There's one at 41 and 26, another up Jackson, one on Nevada, two on Harrison, the Lake Road, south on Oregon. I counted some twenty-five just around Oshkosh. Mini-storage: where we store all the things we own that no longer fit in our houses. Our homes bursting at the seams, we need still more space to house - who knows? - everything from furniture to clothing, recreational equipment, oceans of National Geographics . . . who knows what may lurk in the dark recesses of our mini-storage units!

Many of these facilities have signs out front that say Self-Storage. "Self . . . Storage." Self. Storage.

Now, I know what they mean by that.. They mean you can put all your stuff in those units by yourself. No one's going to help you. Anytime of the day or night, you can store it yourself.

But what if we read that phrase differently? Maybe more accurately? What if we read it as "Self . . . who I am, what I value, how I define myself, my soul." "Self-storage." My colleague Andrew Warner writes, "I note the sign saying ?Self-storage' and wonder: How many selves do we lock up inside with those possessions?" [Christian Century, "Living the Word," October 3, 2006, page 19]

For we tend to define our selves by what we own. That's what the man in the scripture story was doing. He had lots of things, and just how important they were to him - how closely he identified his "self" with those possessions - is made clear when he is told to give them away. "His face fell" at the thought of emptying his Self-Storage units. "Because he had many things."

Maybe that's why the self-storage industry is booming. We dare not let go of our stuff because bound up with those things is something very precious . . . our selves.

Jesus says very clearly that the more one has, the harder it is for a person to keep focused on what really matters. Practically impossible, he says, with that bit about the camel and the eye of a needle - but still possible, with God. Thankfully. For us! But it's so easy to mix up who we are with what we own.

So: Here's what we need to know to be faithful stewards, courageous stewards who dare to trust God in all things:

Amen!