I had to chuckle at the irony. There I was, on a Sunday morning, sitting in an Anglican church building in southern England that has been in existence for over 1,000 years, on one of a handful of Sundays during sabbatical that I actually made it to worship; and what were they talking about? Money! And not just for one week…no, my three weeks worshiping at that church happened to coincide with their two-week stewardship focus. The irony is that, for the past nearly seven years I’ve been your pastor, I lost count of the number of times I’ve been reminded that, “around here, we don’t talk about money…” or “fundraisers? We don’t DO fundraisers…” or “we don’t want our pastors to talk money because then guests will get turned off…” or sentiments similar to those. What an enjoyable moment I had with God, sitting in that Anglican church for those two Sundays in July, watching and listening as both pastor and laity talked about money, and noting that the 1,000 year old roof did not cave in!
The M word…most people shy away from it at church. I have often wondered why. In every other part of our lives, we must deal with money, come to terms with its uses, and accept its necessity. We must pay bills, feed and clothe and house ourselves and our loved ones, give to charity, plan personal and family budgets, and argue with our spouses about it. Why this silence in church, when it comes to the dreaded M word? Perhaps we are uncomfortable with the notion that church also has bills to pay and obligations to meet. Perhaps we are unsettled about our own financial contributions to the church. Perhaps we just don’t like equating money with faithful living. Perhaps we simply do not want to think about our church also as a business.
Thanks to Galilee Glanville and her thoughtful presentation two weeks ago on the history of covenanting at RUCC, we can finally take a big step forward on this matter of money here in our beloved congregation. Gal talked openly about how money was integral as this new congregation was forming over 30 years ago. She shared that the founding pastor taught them about tithing—the biblical practice of giving 10% of one’s income to the church, and that he helped them understand that incremental increases in covenant giving were a responsible way to move toward full tithing.
This new congregation was determined to avoid the archaic and manipulative “every member canvas” way of securing the church’s annual income, and with the genius of the covenant system, they were quite successful! Not once has Redlands UCC had a traditional stewardship campaign…and we’re not about to start now! Every year, the founders decided, each person would prayerfully write a personal covenant. That statement would include, among other things, how much money the family planned on giving to support the church in the coming year. No fuss…no muss…and absolutely NO arm-twisting…a one-time promise about money that could be amended at any time and renewed every year.
The climate of giving that this covenant system has engendered throughout the years is one of the most generous I’ve ever seen. And that certainly is an asset! However, I have also noticed a significant liability in the system, especially in relationship to our remarkable growth in numbers. Because we each only “do” money once a year during a very private covenant writing session with the Spirit…it has led us to refrain from talking publicly about money much at all. A consequence of this silence is that many newer members and friends are unknowing of our remarkable and unique way of “doing” money. I would guess, for example, that most of the congregation does not know the total church budget for any given year…doesn’t know that we fund seven areas of church life which provide services to grieving families and young children, that makes possible inspiring music and worshipful services, that supports community agencies and the national ministries of the United Church of Christ, and on and on… I’m guessing that most of us simply give because we’ve been taught or shamed or otherwise trained that this is what we do in church…we put something in when the plate is passed. And we never—well almost never—talk about money!
It is no coincidence that money is also called “tender”—legal tender. For conversation about money is, itself, often tender and cautious. Money is strewn with meaning far beyond its printed paper. To some, money is an indicator of personal wealth and power. To others, it is a symbol of their success in life. To still others, money is only a dream that on most days seems far off at best and completely unattainable at worst. A ministerial colleague of mine once told me that you could learn a lot about a person by looking over their checkbook register for the past six months. The values they believe in, the causes they support, the percentages of money spent on themselves compared with money donated to others—all is bluntly apparent in that little gray and white lined register.
My own history with money began, as did yours, with parents. In my case, my parents both worked, faithfully providing for all my needs and many of my wants. Thankfully, they never tethered their love with their money. Their love for me was constant, a sacred gift that I never questioned. Money, on the other hand, just sort of “happened” in our family…as did new clothes for the first day of school, books, bikes, pets, and the annual summer vacation. I do not recall one single conversation about money, other than the periodic fights about it that occurred behind closed doors. It wasn’t until I was a young 20-something, struggling financially as the single parent of a kindergarten son, that I learned the harsh reality that money does not just magically appear on one’s doorstep when needed.
Perhaps your history with money has been fraught with some of the same mystery. In my adult years, as I seek to develop a more mature and realistic understanding of money, I have found scripture to be a helpful guide. Many are the passages that encourage us to be good stewards of all we have, to realize that all our possessions are gifts from an extravagant God, and to include others generously in our good fortune; you’ve heard my meditations on these passages numerous times over the past 6+ years. The passages we’ve heard this morning add to our discussion by offering specific guidance about this tender subject of legal tender.
Isaiah the prophet accepts that money is a tool—a tool, in his era, for buying food that is delicious and healthy. “Ho,” he enthuses, “come, buy, and eat…buy wine and milk…eat what is good…delight yourselves in what is delicious…” But there’s just one catch to all this feasting: someone else apparently will be footing the bill. The prophet clearly writes, “If you have no money, then come, buy, and eat…” In the next verse, he rhetorically asks, “why spend your money on what is not healthy or nourishing or satisfying?” There are, in Isaiah’s age as in ours, the “haves” and the “have nots” and here Isaiah is talking to both. The prophet implies that money as a tool is to be used for the benefit of those who have no money. The “haves” are obliged to happily provide for the “have nots.” Further, the “haves” are to be responsible with what they have by paying attention to God, by listening to God’s covenant, and, in the end, by looking for the joy in providing for others. Money as a tool is a helpful concept as we seek to mature in our understanding.
The author of the first letter to Timothy suggests that money is a partner on our spiritual journeys, a silent partner that can assist us in reaching contentment. This is not the presumed contentment of people who have more money than common sense; rather this is the contentment of those who use what money they have for peaceful purposes. According to one contemporary commentary author, such is the contentment “…that finds value in life rather than in possessions, and that looks for sufficiency rather than surfeit of food and clothing.”
It is in this same passage in 1st Timothy where we find the famous, often misquoted, phrase about the root of all evil being the love of money. No wonder we in the church are reticent to talk money! The teaching of this entire passage undercuts the so-called “prosperity gospel”—the tempting notion circulating in our day that if we are good, then God will bless us with riches, and conversely, if we are wealthy, then it must be because we have been good enough to receive God’s obvious blessing. This notion is particularly abhorrent when applied to the poor, for, under this so-called “prosperity gospel” there is no way for the poor to escape the judgment that their poverty is a direct result of their being bad or wrong or evil in God’s eyes. By contrast, in this letter, the author identifies money, not as a divine judgment of personal character, nor as an indicator of how much God loves someone. Here, Money is seen only as a silent partner on the journey, a silent partner that can lead one to contentment.
Finally, in the gospel story, we hear the classic tale of the talents. So much has been written and said about this parable, that it is difficult to find anything new in it. The basic lesson, as I see it, is clear, whether we simply read it for ourselves, or in a more complicated way find ourselves practicing its truth. Money is not to be stored or hidden or neglected. Money is a multiplier—with it, used wisely, we can multiply our very real talents. We can, as did the slaves in the story, work with the money we’ve been given to make a difference in the world around us…to multiply our sphere of influence for good. Seeing money in this way—as a motivator to multiply our gifts and talents—helps depersonalize money while also accurately locating its power in us.
Money as a tool… Money as a silent partner on the journey of faith… Money as a motivator to multiply what gifts we have… Friends, these are easily translatable concepts from biblical times to ours. This became humorously clear to me as I sat and listened in that 1,000 year old church building just a few months ago. As I mentioned, the congregation was in the midst of their annual stewardship drive. I had been inspired by the minister’s talk about stewardship the first Sunday I attended, and had made an executive decision that I would donate, on your behalf, a £50 note. This gift, equivalent to about $100 would be our gift to them, a sort of friendly gesture to help them with their annual stewardship campaign. I had debated about whether or not to use a donation envelope available in the pew, and after reading something about the envelope being used only by British tax payers, decided to just drop the £50 in the plate by itself.
The next week—week 2 of their congregation’s stewardship drive—I happily went to church (after a fantastic early morning visit to Stonehenge!) and was delighted to hear a long-time lay member of the church talk about stewardship. He was speaking about the “nitty gritty” of running a church—the electric and water bills, the salaries for staff, the building repair and maintenance—it was clear that here was a man whose talents lay in the area we would call stewards. He mentioned the necessity for each and every donation to be accurately recorded, and patiently explained that, because the church is a historic site, the British government gives a certain amount to the church per taxpayer for each donation, and that such government income is only received if every donor provides UK taxpayer identification information on the envelopes provided in the pews. He continued, by sharing that last Sunday, the treasurer (who had been counting this congregation’s weekly giving for decades) was delighted to count the first-ever £50 note! But the speaker noted with disappointment that no tax information was provided, so while the church appreciates the generous gift, it would have been even better had the person used an envelope and given taxpayer info.
Well, as you know, that £50 note was from us, Redlands UCC. I’d not planned on saying anything about it, but his story was too good an invitation to pass up. So after the service ended, I approached him, introduced myself as a minister on sabbatical, and told him I had some good news for him about that £50 note. The good news was that their church lost nothing in potential government income, because I had put the money in the plate and I, obviously, was not a UK taxpayer. Further, there was another £50 note in the offering today, both gifts from our congregation in California to support their ministries. We shared a good laugh and he was visibly pleased to have this mystery solved. I must say, in good stewardship form, it was a joy for me to spread some of our Redlands UCC generosity amongst this faithful group of sisters and brothers in southern England.
What I have learned about money—both from scriptures and from life—is that talking about it and using it wisely can actually bring great joy! We need not fear money, nor need we hide from it, for it is purely and simply a tool. Around here, money has been and continues to be an incredible tool for good—keeping alive our vibrant witness in the community and our challenging vision beyond. And this, I believe, is the essence of what Jesus was trying to teach through his parable of the talents. For Jesus is really not talking just about an imaginary landowner and his obedient servants. Jesus is talking about the very kingdom—the realm of God—right here on earth, as close as the hand at the end of our arm, where the talent and treasure of each real person are necessary and abundance is the most descriptive budget word of the day!