Preaching Joyful Generosity

Rev. Bruce Barkhauer

The pulpit is the place from which we have the greatest opportunity to impact the most people. While small groups and one-to-one conversations for teaching and instruction may have substantial influence, the number of minds and hearts you can touch is limited in these more intimate spaces. Preaching remains at the top of the pyramid for reaching the majority of your congregation in one concentrated moment each week (even if it is asynchronous due to streaming or other delivery methods). Never forget that what we say and do here matters!

Words are obviously important to preaching; but so is tone. When choosing and handling texts in the season of financial stewardship we are often surrounded by the environmental factors in our congregations that can have an impact on our approach. Let’s be honest. Alongside of the need to bring a word about giving to support the ministry and mission of the church are the pressures of building and underwriting a budget to make that vision a reality. We can become captive to the urgency of needing more and frustrated at how seemingly little it would take if everyone would just do their part. Add in the fact that our own compensation and benefits that support our family may be on the line and it gets, well – let’s just say it’s complicated.

In such an atmosphere, we may gravitate to stories of judgment and prophetic challenge as a way to push our people off-center and into action. Malachi 3 comes to mind: “Would a man rob God??!!”(KJV). The entire 25^th chapter of Matthew including the parable of the talents (don’t be that guy!); the foolish young women (do you have enough oil?); or even the sheep and goats (you don’t want to be found on the left side do you?) are ripe for the picking if we think a little guilt will help us get the job done. And, if things are really serious, there is always Ananias and Sapphira in Acts 5 to drive home the point that stewardship is a life and death situation!

There is a place for such texts, as they are a part of the “stewardship canon.” But too often they are our main tools of choice because they are direct and they seem to put existential pressure on the listener to respond. In a time of stress it is easy to reach for what is readily available and “tried and true.”

It takes a bit more bandwidth and energy to reach higher on the shelf for the texts we sometimes leave behind, but it can be worth it. Moving away from stewardship as an obligation toward it being an opportunity – considering it as discipline rather a duty can be life giving for our listeners. When it becomes our joy as a partner in the unfolding Realm of God rather than simply our job as a responsible church member it is liberating. Tone matters.

Look to the texts that lift up generosity as delight, personal investment, and deep gratitude. Move inside the heart of the central actors in the story. All four gospels tell of a woman (unnamed in two of the gospels) who anoints Jesus with a precious oil worth a year’s wages! What must the depth of her gratitude have been? In the book of Acts, Joseph (Barnabas) donates the proceeds from tract of land that he willingly (joyfully?) lays at the Apostles’ feet in response to the “great grace” that was upon them all. Tabatha’s story is one of service to others that begins with grief at the news of her death but ends in celebration at her being raised from the dead. Her life is a testimony that for the church to be the church, it has to practice generosity. 

Even in the more prescriptive texts about the tithe in Deuteronomy, while describing the process, we learn that it is the people who benefit from the very gifts they bring for God. In chapter 14 we learn all of the gifts become a community wide “potluck supper” filled with wine, meat, and strong drink (sounds like a party!) to give thanks for God’s provision. In chapter 26, the liturgy of worship tied to the gift is one of remembering God as a God of deliverance and salvation; with the land creating an abundance so spectacular that even the foreigner/alien/sojourner is invited to the overflowing tables to join the feast. Praise God! There is not only enough – there is more than enough. 

A word of sufficiency can be a fresh wind of relief and renewal in the midst of culture that only talks about scarcity and which focuses on what we lack. We can lift up texts such as the feeding of the multitudes that remind us that wherever Jesus is, there is always more than what is needed. The wedding at Cana holds up for all to see the festive and joyful delight that follows the provision of the Divine which is always more than what is necessary.

Can you imagine a homiletic moment that not only lifts up the joy God has in providing for the creation God loves, but one that focuses on the true joy of both giving and receiving? Surely, we have a word to offer about the ministries and missions we are engaged in with our communities that are transformational – that make a difference – that touch the lives of real people with real problems and needs. Who wouldn’t feel good about hearing that? Who wouldn’t be inspired to want to do the things that lead to more of that?

Be encouraged to find the joy in preaching the stewardship season – and all seasons. After all, it is ultimately the hope that the way things are is not the way they have to be! What we do with our money matters – it can, and does, change the world.

This Was *That* Sermon

Rev. Tanya Tyler

You know how pastors all have “the sermon that will get me fired”? Yeah, this was that sermon.

Even though it was The Sermon on My Heart, and even though I felt the Holy Spirit urging me to write and deliver it, I didn’t want to write or deliver it. But I knew I had to. I didn’t have the luxury of saying no – of saying nothing. To say nothing would be to condone what had happened – the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery, latest in the line of Black Americans victimized by police brutality. As an African American woman pastor serving a predominantly Caucasian congregation, I knew my silence could give the impression that these tragedies didn’t matter. The temptation was there not to rock the boat. I started writing a sermon touching on the topic, then deleted it. But the Holy Spirit insisted I undelete and deliver it. “OK, Holy Spirit,” I said. “This sermon is your idea. If you want me to preach it, you have to help me.”

The text was Luke 15:21-32 – the story of the prodigal son. I’d seen a meme depicting the father standing with a sign saying, “#Prodigal Sons Matter.” The angry older son had his own sign: “#All Sons Matter.” The father went to the son and said, “It’s not about you right now.” In my sermon, I stressed what the Holy Spirit placed on my heart – that at this moment, in this crisis – and yes, it’s a crisis – we need to acknowledge black lives matter. “No one is saying blue lives don’t matter or all lives don’t matter,” I said. “But at this moment in time, we need to remember and emphasize: Black lives matter. For 400 years, black people have been in the sty. Waiting for scraps. Dreaming of more. Still trying to make our other brothers and sisters see and feel and care about what we’ve been through and are still going through. We want our other brothers and sisters not to belittle or dismiss our stories of racism and hurt and hate and fear and anger. And we want them to not perpetuate the evilness or do inane things like calling the cops on a group of black people barbecuing or a black man bird-watching in the park.”

These were not my words. They came straight from the Holy Spirit. She directed me to tell my congregation, “When you called me, you said very loudly and clearly, ‘Black lives matter.’ When you called me, you said very loudly and clearly, ‘Women’s voices matter.’ You said it like you meant it. And I believe you meant it.

"All I ask is, as we journey together, when and if someone says, ‘Black Lives Matter,’ just please – think of me, your pastor. Think of us and the work we are going to do together. And please, just say – ‘Yes – yes, they do.’”

I didn’t get fired.

I’m still here.

Thank You, Holy Spirit, for giving me the words and the courage to speak them.