Communion Sunday

November 7, 2010

“Defined By Generosity”

 

Reverend Michael D. Powell

 Luke 6:37-38 

 

            What defines your life?  It’s often been said that if everyone just lived by the Golden Rule the world would be a better place:  “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Did you know that all the world’s major religions have their own version of the Golden Rule? And the words of Jesus that we read this morning are still another way of saying the same thing.  They are the measure of a life well lived:  “Do not judge and you will not be judged, do not condemn and you will not be condemned.  Forgive others, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you . . . for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”   You might even go so far as to say these words define the meaning of life!  But sometimes it takes a lifetime to discover that, or at least it takes a life-defining event.

            Last Tuesday thirteen of us from Morningside joined about 600 other folks at the annual Habit for Humanity breakfast.  There were inspirational personal testimonies, and one of them really stuck with me.  Greg Eide, who is a Habitat volunteer and a board member, shared that he was in the hospital for a relatively minor problem, only to discover that he had bladder cancer.  He was forty four at the time.  He was hospitalized for treatments and found himself doing some serious soul searching about the meaning of his life.  He read a book called Half Time: Changing Your Game Plan from Success to Significance, by Bob Buford.  Buford talks about the average life span being about eighty eight years, and he talks about life in terms of four quarters, divided at twenty two, forty four, sixty six, and eighty eight year of age.  The basic concept of his book is that in the first half of our life we focus on 'success'. However, in the second half we need to shift our focus to 'significance'. The key to making this transition effectively is to have a good 'half time' where we reflect on our life and our most important contributions, those things that define our life.

            Greg Eide told about how that book was absolutely transformational for him, coming into his life precisely in the middle of his forties, his own “half time,” just as he was dealing with the meaning of his life.  Obviously, the cancer treatments stopped the growth of his cancer, and Greg found himself shifting the defining focus of his life from success to significance.  It was a powerful and memorable testimony about how he came to be a Habitat for Humanity volunteer. 

            I went online to research a little more about Buford’s writings and discovered a list of ten additional thoughts.  I’ll share just four of them here:

            How do you define your life?  I was struck by Buford’s last point:  “Aim to give more and more away to others, your community and church.”    I’ve been sharing Adam Hamilton’s philosophy with you as we’ve progressed through our stewardship campaign, Discovering Joy through Simplicity and Generosity, and he believes that when God created humankind, God designed us to be generous.  God created us with the willingness to give – to God and to others.  He says that this design is part of our makeup; we actually have the need to be generous in order to feel fulfilled and experience joy, to know that our life has significance.  He quotes Winston Churchill’s famous words:  “We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” 

            Hamilton goes on to say, however, that there are two voices that argue with this God-given impulse of generosity.  The first voice is fear of scarcity, which tells us: If I give too much, there may not be enough left over for me.  We are afraid to be generous because of a misplaced idea about the true source of our security.  The second voice argues for self-gratification:  If I give too much away, I won’t have enough to buy the stuff I need to make me happy.  But, part of spiritual maturity (entering a new life stage), is discovering that there comes a point when an increasing amount of stuff produces a diminishing return of happiness and satisfaction. 

            Hamilton talks about how we begin to defeat those twin voices of fear and self-gratification the moment we begin to allow the Holy Spirit to change us from the inside out.  We find that our fears begin to dissipate and our aim in life shifts from seeking personal pleasure to pleasing God and caring for others.  In other words, our life begins to be defined by generosity instead of fear or self-interest. Generosity is a fruit of spiritual growth, because it requires that we put more trust in God to supply our needs. 

            The theological foundation for generosity is the realization that life is a gift, and everything belongs to God.  Even our capacity to acquire wealth is a gift from God.  John Ortberg has written a book entitled: When the Game is Over, It All Goes Back in the Box.  He quotes the familiar words of Psalm 24:1, “The earth is the Lords, and all that is in it,” and then concludes by saying that at the end of our lives everything goes back in the box, a box about six and a half feet long by two feet wide. 

            Earlier, I read “Life Between the Dash,” by Linda Ellis.  The content of that little dash between our birth and death dates defines our life.  In our scripture this morning Jesus talks about loving, forgiving, and giving as the purpose of life.  The most poignant part of Ellis’ poem is contained in the four lines:

For it matters not, how much we own;
the cars...the house...the cash,
what matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our “dash”.

            Hamilton did a study of the practice of worship in the Bible and made an interesting discovery.  In every passage of scripture where people worshipped God, throughout 1,600 years of biblical history, the primary way people worshipped God was not by singing songs of praise or listening to sermons.  The central act of worship was building an altar and offering the fruit of one’s labors upon it to God.  In the early days worshippers would offer their tithe by burning a sacrifice and the fragrance of the smoke was like incense rising up.  They believed it was a way of pleasing God.  Of course, it wasn’t really that God loved the smell of burnt meat or grain. It was that God recognized their faith and their devotion, their generous gift of the valuable fruits of their labors, which expressed their trust in God’s providence. We don’t believe in burnt offerings today. We know that what is truly pleasing to God is when we offer a gift that expresses our love, faith, and our desire to honor God by doing God’s work here in the world, among all God’s family and creation.

            The “sacrifice” of generosity works miracles.  Those who have practiced the biblical tithe of offering the first 10% of their gifts to God consistently testify to how God always provides.  They give an extra hundred dollars to God, and somehow an unexpected $100 always seems to come their way.  But even more important, generosity not only pleases God and helps change the world - generosity changes us!  Tithers often testify that they began moving toward a tithe cautiously, and with a certain amount of fear and trembling.  I’ve heard that fear described as being financially and spiritually constipated.  We keep taking in, but we’re not giving out.  After a while, it makes us uncomfortable and causes us pain.  We’re taking in, but it is not satisfying us because we were not made to take in and never give back. We were created for generosity, and living according to God’s plan brings joy and contentment, a sense that our life has purpose and meaning.

            In Life Between the Dash, there are these lines, which are also a reflection of Christ’s words:

Be less quick to anger,
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we've never loved before.

            Those are defining words, aren’t they? They give us something to hold on to.  I’ll close with a story that Joe Wetherbee sent me, simply called “Keeper.” It beautifully expresses the kind of values we’ve been talking about over the past several weeks:

            “I grew up in the 40's/50's with practical parents. A mother, God love her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it. She was the original recycle queen, before they had a name for it. A father who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones. Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers, tee shirt and a hat and Mom in a house dress, lawn mower in one hand, and dish-towel in the other. It was the time for fixing things. A curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things we keep. 

            “It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy; All that re-fixing, eating, renewing. I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more. 

            “But then my mother died, and on that clear summer's night, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more. 

            “Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up and goes away, never to return. So, while we have it, it's best we love it and care for it, fix it when it's broken and heal it when it's sick. This is true for marriages and old cars, children with bad report cards, dogs with bad hips, and aging parents, and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it. Some things we keep. Like a best friend that moved away or a classmate we grew up with. There are just some things that make life important, like people we know who are special, and so we keep them close!” 

            May your life be defined by the generosity of your love, your love of family and friends, your love of God, and your love of this church, this flesh and blood incarnation of the Body of Christ, whose generous love we celebrate this morning through the Sacrament of Holy Communion.  May Christ be your shalom. Amen. 

 

Life Between the Dash

by Linda Ellis

 

 

I read of a man who stood to speak
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning...to the end.

He noted that first came her date of birth
and spoke the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the “dash” between those years.   (1934 -1998)

For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on earth...
and now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own;
the cars...the house...the cash,
what matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our “dash”.

So think about this long and hard...
are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
that can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
to consider what's true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we've never loved before.

 

If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile...
remembering that this special “dash”
might only last a little while.

 

So, when your eulogy's being read
with your life's actions to rehash...
would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your “dash”?