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The Church of
Our Saviour
in the Town of Secaucus, New Jersey
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What is good
giving?
Reflections on the
lessons for the 13th Sunday after Pentecost
By The Rev. Mark A.
Lewis, Vicar
Isaiah 35:4-7a / Psalm 146:4-9
James 1:17-27 / Mark
7:31-37
This week the media reviewers had a
ball with Debra Ginsberg's Waiting: The True Confessions of a Veteran
Waitress. Writing after 20
years of restaurant work, her earthy anecdotes confirm my
granny's worst fears about what goes on back in the kitchen
-- baked potatoes rolling all over the floor and scooped
back onto plates. And it reminds us all that eating out is
more or less a leap of faith.
The part that grabbed me the most
was her thoughts on tipping. I was a waiter once, for a
little while. Years ago in graduate school. I remember how a
good tip made up for a lot of troublemaking. And how a bad
tip left me wondering what I did wrong. But Ginsberg ran
with a different breed of waiter. She tells of irate servers
chasing small tippers out to their cars and throwing the
change at them. Others, when the bar tabs got big enough to
cause a little carelessness, would pad them out even bigger
to beef up the tip. She finally gave up waitressing. Not
because of the hours, or the sore feet, but because of the
tipping. It's a bad system, she said, a bad kind of giving
with a tendency to make the receiver feel demeaned and the
giver feel a false superiority.
And that's a pretty good
explanation of why Christians do not tip God. Never mind
that virtually nobody gives to the work of the church
anything approaching the 15 to 20% they leave waiters. (Even
the Bible sets a 10% cap on religious support and says that
anything more ought to be deployed somewhere else.) Giving
to the church's ministry on God's behalf to the people of
God is just a different thing from tipping. There's bad
giving and there's good giving. And we are called to do more
than ante up to make the congregation run in the black. We
are called to find a way to give well, not least of all for
our own sake, for our own growth and development.
Stewardship is one name we give to
good giving. Among other things. Because financial support
of the church is only a very small part of the big
stewardship picture. Giving to the church is a subset of
giving to all good works, which in turn is a subset of all
you do with all you have all the time. Stewardship is the
yardstick by which everything in life is measured: Every
moment of our time wasted or not, every word we speak, every
strength and talent we are granted, every grain of rice on
our plates.
You are a steward -- good or bad --
of everything you hold in trust from God. You can't avoid
it. You can't evade it. Being a poor steward can be either
no more than an opportunity missed or, at worst, a
destructive and spiritually corrosive way of living. But,
becoming a better and better steward of God's gifts until
you finally are a pretty good one can be a vehicle to a new
life where you and the world you see through the lens of
stewardship are transformed into something new and good.
Light out of darkness. Life out of death. So, we do well to
think about stewardship all the time, not just in the few
hours a year we focus on how we decide to give some part of
our cash resources to support the physical operations and
outreach of this congregation.
In the case of giving, there are
some things that we do know about good giving. For one, good
giving needs to be full of freewill and gladness. The old
Salvation Army phrase "Give until it hurts" just doesn't sit
well with me. Maybe something more like "Give until it feels
good". In any case, if you're interested in good stewardship
giving, no begrudging is allowed. And no strings may be
attached. What you're doing is giving up control -- in a
planned way and in an intentional direction -- and then
trusting the recipient you've chosen to carry on the work
you can't do on your own. One important result of that: Such
complete giving helps expose to you the structure of some of
the traps you may be caught in. Practicing letting go of
things gradually makes people better at doing just that,
better at not clinging to things. And when your hands aren't
so busy clutching at the bars around you, they are freed up
to start taking your cages apart.
Good giving, likewise, absolutely
must be seen in a proportional way. All giving in fact is
proportional. If you drop a dollar bill in the alms basin
every Easter Day -- that is inevitably some percentage of
what you have to give. To be moving toward a godly
stewardship of your life, you need to know what percentage
that is. Only then can you know how the significance of your
gift compares with the importance of the church and its work
to you. And that applies across the whole financial spectrum
of life. It really is not the amount of any gift that
matters most, but its significance to the giver. When a gift
is precious to the giver, it is precious to everyone who
knows even the least bit about good giving.
Knowing how your whole economic
picture fits together is very, very telling. Often it tells
more than we want to know. Plenty of people can rattle off
how much of their paycheck goes for housing. Fewer, I'll
bet, have right on the tip of their tongue the percentage of
their annual income that goes for cigarettes, or lottery
tickets, or whatever indulgence you're not especially eager
to analyze. To know that figure would probably make most
people squirm and feel a push to reevaluate. When it comes
to running churches, I just don't think that God is all that
interested in funding budgets or traditional staffing. We
tend to get wrapped up in that. But I believe God gets
wrapped up in what happens to the heart and soul and mind of
a good giver. And a church seasoned with even a few
transformed people like that can change the world around
it.
An Aside on Proportional
Giving:
One of this year's Vice-presidential nominees was in the
news this week with his tax returns. In one particularly
flush year he earned well over $20 million. That on top of a
string of similar years. Of that sum -- far beyond what
could be needed for the comfort and luxury of any human
being -- he gave 1% to charity. Now that's a lot of money.
Almost a quarter of a million dollars. But I'll wager that
its importance to the giver was insignificant. And its
rewards commensurately small.
What are the rewards of good
giving? What do you get? Some TV preachers will hint that
you might get back your giving with a tidy return on your
investment. Some might suggest that if you give enough your
children will be nicer or you might get some VIP treatment
from God. I don't go there. But I can say a few things about
what I get (and what I am "getting" [in a cognitive sense] a
little better every year) from trying to be a credible
steward of God's stuff.
For one thing, I get a sense of
plenty. I know that I can live on less than I have to live
on. It's an indisputable fact. I've done it. And that makes
me feel a little stronger than I might otherwise. Maybe,
over the years, I have sacrificed some things to give beyond
my own borders. But if I have I don't remember what they
were and so I suppose I am also learning something about not
needing things in the long run as much as I think I do at
the moment. Since I don't feel poor or deprived at all I
doubt that I would have felt any lasting enrichment from
whatever it was that I never got or did.
I also find that giving -- this is
pretty obvious -- gives me some sense that I have been in
some personal way a relief to the world's problems and an
enabler of its dreams. I give to several things besides
church. So, when the public radio station says, "thank you"
after its pledge drive, I really like thinking "you're
welcome". When I list the things that our congregation has
supported and the things that we have made available to our
community and to communities around the world, I feel a
little better about myself than I might. I don't think I'd
look back on a year's worth of visits to Plaza Pizza with
any comparable sense of pride.
Very importantly, I get a sense of
standing back from the edge. It's not quite the same thing
as the sense of plenty I mentioned. It's about empowerment
and calmness. The feet-on-the-ground feeling of knowing that
I can live just fine on 90% of my income is the mirror
opposite of the anxiety of feeling like I need 110% of my
income just to get by. Giving away a noticeable proportion
of what I have - even though the amount isn't impressive on
its own -- proves to me that I'm not living on the
brink.
The years I have spent practicing
(and sometimes playing) at being a good steward -- and a
good giver -- have worked a miracle in my life. And I have
been transformed into a kind of person I once didn't even
know about. (This gives me hope that the same thing will
keep on happening to me again and again.) But even now, I
see the world in a way I'm grateful to have discovered.
Really, it's no less than a miracle. Not a flashy miracle
like a voice from heaven or a bolt of lightning, more like
the blind receiving sight, the deaf being made to
hear.
-- Mark Lewis
Links for further
reading:
Waiting: The True Confessions of
a Waitress
By Debra Ginsberg
By loan through BCCLS and the Secaucus Public Library
By purchase from Amazon.com
Your comments or questions are welcome MLewis@secaucus.org.
Links to additional "Reflections on
Lessons" may be found at the bottom of the Sunday web page.
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