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Peter JB Carman
Emmanuel Friedens Church, Schenectady New York
Stewardship/Thanksgiving Sunday, November 19, 2017
Reading: II Corinthians 9:6-15
I.
I keep coming back to the tomatoes.
In Bible Study this past Wednesday evening, we got to talking about the images the Apostle Paul offers of God the generous sower, God the generous farmer, in our reading from Second Corinthians. And the topic turned to tomatoes. Because we have two people in Wednesday evening Bible study who share their tomatoes every summer and fall, share them all over the place, and love doing it. God is a farmer who shares the abundance of the harvest, kind of like Arnie and Mary Lou do. God is the Farmer, who gives us life and love, who shares abundantly both food for the body and food for the soul. Is this to say that material wealth is a measure of God’s love? There is a world of difference between the abundance of God and the supersaturation of a world that can never get enough, in the pursuit of wealth.
I keep coming back to the tomatoes, which arrived late this year but with such abundance. I keep coming back to the tomatoes and the surprising grins on the faces of our local gardeners as they were recollecting giving so very many away. God gave them with plenty and so, in good humor and with a bit of laughter, they shared the wealth.
Paul reminds us in this morning’s reading that Christian faith—and the generous giving that is part and parcel of Christian faith—is not something that can be compelled or forced. “Each of you must give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work. As it is written, "God scatters abroad, God gives to the poor; God’s righteousness endures forever." The one who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.”
The Sunday before Thanksgiving this year, our congregation follows the time-honored practice of dedicating our gifts to God, and consecrating our intentions for the coming year, by walking up to the table and placing our pledges and offerings on the communion table. We don’t do this to compel giving! No, it’s a symbolic act of sharing the harvest, of saying thanks to the One from whom it comes. It is a symbolic way of coming into the presence of the Giver, the generous loving One who is the source of our lives, our relationships, our vision, our hope. Every year, Freddie Andersons decorates this table, with the symbols of the fruitful harvest. These are an ancient reminder of who God is, and who we are, and what is most basic in our lives.
II.
We live in a time when many folks seem to have come to one of three very messed-up conclusions about God. Some have decided that we are alone in the universe, that there is no overarching arc toward justice, nor any undergirding arms of God. No God at all. Some have come to believe that there is a God who favors the rich and the powerful, who rewards magically with prosperity those who have been chosen. As for the third crowd: they seem to have concluded that there is a God who is cruel, capricious, arbitrary and vengeful, a terrifying judge or a ruthless king.
I am here this morning to offer a gentle reminder of another approach. The bold claim of Jesus of Nazareth, when he showed up in Galilee two millennia ago, was this: There is a GOD! But not just any God. There is a God who is the source for all we have and are…a God of goodness, and mercy, a God of abundant love, one who plants the seeds and reaps the harvest of our lives. We know this God best in moments of healing, in moments when the hungry are fed, in moments when formerly silent people find their voices, and when forgiveness becomes a force for justice and love.
Our views and beliefs about God, our convictions about what is holy, spill over into how we live our lives. Those who think there is no God, will act as though nobody is watching or cares. Those who believe that God has given them extraordinary power, wealth and privilege as a sign of their being the chosen above all others will be in danger of acting arrogantly. Those who fear God as a bloodthirsty tyrant will live and then perish in fear, and anger. But those who understand that God is the generous and loving giver of life itself, an affectionate caring farmer, kind of like some people you know, only even more so: These will be more likely to live lives open to generosity, and willing to share.
III.
When I got married, I experienced a shock to the system in the department of family finances. It turned out my wife Lynn believed in this generous God, and believed that we needed to be giving away, in thankfulness, a substantial portion of our income, starting with giving to the churches to which we belonged. Now this had been easy in seminary, for 10% of zero is zero. But starting out our new life together, we actually had modest incomes, and we had to figure out how much of it to share. Now when I say modest, I mean modest. So, we put ourselves on a plan—phasing in how many percentage points we were going to give away, of that income, over the course of a few years. And then just to be kind to ourselves, we put away a similar amount in savings. I guess we were like ancient farmers, setting aside seed for the next planting season.
I’ve been grateful to Lynn for this part of our partnership. The important thing to stress is that, for me at least, this is not about what we are obligated to do: it has been a lovely way to respond to the generosity and love of God—not the whole thing, but an intentional and caring part of the response. The act of sharing part of the abundance of our lives is not done because we have to, but because it is a very natural caring response to GOD’s sharing. Just as forgiving one another is a response to God’s forgiveness. Just as planting and sharing a few garden vegetables is the natural response to the gifts we receive from friends.
IV.
A few years ago, I was invited for lunch to the home of new church members in Rochester. They invited me on a Wednesday, for lunch, and I figured it would be something informal. I walked up to one of those big old run-down colonial houses they jam into the Rochester backstreets five feet apart. My hosts greeted me warmly on the porch. As we entered into the dining room where the table was set, it rapidly became clear that this was not a light lunch. My hosts had prepared a feast.
Two women and their children, they had arrived a year before from Brazzaville, in the Congo. It turned out that having the pastor over was an excuse for a party. With pride they brought out still steaming a special boiled sponge bread. Two or three kinds of squash and root vegetables. A leafy green thing, which they had managed to bring in seeds for, and grown next to the house, sat in the middle of the table. And that was just part of the repast.
Now I had lived in India, and I had been to Thailand. But never Africa, never Congo, never Brazzaville. There was not a single familiar item on that table. I ate everything I was served! Because even though we sometimes may be caught by surprise, it is important to understand that we are at a Thanksgiving dinner, a moment to give thanks to God, the best way we can—by sharing what we have. Even when what we have is shared amid dislocation and coming to a new city.
I want our lives to be just like that meal. Not that God’s feast always tastes like what we expect, certainly not familiar. But God’s banquet is the kind of meal that catches us by surprise, the kind of hospitality that comes from the heart. And so, whatever our neighbors offer us as THEIR gift, we receive it gratefully and as though it came straight from God herself, right from Jesus.
V.
God is preparing a feast for this congregation. There may be unfamiliar treats ahead. The gifts we receive may not always be the ones we are looking for; the people who come our way will not necessarily be the folks we sat next to in 1967, but none of that matters. Because it comes from God. And the blessings we receive will be known in the breaking of bread.
May our lives be a feast of sharing, in grateful Thanksgiving to a God of utter love, and radical inclusion. And know this—rest assured! Whatever gift each of us brings, whatever dish you cook up, whatever task you embrace, will be gratefully shared, all of us together.
Thanks be to God, for acts of unspeakable mercy, and moments of surprising grace. Thanks be to God for real people, doing our best, by bits and pieces, to live our life together in gratitude, and wonder, and always always openness to surprises.
Emmanuel Friedens Church, Schenectady New York
Stewardship/Thanksgiving Sunday, November 19, 2017
Reading: II Corinthians 9:6-15
I.
I keep coming back to the tomatoes.
In Bible Study this past Wednesday evening, we got to talking about the images the Apostle Paul offers of God the generous sower, God the generous farmer, in our reading from Second Corinthians. And the topic turned to tomatoes. Because we have two people in Wednesday evening Bible study who share their tomatoes every summer and fall, share them all over the place, and love doing it. God is a farmer who shares the abundance of the harvest, kind of like Arnie and Mary Lou do. God is the Farmer, who gives us life and love, who shares abundantly both food for the body and food for the soul. Is this to say that material wealth is a measure of God’s love? There is a world of difference between the abundance of God and the supersaturation of a world that can never get enough, in the pursuit of wealth.
I keep coming back to the tomatoes, which arrived late this year but with such abundance. I keep coming back to the tomatoes and the surprising grins on the faces of our local gardeners as they were recollecting giving so very many away. God gave them with plenty and so, in good humor and with a bit of laughter, they shared the wealth.
Paul reminds us in this morning’s reading that Christian faith—and the generous giving that is part and parcel of Christian faith—is not something that can be compelled or forced. “Each of you must give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work. As it is written, "God scatters abroad, God gives to the poor; God’s righteousness endures forever." The one who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.”
The Sunday before Thanksgiving this year, our congregation follows the time-honored practice of dedicating our gifts to God, and consecrating our intentions for the coming year, by walking up to the table and placing our pledges and offerings on the communion table. We don’t do this to compel giving! No, it’s a symbolic act of sharing the harvest, of saying thanks to the One from whom it comes. It is a symbolic way of coming into the presence of the Giver, the generous loving One who is the source of our lives, our relationships, our vision, our hope. Every year, Freddie Andersons decorates this table, with the symbols of the fruitful harvest. These are an ancient reminder of who God is, and who we are, and what is most basic in our lives.
II.
We live in a time when many folks seem to have come to one of three very messed-up conclusions about God. Some have decided that we are alone in the universe, that there is no overarching arc toward justice, nor any undergirding arms of God. No God at all. Some have come to believe that there is a God who favors the rich and the powerful, who rewards magically with prosperity those who have been chosen. As for the third crowd: they seem to have concluded that there is a God who is cruel, capricious, arbitrary and vengeful, a terrifying judge or a ruthless king.
I am here this morning to offer a gentle reminder of another approach. The bold claim of Jesus of Nazareth, when he showed up in Galilee two millennia ago, was this: There is a GOD! But not just any God. There is a God who is the source for all we have and are…a God of goodness, and mercy, a God of abundant love, one who plants the seeds and reaps the harvest of our lives. We know this God best in moments of healing, in moments when the hungry are fed, in moments when formerly silent people find their voices, and when forgiveness becomes a force for justice and love.
Our views and beliefs about God, our convictions about what is holy, spill over into how we live our lives. Those who think there is no God, will act as though nobody is watching or cares. Those who believe that God has given them extraordinary power, wealth and privilege as a sign of their being the chosen above all others will be in danger of acting arrogantly. Those who fear God as a bloodthirsty tyrant will live and then perish in fear, and anger. But those who understand that God is the generous and loving giver of life itself, an affectionate caring farmer, kind of like some people you know, only even more so: These will be more likely to live lives open to generosity, and willing to share.
III.
When I got married, I experienced a shock to the system in the department of family finances. It turned out my wife Lynn believed in this generous God, and believed that we needed to be giving away, in thankfulness, a substantial portion of our income, starting with giving to the churches to which we belonged. Now this had been easy in seminary, for 10% of zero is zero. But starting out our new life together, we actually had modest incomes, and we had to figure out how much of it to share. Now when I say modest, I mean modest. So, we put ourselves on a plan—phasing in how many percentage points we were going to give away, of that income, over the course of a few years. And then just to be kind to ourselves, we put away a similar amount in savings. I guess we were like ancient farmers, setting aside seed for the next planting season.
I’ve been grateful to Lynn for this part of our partnership. The important thing to stress is that, for me at least, this is not about what we are obligated to do: it has been a lovely way to respond to the generosity and love of God—not the whole thing, but an intentional and caring part of the response. The act of sharing part of the abundance of our lives is not done because we have to, but because it is a very natural caring response to GOD’s sharing. Just as forgiving one another is a response to God’s forgiveness. Just as planting and sharing a few garden vegetables is the natural response to the gifts we receive from friends.
IV.
A few years ago, I was invited for lunch to the home of new church members in Rochester. They invited me on a Wednesday, for lunch, and I figured it would be something informal. I walked up to one of those big old run-down colonial houses they jam into the Rochester backstreets five feet apart. My hosts greeted me warmly on the porch. As we entered into the dining room where the table was set, it rapidly became clear that this was not a light lunch. My hosts had prepared a feast.
Two women and their children, they had arrived a year before from Brazzaville, in the Congo. It turned out that having the pastor over was an excuse for a party. With pride they brought out still steaming a special boiled sponge bread. Two or three kinds of squash and root vegetables. A leafy green thing, which they had managed to bring in seeds for, and grown next to the house, sat in the middle of the table. And that was just part of the repast.
Now I had lived in India, and I had been to Thailand. But never Africa, never Congo, never Brazzaville. There was not a single familiar item on that table. I ate everything I was served! Because even though we sometimes may be caught by surprise, it is important to understand that we are at a Thanksgiving dinner, a moment to give thanks to God, the best way we can—by sharing what we have. Even when what we have is shared amid dislocation and coming to a new city.
I want our lives to be just like that meal. Not that God’s feast always tastes like what we expect, certainly not familiar. But God’s banquet is the kind of meal that catches us by surprise, the kind of hospitality that comes from the heart. And so, whatever our neighbors offer us as THEIR gift, we receive it gratefully and as though it came straight from God herself, right from Jesus.
V.
God is preparing a feast for this congregation. There may be unfamiliar treats ahead. The gifts we receive may not always be the ones we are looking for; the people who come our way will not necessarily be the folks we sat next to in 1967, but none of that matters. Because it comes from God. And the blessings we receive will be known in the breaking of bread.
May our lives be a feast of sharing, in grateful Thanksgiving to a God of utter love, and radical inclusion. And know this—rest assured! Whatever gift each of us brings, whatever dish you cook up, whatever task you embrace, will be gratefully shared, all of us together.
Thanks be to God, for acts of unspeakable mercy, and moments of surprising grace. Thanks be to God for real people, doing our best, by bits and pieces, to live our life together in gratitude, and wonder, and always always openness to surprises.