I’m hoping that you are reading this early. Hoping because I’ve just started writing, but I intend to finish on Friday this week, instead of the usual Saturday. I mean there is no reason why I couldn’t do this earlier in the week. Except that isn’t my rhythm. That isn’t how I’ve worked this process that starts with text and context and works it way into a sermon for Sunday morning and the last gathering of thoughts and images and ideas on Saturday. It isn’t the system I teach, or what I recommend for most preachers. But it works for me.
This week, however, I have another obligation on Saturday. So, I can’t spend the time immersed in the text that I usually like to spend. Instead I am driving to Ohio, for lunch with Maddie in her sorority. This is an unusual thing, men aren’t usually allowed into the house, certainly not for a meal. But this is Pi Guy day. (Alpha Delta Pi) I’m the Pi Guy. Maddie’s been raving about their cook, Connie, so I’m looking forward to the meal. But mostly I was pleased to be invited to be the guy. It doesn’t say Pi Dads, it just says guy. Maybe dad is implied, but I choose to believe she chose me to come because she wanted me to come. Not because she had to invite me.
So I will go to be blessed by her presence, blessed by sharing in her world for a little bit. Of course part of my going will be to help her recover from her latest accident. Not a trip to the ER this time, but a laundry accident. A forgotten lipstick left in a pocket and the subsequent redecorating of some of her favorite items of clothing. She was pretty devastated a few days ago. When I told her we could find a moment to replace a few things and then more things when she was home for Thanksgiving in a couple of weeks, she was greatly relieved. She felt blessed.
Blessings sometimes come in surprising ways. Sometimes they come in the midst of the anxiety of living. Sometimes they come out of the bounty of goodness and the abundance of a life rich in the things that matter, in love and joy and peace. Blessings come when we’re least expecting them. And blessings come because we strain forward to receive them, we beg and plead on our knees for them. They come just in time to remind us of our dependence on the One who sustains us even in the darkness and the One who makes the sun to rise and the stars to shine. Sometimes blessings come long after we thought we should have them, long after we were strong enough to enjoy them, and instead become the means by which we redefine our lives in humility and gratitude.
It is commitment Sunday at Aldersgate this weekend. The time where we declare ... what? What is it that we declare? We write down a number, an estimate of giving for the next year. But what are we doing in that moment? What do we declare? What do we hope happens because of this annual faithfulness? Why do we do it? Well, because we’re told to.
Malachi 3:10-12 NRS Bring the full tithe into the storehouse, so that there may be food in my house, and thus put me to the test, says the LORD of hosts; see if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing. 11 I will rebuke the locust for you, so that it will not destroy the produce of your soil; and your vine in the field shall not be barren, says the LORD of hosts. 12 Then all nations will count you happy, for you will be a land of delight, says the LORD of hosts.
Back up a couple of verses and you get the harder version of this concept. God accuses us of robbing Him. When we withhold our tithes, when we don’t give to God, we are God-robbers, says Malachi. It explains why things go wrong, he argues. The people are in the midst of a drought. It is devastating the nation. They are asking why. Why is this happening to us, to the people of God? We are good people, aren’t we? Why should such terrible things happen to us? Well, says Malachi, you aren’t really committed. You aren’t really sacrificing. The drought, the barrenness is the result of your disobedience.
But there is a solution. Give. Give all that is required. Bring the full tithe into the storehouse. And the windows will open and the rain will fall down on the parched ground. The blessing you seek will be yours. Just give, give enough, give sacrificially. That’s all it takes.
Right? Listen here, Malachi, you’ve got some explaining to do. This isn’t really how it works, now is it? It can’t be that mechanical. Insert this into that and turn the crank and out pops all you ever wanted. All you ever needed. God is only angry at your stinginess. And you can appease the angry God by coughing up a little bit more. Or a lot more, depending on how far in arrears you are. Pay up, and the blessings will flow. The locusts will stop gnawing away at the stalks of your confidence. The labors of your hands will bring forth fruit; you won’t be the loser who can’t produce any more. Just give a little bit more. Just pledge something substantial, and every one will be your friend, you’ll rise to the top, be the life of the party. Just give and you’ll be a land of delight.
Sounds great. Really. Simple. Straightforward. Easy. Oh, so easy. Just give and ... Just put a little bit more in the plate and ... Too easy. That’s what’s echoing around in our mind as we read these words from Malachi. Way too easy. There’s a catch. A formula, words that have to said, a condition of heart that has to be held. That’s the escape clause. I gave and nothing happened! I didn’t feel delight. I didn’t see the windows of heaven open and the blessings shower down! What happened? Well, you didn’t believe enough. You didn’t pray the right prayer. Try again, hold your mouth like this, say these words, close your eyes tight, then it should work. Right?
Well, no. The problem, Malachi, is that the way you put this, these words from God, makes it sound like a transaction. A contract between equals. I’ll give you this, you give me that. Blessings are a commodity, something we can buy. Delight is an item on the shelf and as long as we have the cash, or our credit is good then we’re set.
Except we know that isn’t how it works. We know because we’ve tried. Again and again we’ve tried. Even when we try to convince ourselves we aren’t trying to buy off God, we are trying. So, either we’re really bad at commerce with God, or there is something else going on here. Malachi, you say that God says put me to the test. What else can that mean, but enter into a transaction with the dispenser of blessings and delight?
Think about it for a moment, mutters the prophet with a sigh, if you were going shopping in God’s supermarket, could you even reach the counter? Do you think that your paltry gifts, no matter how grand they seem on your scale, could be enough to amaze the God of wonders? Of course there is something else going on here. Of course you’ve got the wrong end of the stick if you think that you can partner with God to transact a dispensing of blessings.
Put me to the test, God says, means try it my way instead of yours. Instead of thinking in your terms of transaction and what do I get out of this and how am I better off because of what I do, try thinking like me for once. Give out of the sheer joy of giving. Pour out because you love, not because you’re expecting something in return. Give away that which will only weigh you down. Sacrifice because sacrificing is a way to be alive, not because it gets you further down the road to where you’re trying to be. And then see if the windows don’t open and the blessing comes pouring out. Not because you’ve given, but because in giving you’ve put yourself in the place to see them and to receive them. Not because you’ve earned a blessing, but because you’ve emptied yourself enough to receive them when you were too full of yourself before. The test is of the system, the way of living and being, in Jesus’ words, we are to test the Kingdom way of living. We are to give it a try, Malachi says. Give more than you think you can, and see if something doesn’t open up inside of you and the anger that you’ve felt because you haven’t been given your due, is swept away in a new wind that blows through your soul. Commit to giving to God, not because the church deserves it or the pastor is worth it, but because giving is the key that unlocks your heart and allows the Spirit to take up residence in your being and suddenly you know what Jesus meant by an abundant life. It’s not the stuff of this world, that isn’t abundance, despite the ubiquitous Christmas ads telling you otherwise. No, it is a lightness, a centering, a confidence and faith that comes from trusting not in the stuff we can own, but from living in a land of delight, of loving and being loved.
I’m not 100% sure what a Pi Guy is or does. But I want to give it as a gift to the daughter whom I love more than I know how to say. And because I love God, and love - really love - the church that Christ has called me to serve, I give. And learn to live in a land of delight. Join me.
Shalom,
Derek
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