11/16/52

Scripture: Psalm 103 (read)

Knowing where to draw the line is an art that requires constant practice. Like most arts it requires some vision. It presents a problem that faces all of us in one form or another. The student to whom every school activity looks good, and nearly everything in the curriculum seems interesting, has to draw the line at a point where he thinks he has about all the work, activity and play he can handle well. He may presently find that he has bitten off more than he can chew; or he may find that he can organize his time and attention to take on more.

A preacher has, repeatedly, to decide where to draw the line. Shall he talk only about personal religion? Or shall he deal mainly in social aspects of religious conviction? Shall he speak of both? And, if so, with what balance? If he refers to politics, or to economics, as religion bears upon them, how far shall he go? Where shall he draw the line?

The problem faces the educator. What shall he do about ideas which seem subversive? Shall he try to clamp down on the exploration of some kinds of thinking, or shall he encourage students to do some exploring, either independent or guided? If he pursues a policy of discrimination, shall it be only against communism? Or do socialists and pacifists also come under his condemnation? Is he to decide what ideas shall be expressed with approval or tolerance, or does he insist that no visitor may speak unless he has first been “cleared” by the authorities? Where to draw the line?

During the war, the citizenry had to draw the line at a bewildering number of points. Should we give intellectual, and supporting assent to the bombing of military objectives alone? What about civilian objectives in waging total war? Some few drew the line at waging war at all. Others drew the line at Hiroshima. Some wanted to know if any line at all should be drawn.

What has all this to do with this church, on this day? For the moment it has only illustrative significance, for we do not propose to tackle each of those problems today. Just now, our problem is the subscribing of the proposed budget for carrying on our church work in another year. What I do want to say is that in dealing with our church budget we also have to decide where to draw the line. And with the raising of the question, let each of us suggest some answers as to where the line shall be drawn.

A committee charged with responsibility for keeping our financial needs in mind, and for leading us in the subscribing of those finances, has met with representatives of the several aspects of our church activity. Figures that represent a reasoned response to the need are compiled, keeping in mind the worship and work of our church, our men’s and women’s groups, youth activities, the church school, the share we take in our Christian world mission. Then these figures were brought before the business meeting of the church, a week ago Wednesday, for examination, for debate or revision. And the church voted to adopt a proposed budget for 1953. Each item had been gone over with careful attention. An attempt was made to draw the line at a point which would effect the necessary economies, and at the same time accept the needs and possibilities of healthy growth. Churches generally have to keep an eye on economy, and yet no church should pride itself on that alone, lest it lose sight of its obligation to serve and to grow in spiritual stature.

Like all other enterprises, personal and corporate, we have still to reckon with upward costs and continuing inflation. Yet the total budget we propose to raise, as approved by the vote of the church on Nov. 5th, is substantially the same as for the past year; only about $200 more. This is where the line is drawn for the present.

Everything now depends on you - on each one of us. What matters today is where each member and friend of this church is going to draw the line.

It is possible for each one of us to do one of three things.

1). We can draw the line in niggardly fashion. Some do. Where the church is concerned, some reach for the smaller change lying in their pockets. And even only a bare minimum is sometimes given grudgingly, with the plaint that “churches are always asking for money.” Actually, I question whether this church asks often enough, or big enough, the financial support of the congregation. But more of that later.

It is niggardly to provide ourselves with luxuries and pleasures; spending lavishly on cinema and sports, clothes and cars, vacations and travel, hunting and hobbies; and then to slip into the offering plate only a casual amount bearing no relation to our income, or to the object for which it is given. What’s the use of dodging facts? We only play at religion if we hold back on its vital support! We touch it only with the tips of our fingers rather than laying hold on its life. Does anyone really want to be like some of the folk at Laodicia, described in the Book of Revelation, neither hot not cold, but tepid? Some of that same kind of people can be generous enough over some other things -- over their business advancement; over their politics; over entertainment and amusement; over liquor, cosmetics and smokes; spending more on them in a month than they give to their church in a year.

I once heard a layman in Honolulu discuss the finances of his church. He was not a member of my church, but was chairman of the committee on finance in a neighboring Episcopal parish there. He said: “I’m almost ashamed to put it this way: but if we could get every man in our church to give to the church an amount equal to the cost of his smokes, we’d put over our program with an oversubscribed budget!” And he frankly told his fellow members just that. When we budget our personal accounts, the church should figure, and not in a niggardly way, in our reckoning.

2) Another way in which we can draw the line is to do it in impulsive fashion. In a church in Edinburgh, a missionary was invited to preach on a Sunday morning. At the close of the service, noteworthy for the missionary’s able presentation, a man came to the minister of the church and said: “That was a capital sermon. I like that man, and I Like what he said. You might give him this” -- and he slipped a 5 pound note into the pastor’s hand.

It was a generous action. There is many an impulsive action that is good and ought not to be denied. The minister appreciated the giver’s motive. So did the missionary! But it was an impulsive action. If anybody wants to act, here, this morning, as that man did, I would surely not restrain him! To anyone who has the impulse to give generously to our church budget, or any portion of it, I would say “Blessings on you.”

Nevertheless, let this be said: the trouble with impulsive giving, unless it be but the beginning of sustained support, is that it is apt to be occasional, spasmodic, ill-proportioned.

The most effective giving is thoughtful, methodical, systematic; not dependent on the mood of the moment.

The British statesman, Gladstone, had this to say in a letter to his son: “In regard to money, as well as time, there is a great advantage in its methodical use. Especially is it wise to dedicate a certain portion of our means to charity and religion, and this is more easily begun in youth than in after-life. The greatest advantage of having a fund of this kind is that, when we are asked to give, the competition is not between self on the one hand, and charity on the other, but between the different purposes of religion and charity with one another, among which we ought to make the most careful choice.” And the great statesman ended his advice to his son with this observation: “It is desirable that the fund thus devoted should not be less than one tenth of our means.” His biographer relates that Gladstone’s account books show that he lived this advice to the letter, and beyond.

By comparison, consider the idolater ironically described in the Book of Isaiah. He cuts down a tree. He uses some of it to make a fire to warm himself. Part of it he uses for cooking fires. Then, being warmed and fed, he sees the remnant, and makes of it the image of a god - an idol. To this he bows down, saying, “Deliver me, for thou are my god.” A god made out of leftover firewood!

Impulsive giving is apt to be capricious, ill-proportioned, fitful. Too often it depends on what is left over when other concerns have already had their share.

3) We can draw the line, neither in niggardly fashion nor on the impulse of a moment, but in generous, wholehearted, glad and worthy fashion. If our Christianity is undiluted, our commitment is almost without limit. Then, as we prosper, so do we spend and share, save and give. It may be that, for you, the question is less “where to draw the line” than as to whether to draw a line at all. For there is a certain adventure and abandon in self-dedication, like fighting with no heed to the wounds; like labor without watching the clock or the reward except to feel that one is doing God’s will.

Some of the most distinguished Christian character is found among those who spend themselves recklessly to meet the needs for human help. It is a question whether the one who lives with cautious care that he may live a long life of limited service can be to men as if Christ himself were among them. Our spiritual Savior gave everything of himself without regard to time or amount.

In battle, a soldier knew that his friend was lying forward, wounded. Shells were falling all around. But he asked his superior officer for permission to go get the wounded man. The officer gave him permission to go, but added, “It isn’t worth it. Your friend must be dead, and if you go over there you will be wounded or killed yourself.” But the soldier went, hoisted his friend to his shoulder and brought him back to the line. He was severely wounded himself and his friend appeared, by that time, to be dead. The officer said, “I told you it wasn’t worth it. Your friend is dead and you are badly wounded.” “But it was worth it, sir,” said the soldier, “because when I got to him he was alive, and he said, ‘Jim, I knew you’d come.’”

How can one explain the giving of selfless, wholehearted, dependable character? Does not the answer lie in this: there is challenge inseparably associated with privilege?

Once a person begins to realize how much he has received in friendship, in rights of citizenship, in freedom of conscience, in liberty of worship, in what the fathers have called “the means of grace” -- the church, the word of God, the sacraments -- he knows he is under obligation to make some sort of self-giving return. He does not accept thoughtlessly what has been done for him. There is blood on countless privileges that he enjoys. If he has a sense of honor, he lives his life in a big, generous, expendable way.

There is challenge inseparably associated with privilege. Take our church. It is a privilege to worship in such a place of dignity and dedication. We ought one day to make this sanctuary yet more beautiful and assuring for all who come here. The majority of us had nothing to do with erection of this building, yet it is our advantage to be able to worship here.

It is a privilege to have part in the work done here -- children introduced to the fundamentals of right living. This year’s budget calls for more to be spent on the educational facilities, class room needs, lighting, and so on, than we have spent in years. We got behind on this. And even this is not enough. We ought to oversubscribe the budget in order to make more of it possible, now.

As we look beyond ourselves, we see vast needs which we can help to meet. The friends in Christ, who labor in their own way and in their own place, need the assurance of our friendship through what we call missionary gifts and personnel, and through relief and reconstruction at home and abroad. That is what we mean when we speak of our Christian world mission. People move swiftly in this age. Half of the folk living in a given spot in our own nation today did not live there 10 years ago. New communities grow so swiftly that whole areas of population have no church except in the hearts of individuals. They need churches, both congregations and buildings. A sober estimate of these needs, places our own denominational responsibility at not less than 333 new churches in the nation, not 15 years ahead but now. Yet our revolving loan fund is all in use, and a couple of dozen requests for loan help have already had to be turned down.

Our denomination believes the least we must raise, as responsible Congregational Christians, is 4 1/2 million dollars for the Building Fund in the next two years. Our fair share of that is nearly $2,400. So we propose to raise it in two annual budget requestings of $1,200 each for 1953 and 1954. We will oversubscribe it if we catch the vision!

The other ministries of our church may be expanded swiftly, as we give more for secretarial assistance, for children’s work, for plant repair and improvement, for new equipment. I can tell you some very desirable and needed items, if any of you are moved to extra gifts of gratitude after you have pledged your regular giving.

Will this budget be raised? Knowing you as I have learned to do, I think it will be -- every last cent of it. I even dare to hope that it will be oversubscribed. I believe with all my heart it can be. If all members of this church and congregation were determined to give even 5% of their means to this church and its Christian world mission, we would double or treble this budget easily.

I trust that we will draw no niggardly line, nor yet a flashy, impulsive line; but that we will recklessly, joyously raise the line in the determination of each one.

In an English church there is a striking epitaph. Long ago a Cavalier soldier had sold much of his property and given a great deal of his money to the Royalist cause (as did many colonial families to promote our colonies’ revolution in later times.) Then he was killed in a battle against the Roundheads. His friends paid tribute to him in these words: “He served King Charles with a constant, dangerous and expensive loyalty.”

Shall we not serve our King in a greater Cause with the same type of self-denying service? Freely we have received; freely let us give -- not till it hurts, but till it makes us feel glad. For the Lord loves a hilarious giver! And the gift, in His service, multiplies as it works.

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Dates and places delivered:

Wisconsin Rapids, November 16, 1952