11/10/57

Scripture: Genesis 26: 17-25; 28: 10-22.

Text: Genesis 26: 25; “So he built an altar there and called upon the name of the Lord, and pitched his tent there. And there Isaac’s servants dug a well.”

The Scripture which was read this morning involves two episodes in the same family. The first had to do with Isaac and his search for places to settle, for a time, where his household could live and care for the flocks of sheep. The second had to do with an experience of the younger of his two sons. Jacob, urged by his mother who definitely favored him over his older brother, Esau, had deceived his then-aged father, Isaac, into giving him the paternal blessing and family power. He was fleeing from the quick and murderous wrath of his brother. Stopping for the night, he had a dream which emphasized the truth that, though he was running away from family for a while, he was not running away from God. He arose in the morning, constructed an altar, and remembering that he was still receiving the necessities of life, vowed that he would give to the Lord a tenth of all that should come to him. Such giving, in due time, became a divine law unto responsible Hebrew people, and carried over to the time of Jesus.

In contrast with this Old Testament concept of giving as a divine law, however, the New Testament describes giving as a “grace,” a voluntary matter, a test of sincerity and love -- which of course, it had been with Jacob in the first place. New Testament giving is a privilege that is universal, belonging, according to ability, to rich and poor. Its rewards are joy, increased ability, increased thankfulness to God, and glorification of the gospel.

Now let us return our thoughts for a few minutes to the father of Jacob, while Isaac was still a younger and more vigorous man. He was looking for a place where his wandering, sheep-herding, tent-dwelling household could settle for a while --- where sheep could graze and find water. He had his men dig a well on the site where there had been one earlier. They found water, but the neighbors who had been there before Isaac claimed it, and fought with Isaac’s herdsmen for it. So Isaac moved to another site and had his men dig another well. The same thing happened. When for the third time they struck water, there was no strife, and so they stayed.

At the 25th verse of the 26th chapter of Genesis, we read that Isaac “built an altar there and called upon the name of the Lord, and pitched his tent there. And there Isaac’s servants dug a well.” Most of us, like Isaac and his household, are in search of a fuller, richer, more successful and satisfying life. We don’t want to stay on life’s margins and fringes. And we desire to move into central, abiding realities.

This ancient Hebrew, Isaac, centered his life on three things: (1) his work (he dug a well for his flock and his family; (2) his home (he pitched a tent; and (3) his worship (he erected an altar). It is a pretty fair trinity on which to concentrate!

1) First, (to reverse the order in which Isaac’s concerns are mentioned), there is our daily work. The Protestant artist, Rembrandt, has a painting of Jesus driving money changers from the temple in Jerusalem. And (of all things!) the artist places a halo around the hand which holds the scourge! The thought is suggestive -- a halo around the hand! Does not God wish to sanctify the work of our hands? Should our work have a sacred meaning and purpose? The Lord certainly put plenty of it here for the sons of men to do!

An all-too-prevalent idea is that work is a curse; that if you’re smart, you won’t really have to work. But there are a host of folk who can testify to the zest for work, whose dread is unemployment, and who have learned the blessedness of their occupation.

The Master was a worker, with daily work to do

And he who would be like Him, must be a worker too;

Then welcome honest labor, and honest labor’s fare,

For where there is a worker, the Master’s man is there.

2) A second thing in this text from Isaac’s story, which offers suggestion for more abundant living, is the sharing of a home. Isaac pitched a tent. It would be hard to name the source of more abiding satisfaction than participation in a Christian home. It is no secret that far too many folk are not finding happiness at home. And this is an old story.

King David was bringing the Ark of the Lord to Jerusalem after a hard campaign. In a frenzy of victorious joy, he danced before the Ark in celebration. Then he ordered a sacrifice and a public feast. After the feast was over, he headed for home where his wife, Michal, had (unknown to him) been watching from the window. She hadn’t liked what she saw, and she was caustic. Her first sarcastic comment was ominous: “How the King of Israel honored himself today!” One thing led to another until they had quite a quarrel going! Not much joy or satisfaction there! [II Samuel 6: 12-23].

Of course human nature is volatile stuff. But most normal people who will consciously try to bear and forbear, to understand and to love; who will seek through tolerance, forgiveness, understanding, and surrender of all haughty pride, can build a Christian home that grows in grace and Godliness and satisfaction. Some of the same traits come into play in the larger home of the human race. We are badly in need of more practice in the whole field of human harmony.

3) A third thing suggested by our text, as the way to abundant living, is an altar. Isaac built an altar -- a place of worship. As a matter of record, he built an altar first. He gave religion its rightful place in his life.

There is a short story in the 73rd Psalm about a man who went to church depressed. The experiences of his life were eating away at his faith. He was getting cynical. He could see arrogance prospering; crooks appeared to him to be the only ones making money; injustices made him bitter. He wasn’t enjoying life much! But, having come to church, he came out a different man! His faith was restored; he had polished up his ideals; his morale was lifted. His envy and jealousy and doubts shrank, and he was at peace with the world and glad to be alive. Worship made the difference to him between “wearisome task” and “joyful living.”

Others have found it so through the years. There is health-giving power in worship. And, as a people, we need this healing power! Our world appears doomed and damned, apart from God. It is not enough to seek political and economic salvation. We need to be a people seriously intent on religious experience and living. Perhaps some sermons continue to their ending without any specific suggestions as to what to do. This one will not!

I shall not presume to tell you what your precise attitude is to be toward your work, though I have dared to point a way. I shall not presume to point to any particular problem in your home, though I am willing to listen and counsel with those who do bring problems to me. On this Loyalty Sunday I shall not tell you the amount you must give to maintain your altar. But I do intend to suggest something of what your gifts mean.

Here is our annual budget running into some thousands of dollars for the maintenance and work of our church at home and abroad, in its world mission. This budget has been worked over by a representative, responsible committee. It is approved by vote of church members as the tentative budget for 1958. It represents a modest increase in some categories. Though the overall asking is not increased, it will be fully subscribed, or over-subscribed only if numbers of people will make a substantial increase in their dedicated individual pledging. We have lost, by death and removal, a number of substantial and devoted givers. The torch of their generosity must be picked up and carried forward by the rest of us, joyfully assured that the work must go on, and with increased effectiveness.

We all need reminder as to what our giving will accomplish. Well, let the answer be, partly, in a few isolated instances.

1) Part of our money goes abroad for the steady, persuasive Christian witness in what we have called “foreign fields.” It is a service that is fast changing, in that native national leadership takes over in many locations, with mission interest assisting rather than directing work. But human need, of body and soul, still cries out for the Christ-illuminated good Samaritan! Listen to this story:

A crowded trainload of refugees from communist dictatorship pulled into the freight yards of a free nation. A tired woman, who had all her remaining earthly possessions wrapped in a big kerchief in one hand, with a baby in the other, sought the help of a mission doctor. The baby was dying of diphtheria. It was already getting blue-faced and breathing by gasps. The doctor took one look and said, “You’re too late.” She said: “I came as fast as I could.” She had walked nearly a hundred miles and had ridden that freight car for 200 more. Her husband was dead.

Again the doctor said, “You’re too late.” “Is that your only answer?” “Well, there might be one chance in a thousand.” “Why not take it?” “Well, all right.” In the operating room they inserted a breathing tube in the child’s throat and gave it all the antitoxin they had -- about half of what would be used here in the United States. And the youngster started getting better!

A couple of days later, the mother was pestering the busy doctor again. He thought she was still worrying about the child. “I tell you, the kiddie is going to be all right. Don’t worry. Run along.” She said, “Are you too busy to look at me?” Examination revealed that she had a malignant lump in her breast. An operation the next day removed it. And she too recovered.

The doctor took a little of his rest time to figure, with a pencil, what it had cost to pass on the mercy of God to those two; the baby cost “4.67 in US money; and the mother cost $16.50 -- a total of two lives for $21.17. Not a bad use of a few missionary dollars, is it?

Some of our missionary money goes to benevolent purposes in our area. Most Christian denominations lend some support to the American Bible Society. (And of course that Society needs a lot of other support besides!) A blind person wanted a Bible in Braille so that he could read it himself. Someone in his church wrote to the American Bible Society and found that a Braille Bible could be had for $5.40, list price. And so it was ordered, and a blind person was made happy with it in all succeeding days. What was not said then about it is that the cost of producing and distributing that Braille Bible is ten times the list price -- close to $54. The difference is made up by voluntary contributions. Isn’t there a real satisfaction in reaching out beyond ourselves through the mission item of our giving that we call “benevolence” to give the friendly hand to uncounted folk in a wide variety of ways in Christian service?

Of course the largest part of our budget is to be spent, as in past years, for our own current expenses; maintaining the church on this particular corner in our community. If it is not particularly dramatic, it is nonetheless solid service. We try to maintain a service to all ages and all sorts of needs. We might not for years measure the service resulting from our church school, or our morning worship, or our circles, or Pilgrim fellowship or laymen’s group. But I am now and then astonished at some word of appreciation for what the church has meant, coming form someone who recalls with gratitude what occurred to him or her in the church years ago! People are helped for years to come by this fellowship that is good, and that must constantly become better! Isaac dug a well; he pitched a tent; first and foremost he built an altar!

Now a word about our attitude in giving. It has long been apparent that the finest church work is maintained substantially by those who are willing to be good stewards. And stewardship is something bigger than money-raising, however important that is -- something bigger than supporting causes, important as they are. In the words of the late Dr. Warren Dennison, stewardship “is the Christian philosophy of handling possessions that God entrusts to us.” How do we evaluate, subordinate, acquire, use, spend, save, give our money, and dispose of its residue at the end of life? There are right ways and wrong ways, Christian and non-Christian ways to do all these things. Stewardship is a way of life.

A steward is one who, while enjoying the friendship and confidence of the owner, administers his property faithfully in the owner’s mind and spirit. Stewardship is not a trick plan to get money; it is not mere generosity; it is not even increasing one’s giving by a certain percentage; nor is it another name for offerings, collections, budget goals. It includes such things as these. But it is much more. It is an attitude of life, having to do primarily with man’s relationship to this wonderful world of things and possessions. It is acknowledged by setting aside, for God’s primary purposes, a first, definite, honorable share, before using any of these possessions for ourselves. And it impels the use of the remaining portion as a sacred trust for all other purposes. A man’s life does not consist in the abundance of things which he possesses. But things and possessions are the scaffolding on which to build life.

Our giving is not primarily to meet, on Monday morning, the obligation of the church to fuel dealer, insurance company, staff members, and repairmen. It is a holy act, like laying our gift in the pierced hands of our Christ. To withhold one’s gift would be like withholding one’s self from him. Giving is an act of worship. And it is personal for each one of us.

Our giving, in a spirit of stewardship, does something important for the giver. This is not to speak of the accomplishments of giving -- what it does for causes -- but of the human values that it liberates and develops. A gift does something to the giver. It makes him worse or better: it may be either. “Must I give again?” or “I just must give again!” The emphasis is, much more than upon the amount, on the proportion, the spirit, the method. If our giving is niggardly, unsympathetic, grudging, or forced or thoughtless or too small a share, our lives will portray similar characteristics. But if our gift is from gratitude, devoted hearts, sacrificial spirits, we may hope to grow characters of strength and purity. The accomplishments of giving depend less on the gift than on the giver.

It is a mistake to regard giving as “an expense” for we tend then to make it as small as reasonably possible. What we give to religious causes is less an expense than an investment -- the best that one can make!

“What shall I give?” What does your conscience say? Your sense of what is right? Your good judgment? Your intelligent loyalty to God? Your consciousness of your stewardship of life, time, possessions vouchsafed to you by the creator? Let our giving be “as the Lord has prospered us.”

And let us gladly underwrite, completely, the Christian service which our church proposes to render during the coming year.

Will you turn to page 4 of your morning calendar and follow, silently, while I read the prayer there, making it (or something like it) the prayer of your own heart.

[“I will remember thee ..” etc.]

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Delivered in Wisconsin Rapids, November 10, 1957.

(Loyalty Sunday)