11/8/59

Scripture: I Timothy 6

Text: I Timothy 6: 20a; “O Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to you.”

A young Lutheran girl over in Minneapolis has put down with youthful vigor some of her ideas on this subject of helping others with varying kinds of “gifts” and services. Let me share with you the freshness of her approach when she says:

“I don’t know about you, but I seem to be on everybody’s mailing list. I receive stamps, stickers, coupons and courtesy cards from every organization under the sun. Although the letters accompanying these ‘gifts’ appear to differ one from another, they all have the same gloomy message: ‘Dig deeper, chum -- unless you come across, this organization folds.’ Frankly,” she says, “I think it would be a fine thing if many of these organizations did fold.”

The girl goes on at some further length saying: “Maybe I’m stubborn, but I don’t like to be coerced into my benevolence. I have a strong suspicion that here are others like myself. And furthermore, I don’t think it’s quite cricket. And further than furthermore, I have it straight from the Bible that when we give alms, we are not to sound a trumpet before us; we are not to let our left hand know what our right hand is doing. Real Christian giving is an unselfish thing, not looking for rewards.”

This girl goes on to observe that so long as people are people, they are going to organize into desperate groups for the purpose of shooting out desperate letters, because there are desperate needs -- all over the world!

“But I shall persist,” she says, “in believing that God’s method is higher and better; each person, knowing in his heart how much he owes to God, and out of his thankful heart, giving here, there everywhere, quietly and joyfully. It says in Ephesians that we are to walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” [Ephesians 5: 2].

Then she concludes with a final, youthful thrust: “The giving problem is simple for the person who walks in love - desperately complicated for the one who knows nothing about the love of God.”

Well, it appears to me that Betty Carlson, (for that is the girl’s name) is hitting pretty hard on one facet of the very thing that we mean when we talk about “stewardship.” Some people have a rough, and comparatively unhappy time over the sharing of their time, their talents, their service, their enthusiasm, their money. Others seem to find there the very breath of life itself. What makes the difference?

Is not the difference to be found in one’s attitude toward life itself? If one regards his life as his own exclusive possession and prerogative; his time as essentially his own; his abilities as his own endowment; his money as exclusively his own property; he is really wrapped up in self. There is not much of any other field wherein to look for life’s satisfactions.

But if one regards, first of all, his very life as a gift from God; his time, talents, abilities as a trust in his care’ his money as an administrative challenge to use as one would use the “tools of creation;” then does not life take on real meaning?

Among those who were going to a laymen’s retreat, were a couple of men who fell to discussing stewardship. This was to be one of the subjects under consideration at the retreat, and they were giving it a bit of advanced consideration. One said to the other, “What is this stewardship that people are talking about? What does it add up to in daily living? Where does it gear into the average man’s life?” The other said, “I wish I were a bit clearer on that myself. These fellows we’ve been seeing here seem to have got hold of something that means a lot to them. They say it is what the church needs to make it strong; it is what the nation needs to make it survive. One fellow puts it this way: ‘I have something that God can use.’ Some men have to have a lot of pulling and pushing to get them to give time and talent and money, for instance, to the church. But then fellows give gladly, hour after hour, dollar after dollar, and they have fun doing it! I wish I knew the secret of what they have found.”

Well, what had been found, by the fellows whom these two were noticing, was the principle of a dedicated life in giving!

In the first place, stewardship is something not demanded of us, but rather something that confers an honor upon us, that clothes people with dignity and meaningful vocation. If we love God, because He first loved us, we become His stewards, his trustees, because He has first conferred upon us a great trust. He entrusts us with things, with facts, with powers, with ideas and ideals -- the raw materials with which our lives are built. These are given to us more than “earned.”

This is true of our physical, and mental and spiritual powers. It is true of the laws by which our work becomes productive. It is true of the might and majesty and mercy to be found in nature. It is true of the hand of Providence in history. It is pre-eminently the gift of God in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

All these powers and materials and aids are given, not earned. They were here when we came. They will be here when we go on. We are the inheritors and users of these assets for the time being. We are not sole owners. God entrusts us with free action. He commits to us the “tools of creation,” and some freedom to advance -- or to damage -- the plan of the creator. The acceptance of so honorable an entrustment becomes a high privilege. It is not a matter of demand, or pressure, and appreciation leaps to glad responsibility.

Now we have talked of stewardship in theoretical and theological terms, that which make provision for the continuous flow of our gratitude to God, and our responsible concern for our fellowman. Let us see if we can be a little more specific in our talk of stewardship. Christian stewardship has been defined as “the practice of systematic and proportionate giving of time, talent and possessions, based on the conviction that these are a trust from God, to be used in His service, for the benefit of all mankind, in grateful recognition of Christ’s redeeming love.”

The plan for Christian stewardship is simple. (1) First, one commits himself to God. This may have been done repeatedly. One was perhaps first committed in his dedication by his parents in Christian baptism. Then, one day, he confirmed that dedication for himself in assuming the responsibilities of church membership. Or, again he re-dedicated himself in the communion service or in some other act of worship. Or there may have been some other circumstance. But he commits himself to the goodness and the will of God.

(2) Then, in acknowledgment of his stewardship, he sets aside some definite, worthy proportion of his income, his time, and his talent to be used in the good works that bear the imprint of Christ’s spirit. This does not mean that one assumes freedom to do as he pleases, or whims, with the rest of himself and his resources. For he still holds himself accountable to God for all of his life. But it does assure a regular, and continuous, flow of gratitude to God, and service to one’s fellowman.

Some may say that this proportionate giving of time and talent and substance is a mechanical kind of device since all that we are, and have, belongs to the Lord. But they are mechanical, or legalistic, only in the sense that the production of a harvest, the restoration of health, the building of a home, or establishing a character are mechanical. These require the regular observance of some rules of living. Proportional giving is making a choice, sealing a covenant, keeping a purpose, fulfilling a priority out of love to God and concern for His children.

Let us examine, once more, the attitude out of which our stewardship arises. You recall that account in the book of Luke, of the story which Jesus told about a Jewish man who, while traveling, fell among thieves, who beat him, stripped him, robbed him, and left him helpless and half dead by the roadside. A Hebrew priest and also a Levite came by and saw him, but passed by on the other side of the road. It was a Samaritan, a “foreigner” so to speak, who stopped, gave first aid, took the wounded man to an inn or hotel, and arranged for his care. [Luke 10: 30-37]

I once heard Dr. Charles Reynolds Brown preach a sermon on the philosophies of living represented in that story of the wounded Jew and the good Samaritan. There is the philosophy of the robbers. It is still evidenced by thieves. “What is yours, is mine. I’ll take it if I can!” An amazing amount of the tragedy of the world is due to the covetousness of those who live by this philosophy: “What is yours, is mine. I’ll take it if I can.”

The seriousness of this attitude is seen, in extreme form, in the numbers of bank holdups and other crimes of violence against property. In 1943, there were 20 bank holdups in this country; in 1953, there were 137! Not alone in such crimes of violence, but in the more orderly means by which many scheme to “take it away” from the other fellow is this attitude seen in all its naked ruthlessness.

But that first century story told by Jesus has another philosophy apparent. The priest and the Levite who passed by on the other side of the road, even though they saw the wounded Jew, seemed to operate on the philosophy: “What is mine is mine. I’ll keep it.” They were both religious men, but they hurried on their own way without stopping. Their money was their own; their time was their own; their lives were their own. They were not going to risk trouble or inconvenience.

This is, of course, a popular philosophy. “What is mine is mine. I’ll keep it.” It’s my wage envelope. It’s my salary. We built this business. We did it the hard way. The earnings are ours. The dividends are ours. Is it your business, or God’s or anybody else’s what we do with it? All this stewardship business is “sob sister” nonsense. We’ll keep what we have!

Well, that is a real enough attitude for almost any of us. But as you try to think it through, ponder, I beg of you, the words of the Bible, “We brought nothing into the world, and it is certain we can take nothing out.” [I Timothy 6: 7] Therefore it must be extremely important what we do with what we have, while we are here.

The great Austrian violinist, Fritz Kreisler, received some fine fees for his masterful playing on the concert stage. And it is said that he gave away practically all that he earned. When he was asked about this, he would say: “I am entitled to no more credit for being able to play the violin than a fish is entitled to credit for being able to swim. These are talents God gave us. We are born with them.”

What is mine is not solely mine. If I hoard it all for myself, I sin against life itself. For life is an interdependency. I receive benefits from countless others. And countless others depend upon me for my benefit to their well-being.

But all who have read Jesus’ story of the Jewish victim and the Good Samaritan have perceived another philosophy -- which appears to have been commended and practiced by the Master himself. It could be put in these words: “What is mine is ours; we’ll share it.” Now this is no impractical, misty-eyed dreamer philosophy. It does not mean that one who has control of goods and influence and services must promptly split them with the first “pan-handler” that comes along; and his remainder with the second pan-handler and so on until it is he himself who has little or nothing to work with. It is far more responsible than that!

This Samaritan of whom Jesus spoke had compassion on the victim beside the road and, because he had what it takes, gave assistance to put the victim on his feet again. And it is the compassionate ones of our day, or of any day, who are willing to adopt the motto, “What is mine is ours; we’ll share it” and to put aside each week a proportion of their time, talent and resources for making effective the program of their church and its mission, for keeping up essential colleges and special schools, for founding and maintaining homes for the blind and the aging, for research in the many humanitarian pursuits, for relief of the poor and the distressed who must have a helping hand.

Paul closed his first letter to the younger Timothy with the admonition, “O Timothy, guard well what has been entrusted to you.” Part of guarding well that with which we have been entrusted is to use it is responsible sharing. This might be called a banker’s religion. Some banks are called trust companies. It is part of their job to oversee property interests that are held by one person for the benefit of others, to keep them intact, and at useful work. The banker also cares for money left with him on deposit. No bank simply hoards the money left on deposit until the depositor want it again. The account is kept intact. But it is also kept in service. The only way the banker can keep the account intact is to put the money at the service of people!

One of the things our Lord had to say about this stewardship of the resources entrusted to us is illustrated in his story of three men, with each of whom a deposit was left for care and administration. One put his rather large sum to work in investment and it grew until it was doubled. Another, with smaller, but still substantial deposit, did likewise. But the one to whom the smallest talent, or deposit, was entrusted just buried it and held it without usefulness, until the master’s return. This last steward was severely rebuked in our Lord’s story. “You wicked and slothful servant! You ought to have invested my money with the bankers.” [Matthew 25: 14-30]

The truth and the gifts with which we have been entrusted are to be used! The person who acts upon the truth which he knows, and who puts into service the talents and services and substance which he possesses, is the one who earns the Master’s commendation, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Now as always, we need to be bankers and trust officers of the great living tradition of Christian truth and sharing, heeding Paul’s words to Timothy, “Guard the deposit!” And “guarding the deposit” does not imply hoarding it for self or for anybody else.

[This next section was excised from the later delivery date]

[A recent visitor to several of the well-known medical schools of our country is Dr. Tom Dooley. You may have read in a popular magazine (Reader’s Digest, I think) of his exploits in bringing medical help to multitudes of needy people in southeast Asia -- people in whom he became interested during wartime service. That able young doctor is a fiery evangelist with a great message. Now he has only a few months or a year to preach it, for he has himself an incurable disease that will soon terminate his life. But his appeal to medical students is that they go to that part of the world where the need is so great and the help so lacking, for their two-month work as student clerks. His organization is called “Medico”, and his appeal to medical students is something like this: “You fellows may have entered training for medical careers for the money or prestige which the profession seems to involve. But this is what medicine is about! -- the relief and prevention of human suffering!” And this is a form of sharing to which medical students are said to be showing a remarkable response.]

A couple of generations ago, a young couple gave themselves to the founding of a church-related college in Missouri. The work required a tremendous amount of vision, energy, and love, for that college was to be a place where young men and women could go who would have to earn part or all of their way as they went along. Students literally built some of the college halls and tilled the farm that provided food for their table while they studied. And all of it was done in a definite Christian atmosphere. Years after their death, a son was writing of their life and service. He was addressing himself particularly to the now numerous descendants of this couple. He pointed out that the end of their lives is the beginning of the service to be continued by these descendants. This is the inheritance they have received.

The couple left nothing over which heirs could squabble. They never held personal title themselves, to a plot of land in their lives. The houses they occupied were not theirs except to use in making a home for themselves and their children and many other children. “They never had a dollar which they called exclusively their own, though they administered thousands of dollars committed to their care.”

But through all their lives, they aspired to a better way for that whole college community. And all they had was “shareable” in responsible fashion. Today’s needs are just as acute though perhaps in differing ways as were the needs of those pioneering families and their contemporaries. And the resources we have may be made adequate to tremendous advance if we use them, administer them, share them, as good stewards of that which we hold certainly not by piracy, nor even by the virtue of earning alone, but above all as a gift, a trust from God.

[This last section was added for the second hearing of this sermon]

[Story -- build a beautiful church here]

We have built a beautiful church home here, and lovely surroundings have been created. But the church is people -- people who recognize the Lordship of God; people who are dedicated to living with each other and with many others in the spirit of Christ; people who are responsibly cooperative in their spiritual freedom; people who are good stewards of the benefits entrusted to their lives.

Let us, by God’s grace, by our dedication, and by our sharing, build here a “beautiful church.” Amen.

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Dates and places delivered:

Wisconsin Rapids, November 8, 1959

Wisconsin Rapids, November 5, 1967