Today is the first in our stewardship sermon series: Journey to Generosity. Today’s title is “Ask” but it could also be titled, “The Sermon on the Amount.”

Pastor J John tells a story of a man at a factory pushing a wheelbarrow out the gate. Inside the wheelbarrow is a box. The security guard at the gate stops him and asks what’s in the box. The man says, “Well, it’s sawdust. I need some for a project I’m doing at home. At the end of the day, we have sawdust all over the floor and I just collected some and am taking it home.”

“Okay then,” says the guard. “Open up the box.”

He opens the box and it’s sawdust. This happens again the next day. And the next. And the next. Finally on Friday, the guard says, “You again!”

The man says, “Do we have to go through this again? It’s sawdust in the box.”

The guard says, “You’re stealing something, I can’t help but feel that you’re stealing something. If you just tell me, I swear I won’t report you.”

“Okay,” the man says. “I am stealing something. I’m stealing wheelbarrows.”[1]

We can get so focused on the little things, we miss the big picture. We can get so fixated on the wrong things that we miss the whole world happening around us. It’s not about the box with sawdust. It’s about the wheelbarrow.

In the church, we can get focused on the wrong thing. We tend to think of stewardship as just money. But that’s just the sawdust. The whole picture is much broader than that. It’s time, talent, and treasure. God is after our whole self. Everything we do should point to God. Yet I know that this can cause some pause. We don’t want to commit so fully to something.

In today’s scripture, Jesus has some harsh words for the religious establishment. “Do whatever they teach you and follow it but do not do as they do for they do not practice what they teach.” Those words haunt me as a pastor. I cannot in good conscious ask you to do something I am not also doing. So Kate and I tithe 10% of our income to the church and other charities that are important to us. We give of our time and talent here at the church, showing up to work alongside you and teach and together experience God and grow in our relationship with Christ. We are in this together. I don’t do this for the fame, the power, or the titles and praise. I do it because other good people have poured into my life and have helped me in my relationship with God and neighbor. I give because I believe that this is one of the major ways that the world changes; just showing up and being in authentic community with all our joys and concerns. I am called.

In 2006 before I was a pastor, I was stuck in a traffic jam on the DC Beltway. My commute should have taken 40 minutes, but this was the second hour in a 4 hour traffic jam. I was feeling pretty frustrated and miserable. The worst part is, I felt I had no reason to be. I was sitting in a new Ford 150 quad-cab, a company truck. I didn’t pay for the gas in the tank, the company did. I was leaving a job that paid well to a kid fresh out of college. I had a generous commission package. Work was going well, I was managing a branch that had an initial inventory gap of $6,000. That was a lot of tools and fasteners to be missing. After my first quarter inventory, that gap was around $500. The second quarter it was around $5. My final inventory was off around 10 cents to the positive. I was good at the job and we were seeing results, but something was missing.

I used my company cell phone to call my mom. We talked awhile and I told her how miserable I was on the highway. “You know, I always thought you were going to be a teacher. You wanted to be a priest for a while until you learned that they couldn’t marry.” That was new information… Hmm…

I hung up and didn’t know what to do. The present was unsustainable, the future was cloudy and I get this information about my past. I prayed and as soon as I decided to pray, I heard a voice. “Feed my sheep.” Great, now I’m hearing things. No, I don’t want to. Who am I to feed them? Yet the voice said again, “Feed my sheep.” And that was it. I knew I wouldn’t be told a third time. I had all these questions, How? Why? What is the way forward? Like become a pastor or a sheep farmer, could you be more specific? But I knew what that meant.

I called my minister. I told him what was going on and he said, “As soon as I saw you I thought, ‘This guy is going to be a minister.’ There is a call on your life. This is your call experience. Tell me, what was your favorite job that you’ve ever had?”

I really enjoyed being a resident assistant at Ohio U. I loved helping people. Helping them find resources and clubs to join. I loved the sense of community we had on the floor and getting to know people and their stories and see how they developed and discovered themselves.

“Well, that’s what I do,” my pastor said. “I am sort of like a resident assistant for adults. But listen, if you can do anything else in the world, do it. Be a teacher, a sales guy, an author… go do that. This is the hardest job in the world. You are either called to do it or you burn out.”

I have been ruined since that day. I can’t do anything else. I have discovered that a calling is something that you do whether you get paid for it or not. I’m lucky to find a job where my calling and passion meet. For my brother in-law, his passion is being outdoors. He loves nature. He’s a bow hunter, so this is his season. His job will always just be something that funds his call and passion of being outside. Maybe for you, you are somewhere between these polarities. Martin Luther is reported to have said, The Christian shoemaker does his Christian duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes, because God is interested in good craftsmanship. What marks Luther’s doctrine of vocation is the insistence that the work is done in service of the neighbor and of the world. God likes shoes (and good ones!) not for their own sake, but because the neighbor needs shoes. I was so focused on making money that I missed the bigger picture of doing something that I love and helping other people. I was only focused on the treasure, I missed the time and talent part. I missed the needs of my neighbor.

Since then I’ve given of my time. I spent three years in seminary and seven in ministry. I am trying to hone my talents to the benefit of the church. I like writing, art, and stories. I’ve been using those to preach, make bulletin covers and social media graphics, and encouraging you to tell your stories. And the treasure that I’ve found in doing this is beyond compare, and I want to give to sustain this ministry and mission of this place for future generations.  I have found my call, and we have found each other.

I have a sense that we’re energized and excited about one another. We are charged up, we’re ready to roll. We’re excited to encounter God together in new ways and talk of our life together and do good work in our community, nation, and world. Yet Christ’s words from today’s scripture echo in my ear. I must confess that I have a vested interest in your giving patterns. It feeds my family. It is my livelihood. It is our staff’s livelihood, and I want to take care of our awesome staff. While I’m hoping for a budget that’s in the black, I’m also not in this for the money. I’m in this because I believe in the mission of the church. The money is just the box, it’s the whole wheelbarrow that I’m interested in. It’s about our life together in Christ, it’s about spreading the good news of Jesus Christ by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the prisoner and healing the sick.

I believe in us. It’s why I think of our life together so often and God and I talk so much about this ministry. It’s why Kate and I work and give of our time, talent, and treasure. Stewardship is about all three. It’s not about power, wealth, and fame. It’s not about comfort. I was comfortable before I was a pastor and making 3 to 4 times what I am making now, but I was miserable. I was disconnected. I didn’t feel like my work was meaningful to my community. I felt empty inside and like I wasn’t making a difference. I am built to be a pastor. You might be built to be a teacher. Or a banker, or a bow-hunter who funds their passion by working at a car-parts desk.

Not matter where you are on your journey of life, I am asking you to join me on this journey of faith for the next year. To really commit to it. It’s not about whatever small thing we’ve been focusing on. It’s not about the box… it’s about the wheelbarrow.

Each of you bring so much in your wheelbarrows. You are gifted, you have talents. You know what they are. Or maybe you’re looking to hone and build and discover some new gifts. Let’s talk! You’re looking to serve, you’re not looking to be exalted. We have all sorts of feeding and mission programs here. Let’s talk. Many of us make above a living wage. May we give of our treasure so that others can be given the chance to thrive and prosper.

Sometimes you just have to be asked. So I’m asking… will you accompany me on this journey?

[1] https://youtu.be/vAjFshgbV6I