Livestreamed service

Isaiah 43:14, 18-19
Romans 12:1-2
Matthew 22:15-22

        In keeping with the scripture passages we just heard, in keeping with my charge to preach a message about generosity and giving, in keeping with our congregational commitment to open ourselves to the new things God might be doing in and through our church, I wanted to begin this sermon with the story of some dramatic new project or transformational new perspective. Then I would talk about what it took to bring that new thing or outlook into being.

        Or so I thought.

        But the more I wracked my brain, the more I realized it would be near impossible for me to match the level of newness our faith calls us to invite, recognize, and embrace.

        In Isaiah, for example, God tells the despairing exiles that God is about to do a new thing. In the book of Revelation, the One sitting on throne says, “See, I am making all things new.”

        Now just one thing, but all things. Not just a new ministry or project, but a whole new way of thinking and seeing and being. Not something new and popular that will soon lose its luster, but something like the printing press or electricity, something like the concept of universal human rights, or—wait for it—something like the notion of a divine love that’s extravagant, transformative, free, and meant for everyone, something that will change everything for all time.

        It’s the difference between tweaking something and creating something entirely new.

        It’s the difference between a humanitarian pause in the Israel-Hamas war and the creation of side-by-side Israeli and Palestinian states where everyone lives in peace. It’s the difference between hate-crimes legislation and racial justice, the difference between emergency rooms that have to treat all patients and a health-care system that keeps people healthy, the difference between tax breaks for solar panels and the complete transformation of the fossil-fuel industry.

        It’s the difference between starting to take Venmo payments at the Cranberry Fair, as great as that is, and reconsidering how we think about money when it comes to funding our ministries.

        It’s the difference between thinking we can become better people by making a nominal contribution to the church that doesn’t really impact our lives and letting our whole lives be guided and shaped by the over-the-top loving, liberating, and transformative love of God.

        Not that there’s anything wrong with the former; in fact, the ministries of our church couldn’t function without your generosity. But what the all-in commitment to follow the ways of Jesus makes possible is an entirely different order of existence and experience. Making a contribution is something we do; following Jesus shapes who we are.

        And part of who we become as followers of Jesus is people whose hearts and minds, feelings and choices, priorities and paths are forever being healed and made new, formed and transformed by the extravagant love of God.

        And when that happens, giving becomes second-nature. The giving of our love, time, passion, attention, energy, and—yes—money, becomes who we are and how we live.

        When we choose to allow ourselves to be transformed and made new, the things we once did out of duty become both a source and an expression of joy. The things the once felt like an obligation become an almost unconscious outpouring and receiving of blessing. Our usual fear of not having enough is transformed by an awareness of blessing into gratitude and generosity. The common need to hold back and protect what we have is transformed by the grace of God and the healing love of community into a sense of belovedness and belonging that changes everything.

        Over time we find that, by the grace and transforming love of God, our giving and sharing and loving others just flows out of us. And, not only that, but it gives our lives meaning and brings us a sense of joy, contentment, and peace.

        Not suddenly, but over time, we find that we’re less anxious about what might happen and more excited about what could happen. The more we give ourselves over to love, the easier we find it to let go of some things that never were all that important anyway. The more we give ourselves over to community, the better we can see what is possible when, as we say in our membership covenant, we do bind ourselves together to walk together in all God’s ways, as they are revealed to us by God’s Spirit.

        As some of us know: The holy secret and sacred joy of the Cranberry Fair is that it is not just about raising money for the church. It is also about raising spirits, building community, and discovering what amazing things we can do when we do them together in love and generosity and with a common purpose. It is about seeing what amazing things can happen when each one of us gives some of our time, some of our talents and creativity, some of our organizational skill, some of our hospitality, some of our stuff, some of our willingness to be a part of something, and a whole lot of our love.

        It’s transformative. It’s generative. It’s joyful. It makes new things possible. And in that way it is a down-to-earth, somewhat goofy microcosm of the rich spiritual life that church makes possible. This analogy applies even to our giving: In the same way that purchases of a dollar here, a few dollars there, and a few silent auction items somehow add up to more than ten thousand dollars, our individual and family pledges to the church, inspired by love and Spirit, total almost enough to keep us loving and serving God, one another, and the world for another year.

        Beloveds, we are made in the image of God, whose essential nature is to give and bless and love, to heal and liberate, to call and empower, to  bring back together what has been torn apart, to find what has been lost, to make all things new. All that we are and all that we have is a gift from God, and the most important, the most essential thing we have to give is ourselves.

        We are made in the image of God, and we hope to live in such a way that God’s likeness is seen in and through us.

        As you prayerfully consider whether, and how much, to pledge to First Church Amherst for 2024, don’t let yourself be tripped up by the false dichotomy of what is yours and what is God’s. It’s all God’s, who knows your needs. Don’t let your life be limited by our culture’s carefully taught sense of scarcity and its corollary: that you will be happier, less anxious, and more fulfilled when you get more stuff.

        Instead, let your life and your well-being be transformed by generosity.

        Yes, we need your gifts to keep this amazing church going—not to keep an institution alive but to continue loving and serving and blessing our community. We need you to be generous. But we’re not afraid. We trust that God will provide, because we trust that God is doing a new thing—within us, among us, and through us. That even now, God’s love is making all things new.