10^th Sabbath after Pentecost

August 3/5, 2007

Victor H. Nixon

WHAT ABOUT MY MONEY?

Matthew 6:19-21

I was ten years old when I realized that my family didn’t have a great deal of money. I know that seems rather strange, but it’s true. We weren’t destitute; we had everything we needed. Dad had a good job at Ft. Chaffee. Mom worked part-time at Uncle Walter Andrew’s grocery and general merchandise store. We had a comfortable home that Dad had built himself and gradually improved over the years, from "four rooms and a path," as my uncle once described it, to five rooms and a bath and other much-needed additions.

There was plenty of food, much of which came from our garden and farm that was canned or placed in the smokehouse or freezer. Our clothing was adequate with nice Sunday outfits and jeans for everyday, sometimes with patches to cover holes worn in the knees. My mother would not have allowed me to leave the house with holes in my jeans in the fashion of today. We entertained ourselves by playing with neighborhood kids or a game of cards with grandparents or listening to the Green Hornet and Sergeant Preston and Yukon King chase crooks on the radio.

Every Sunday we went to Sunday School and church where Dad was the Church Treasurer for a number of years. Before leaving for church he always wrote out his weekly offering check to Lavaca Methodist Church. He placed the check in his shirt pocket where I could see it. The check was always for a strange amount, like $9.23. Why not just an even $9, or $9.25? Later, I realized that the amount was an exact tithe, ten-percent of his modest income. My brother and I were also expected to tithe any earnings we received from picking strawberries and boison berries or other odd jobs. I figured that if God got 10 cents and I kept 90 cents out of every dollar that was a bargain! So, despite our modest circumstances we lived well. We had each other. We were blessed and, for the most part, content.

In my tenth year we bought a Zenith television set on which we received one snowy channel from a Ft. Smith station 15 miles away via a bow-tie antenna on a pole beside the house that sometimes had to be twisted one way or the other to improve reception. Life changed after television—some of it good, some not so good. For one thing, TV largely replaced radio as an entertainment medium, so that was the last of the Green Hornet and Yukon King for me. We didn’t play outside or inside as much, so it affected socialization in the neighborhood and communication within the family. My perspective changed as I became much more aware of the world beyond my hometown, seeing Presidents Truman and Eisenhower address the nation and Governor Sid McMath address the state, viewing news clips of the Korean War and the Little Rock racial crisis from our living room as announced by Walter Cronkite, Chet Huntley and David Brinkley. Television was an engaging, eye-opening electronic phenomenon for me.

With television came visual commercials for every kind of product imaginable from appliances to candy bars, cars, cosmetics, clothes, and other attractive things, some that I had never seen or experienced, all being enjoyed by beautiful, happy and successful people. I became aware of an emerging void in my life because there were so many wonderful things I longed to have so I too could be handsome, happy and successful. I began to buy into the basic lie behind our culture of consumerism. It was all made worse because I was becoming a teenager during those years when it was important to be hip and cool, drive cars with fender skirts and chrome wheel covers, wear pink shirts and my hair flat on top with ducktails in the back like teenagers on American Bandstand.

Some of this was just a common teenage rite of passage, but it was much larger than that: something was happening inside of me that had to do with changing attitudes about faith, values and money—a struggle at the heart of our culture, regardless of income or station in life. My needs and wants were becoming greater than my income and God’s 10 cents on the dollar was increasingly used for my purposes. God got whatever was left over, if anything.

Jesus is so right in our text for today from the Sermon on the Mount: "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also," That’s the bottom line in the text for today. Questions are implied: What is your treasure? Where is your heart?

Look more closely at this important saying. The word "treasure" refers to something or someone of great value. We all have our treasures, small and large, objects we value, property, bank accounts and stock portfolios. Children, grandchildren and friends are described as "treasures." When Jesus used the word "treasure," as when we use it, he was speaking about that to which we attach great value.

Hebrews used the word "heart" to refer to the organ as well as to human will and emotions, just as we do. The difference is they believed that the heart was the seat of emotion and will. Experientially, it makes sense. When you are "heartbroken" the sensation is so strong you can actually feel pain in your chest. When you become excited at a Razorback game or fall in love, your heart races. We know that emotion and will originate in our minds, albeit with definite physical effects. Yet, we still use heart language to express strong emotion, e.g. "I love you from the bottom of my heart." Hearts express love on Valentine’s Day.

So, in this scripture Jesus placed two strong, descriptive words together. "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." It means that what we really, really want can be found in the same place as that to which we attach great value. Locate my treasure; you’ve found my heart, what I really love or desire.

It’s comforting to know that folks in Jesus’ day had some of the same "heart" problems we have, namely, that they treasured the wrong stuff too and their hearts were in the wrong place. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have bothered to address the universal condition of misplaced human hearts with his first disciples in the Sermon on the Mount—and Matthew wouldn’t have recorded it and I wouldn’t be talking with you about it.

My own personnel struggle with the relationship between faith and money continued for several years into adulthood, especially following college, early years of marriage and graduate school and seminary. Freddie and I were rich in love and poor financially. We had a child. There was educational debt to repay, basic needs to be met, and—yes!—lots of wants. We managed, by the grace of God and her splendid bookkeeping to begin establishing a proper relationship between faith and money, by treasuring God first and beginning to tithe our income to the church, "storing up treasure in heaven," as Jesus put it.

Stewardship, for me, begins with the affirmation that all I have belongs to God and that I am called to be a good steward of whatever I have, including my money, my property, my investments, and my family and relationships. Just as our spouses and children are gifts of God to be treasured, loved and cared for, so everything we have is a gift from God to be valued and cared for wisely. When I am able to affirm that everything belongs to God, then my treasure and my heart are together in the right place.

Giving too is a matter of the heart. Deciding to make God the first priority where my money is concerned is the hardest part. After that, it becomes surprisingly easy to budget and plan for basic needs, for savings, and for wants. I hasten to add that financial planning is very important. Failing to plan financially is a plan to fail financially. We are called to be good stewards of our money, to use it wisely, carefully and beneficially. John Wesley had it right: "Earn all you can. Save all you can. Give all you can." There’s nothing wrong with making money—whether a little or a lot—to care for basic needs and wants. It’s certainly smart to save some of it for rainy days, the kids’ education and retirement. But you shouldn’t stop there—if your heart is in the right place—because giving is the very best part about money.

When the church needs it, I will continue to ask you to give because I believe our church is about the most important venture in human existence: providing opportunities where Christ changes human hearts through faith and teaches us to love God and one another, to welcome others into our family, and to reach out to those in need. This is the heart of our mission that is supported by our individual treasures for which I am very grateful and pledge careful accounting for every penny. When you are asked to give and cannot due to financial crisis, I hope you will let me know and continue to participate in worship and ministries of the church so that your faith will remain strong through personal crisis. Church is not about paying dues. It’s about treasuring God, our mission and each other in good times and bad times.

Through the years, giving has become one of our greatest joys. Freddie and I give approximately 25% of our income to the church and other charitable causes in which we believe. One day I hope to be able to give 50% of our income for those purposes. In addition to providing for family, as Willing Friends of PHUMC Foundation we have tithed our estate to the church, and to our colleges and seminary, because we want our giving to extend beyond our lifetimes for the benefit of God and others. Because that’s what we treasure; that’s where our hearts are.

In Greek the word for "treasure" in our text also means "treasure chest." Matthew uses the same word in the story of the Magi who journeyed to Bethlehem, following the star, to see the Christ child. (Matt. 1:11) They arrived and were "overwhelmed with joy," knelt down, opened their treasure chests and offered wonderful gifts to the Christ child. We too journey together in faith and experience the same overwhelming joy when we open our treasure chests and share our gifts with God who gave us birth, who loves us, and who has gifted us with a Savior.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

+