Born to Be Generous

John 3:16

November 8, 2020 • Mount Pleasant UMC

Twelve years ago, fall 2008, Cathy and I bought our first iPhones. We missed out on the very first one—believe it or not—and when the iPhone 3G came out (yes, “3G” was the second phone, it’s confusing), we talked for quite a while about whether we wanted to jump in at that point or not. I recall the conversation very clearly; I was describing the features of the phone to Cathy, and she was nodding along until I mentioned one feature in particular. GPS. Global Positioning System. We had not, up to that point, purchased one of those GPS units for our cars, but the fact that it was on the phone piqued my wife’s interest. You see, Cathy is—well, some call it being “directionally challenged,” but I usually say she’s “directionally impaired.” I kid you not—one time we were staying in a hotel and every time we left the room—every single time—she turned the wrong way when we came out of our room into the hallway. So she fell in love with the idea that her phone would be able to point her in the right direction. And while twelve years with the iPhone has certainly opened her to many other things this “smart” phone can do, I think it’s still the GPS that is the most valuable to her.

How did we live before GPS? Well, yes, we used paper maps. Anyone else use those “triptych” things from AAA? My brother and I loved following along with those when we were on vacation. There was something satisfying about flipping over each page and then counting how many pages were left until we reached our destination. Whatever you use, in our journeys, it’s helpful to have something giving us direction, making sure we arrive at our destination. In our Christian journey, we sometimes talk about the Bible as our GPS, the “map” for our journey, but a lot of times we’re not quite sure of or clear about the destination. Or we think that our destination is heaven, the kingdom of God. But that’s not it. Think about the story we’ve been living in the last four weeks; if the “destination” for the children of Israel was really the Promised Land, then why did they wander around for forty years? They knew where it was; they had almost entered it once before. But the destination wasn’t really the Promised Land. The journey was about God making them into his people. Their destination was becoming more like him. And Jesus is doing the same thing in and for us. Our destination is Christ-like character; that’s the point of being his disciples. Heaven, eternity in God’s kingdom, is just a bonus. The goal is becoming more like Jesus. So here’s the reality: we were born for more than what we settle for; we were born to be like Jesus.

This morning, we’re doing something unusual: focusing on a single verse from the Gospel of John. It is, arguably, one of the most famous verses in all of the Bible, maybe the most famous verse. No one holds up a sign that reads “Habakkuk 2:20” in the end zone of the football game. But they do that with John 3:16 because this verse contains the very “essence of the gospel” (cf. Barclay, The Gospel of John, Volume 1, pg. 137). It’s one I memorized way back in elementary Sunday School, and maybe you did, too. It’s a verse that can serve as a mini-GPS for our Christian lives because it describes a God who is generous and calls us to be so too.

This verse comes in the context of Jesus’ nighttime conversation with a Pharisee named Nicodemus. John tells us Nicodemus was an important religious leader and that he served on the Jewish ruling council (3:1). There are a lot of things going on here, but it starts with Nicodemus having questions—questions he can’t answer on his own. He is intrigued by Jesus, but he’s also very conscious of the fact that the ruling council didn’t like Jesus. Being seen with him could be damaging to Nicodemus’ career. So he comes by night, and he and Jesus talk about what it means to be “born again.” This language doesn’t make sense to Nicodemus (does he have to go back into his mother’s womb and do it all over again?), and if we’re honest, it doesn’t sense to any of us until we’ve experienced it, until we begin to allow Jesus to make us into new people. So Jesus and Nicodemus have this back-and-forth conversation.

Then, John preaches. John’s Gospel was the last one written. He’s had many years to think about the story of Jesus, so when he tells a story he will then take a moment to give a little theological reflection. The challenge in John 3 is that we don’t really know where it starts. All those punctuation marks in your English Bibles? None of those are in the original Greek text. Ancient Greek doesn’t have punctuation. In older Bibles, the red text (also not in the original) runs all the way to the end of the chapter, but most scholars today agree that John’s remarks begin in verse 16, though some believe it begins at verse 13 (cf. Card, John: The Gospel of Wisdom, pg. 60). Either way, in our focus verse this morning, John is reflecting on what this Gospel means. Let’s say these familiar words together again: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

Most translations, including the King James in which I learned this verse, have the beginning of that verse this way: “God so loved…” as in “God loved the world a whole big bunch.” It actually would be better translated something like this: “For God loved the world in this way” or “This is how God loved the whole world…” (Wesley One Volume Commentary, pg. 649). How did God love the world? By sending us a gift—by sending us his son. God loved us by being generous—and “generous” is an understatement, especially in light of the whole story John is telling about a Savior who came to give his very life in order to save sinful humanity from themselves and from their sin. The Gospels are really a narrative of Jesus’ death and resurrection with really long introductions. They are narratives of God’s generosity. God loved, and so he gave—he gave the greatest gift of all (cf. McKenzie & Miller, The Generosity Challenge, pg. 13).

If we, then, are created in the image of God, as the Bible says that we are (cf. Genesis 1:27), and if one of the core characteristics of God is generosity, then that means part of our destination, part of the character of God we are called to become like, is generosity. We were born to be generous; it is part of our DNA as human beings, to give and share. Author A. J. Jacobs learned this was true. In his book, The Year of Living Biblically, Jacobs describes his attempt to follow the Bible as literally as possible for a full year. Now, Jacobs says he is a Jewish man in the same way Olive Garden is an Italian restaurant, but in terms of belief he is agnostic. He doesn’t really know if there is a God or not. So some of the Biblical rules were easier to follow than others, but one Jacobs found particularly challenging was the command to tithe—to give away ten percent of his income. He described the experience as “painful.” To give away ten percent meant he would have to scale back on his vacations, his purchases, and so many other things. A tithe, he said, was a “huge amount.” “When I pressed ‘send’ on the donations,” he wrote, “my palms got wet, my heart rate spiked.” That’s the fear kicking in that we talked about last week: that fear that we won’t have enough, the desire to hoard what we have, the cultural temptation to worship at the altar of money.

Anyway, Jacobs said, despite that fear, it was also very satisfying to receive acknowledgements back from the organizations he had donated to. Listen to how he described it: “As I gave away money, I think I might have felt God’s pleasure. Which is odd. Because I’m agnostic. I don’t know if there’s a God or not, but still I felt some higher sense of purpose. It was like a cozy ember that started at the back of my neck and slowly spread its warmth through my skull. I felt like I was doing something I should have done all my life” (qtd. in McKenzie & Miller 14-16). Generosity is built into our DNA; even an agnostic Jew knew that. God loved and God gave so that we could love and we could give. God gave to show us the way to be generous.

So why do we struggle so much with generosity? Why is it so hard? Because it is hard. As you heard Dwight share a bit earlier, the last few years around here haven’t been smooth sailing financially. Yes, many of you have stepped up, especially during this pandemic and during the quarantine times, and we’ve had enough, our bills are paid, but we’ve also had to cut some things we ordinarily would have paid, including our tithe to the Annual Conference, and some other aspects of ministry that we would have loved to have done haven’t happened. There’s an old story about a preacher who told his congregation, “The good news is we have enough money to do everything God has called us to do. The bad news is it’s still in our pockets.” Here are some numbers for those of you who like such things. Today, the average American Christian gives 2.5% of their income to all charities; only 32% of that giving goes to the local church. That means, for those who do the math, the local church gets 0.8%—less than a percent. Now, here’s the really staggering statistic for me. About a hundred years ago, during the Great Depression, when people were making very little if any money, giving for the average American Christian was 3.3%. In other words, when we had less, we gave more of what we had. And since 1990, in the last thirty years (basically the time I’ve been in full-time ministry), giving to churches has dropped 50%. Cut in half (https://pushpay.com/blog/church-giving-statistics/). We want the church to do more with less. Now, I know times are challenging right now. Some have found their lives turned upside down, some have lost jobs, but these statistics are all from before the COVID pandemic hit, and I think they really speak less to our financial situation and more to our heart situation.

In 1973, Merriam-Webster Dictionary added a new word to their lexicon. The word was “affluenza,” and it referred to a disease that won’t physically kill a person but will tear up your spiritual heart quite a bit. Affluenza is described as the effects, both psychological and social, that affluence has on a person. The symptoms of this disease include extreme materialism, consumerism, the pursuit of wealth and success above all else. The side effects, often very prominent, include chronic dissatisfaction, debt, overwork, stress and impaired relationships (cf. McKenzie & Miller 16-17). Or, here’s another definition of this affliction given in 1998: “the bloated, sluggish and unfulfilled feeling that results from efforts to keep up with the Joneses.” It’s the insatiable desire to acquire more stuff, more things, more money, more of it all. Some of you remember how, after the 9/11 terrorist attacks in 2001, one of the things we were told to do to “defeat the terrorists” was to go out and buy things, spend money, defeat the evil with the American way of life. In other words, we were to act like everything was normal by giving in to affluenza. In addition to that, we’re about to enter the time of year when affluenza is most apparent, when we spend more than we make on gifts and parties and preparations so that we can celebrate the birth of a baby who was born in a barn, laid in straw and grew up in poverty. I’ve already heard people wringing their hands, wondering what the pandemic will do to Black Friday. How will we ever be able to get out and shop in the midst of our current situation? We suffer from affluenza even when we’re not aware of it.

And it affects our ability to grow in the image of God. Jesus said it was hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. He put it this way: “I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (Matthew 19:24). There used to be tour guides in Jerusalem who would tell travelers that there was once a narrow gate called “the needle’s eye” and to get through it, camels had to be unloaded of all their stuff, all their cargo. It’s a great story, but there’s never been any archaeological proof for it. Besides, I always wondered, why would the camel bother? Just go through a different, wider gate. There were and are plenty of them around Jerusalem. No, I think the point Jesus is making is pretty clear without having to resort to some mythical Jerusalem gate. It’s impossible for a camel to fit through the eye of a needle, and it’s impossible for us, if we hang on to our “stuff” and our “things” as the most important things in our lives—it will be impossible for us to enter God’s kingdom because those things have become more important to us than becoming like God (our true destination). Which reminds me of another old preacher story, of the man who figured out how to “take it all with him” and when he died, he entered the pearly gates carrying a trunk. St. Peter asked him what was in it, and the man assured him it was very important to him. Peter opened the trunk, and inside he saw gold bricks. Peter looked at the man and said, “You brought pavement?” Affluenza causes us to think that the stuff is the most important thing and we miss the real message of the Gospel: God loved, God gave, God calls us to be like him. We were born to be generous.

Here’s the question that maybe we need to wrestle with: is my “stuff” “owed me,” or is it a gift? The difference in attitude between “dues” and “gift” is enormous. John is quite clear that what God gave, what Jesus came to bring, was pure gift. It was not and is not something we can earn or deserve on our own. And the only appropriate response when something is a gift is gratitude. Even science agrees because, like generosity, gratitude seems to be built into our DNA—or at the very least it’s good for us. Several studies have been done that show benefits to gratitude, such as better sleep, less aggression and depression, increased happiness, self-esteem and resilience. (Sounds like our culture really needs a dose of gratitude, doesn’t it?) And, according to one study, gratitude even reduces our aches and pains; we feel healthier when we are grateful (cf. McKenzie & Miller 30). God’s not surprised by any of that; he made us. And he knows that the “cure” for affluenza is to be more like him, to become generous by being grateful for what we have. So, next week, we’re going to talk more directly about generosity and how it applies to our church, but this week I want to leave you with the first part of the Generosity Challenge: to develop an attitude of gratitude.

Yes, it has been a rough year, and no we’re not through it yet. I told you last week there are a lot of things I don’t know, and I’ll add one more thing to that list today: I don’t know when all of this will be over. We may have rougher waters to go through ahead yet, I don’t know. But I do believe we can still be grateful through it all. We can practice gratitude even in the midst of a pandemic, in the midst of economic challenges, in the midst of family stress. What do you have that you can be grateful for? This week, I want to challenge you to find three things every day to be thankful for. You can write them in your journal if you do such a thing, you can put them on social media (and if you do, be sure to tag the church, the tag is on the screen), you can tell someone over coffee—in fact, make it an adventure to see how many different ways you can share your gratitude. Another way to approach this is to make a point to thank the people you come in contact with this week, especially those who help you in some way. A few weeks ago, when I went to get my hair cut, the person who was attending me said she had had two people yell at her about COVID masks that day. She recognized me as being a pastor and made sure to get me as her client because she knew I would be nice to her. Wow, the pressure was on then! But it’s amazing what a difference a kind word and a “thank you” can make in a person’s day. So thank the person who bags your groceries, a former teacher, the custodian at work or school, the person who waits on you at the restaurant, the lawn care people, the cashier, and—here’s something radical—your spouse or kids! When we begin to see everything as a gift from God, even the things other people do for us, our hearts begin to change, our hearts become grateful, generous. So before we talk about pledge cards next week, I challenge you to practice gratitude all week long.

Katherine Wolf went from California model to wheelchair-bound patient in a moment when she suffered a massive stroke on April 21, 2008. She lost the ability to walk, talk clearly and care for herself, and in that sort of situation, as probably most if not all of us would do, Katherine sunk into despair. Eleven surgeries and daily fights to regain her strength led her, more than once, to feel like giving up. When Thanksgiving came, seven months after her stroke, she was deep into questioning God and feeing despair as she watched her husband play with their son, doing things she could not do but wanted to—things she might never be able to do again. She wished, honestly, that she would have died with the stroke. And then, she says, God stepped in and reminded her that he makes no mistakes, that he was working for her good even in this, and that all she had to do was trust him. He still had a calling on her life (cf. Lucado, You Are Never Alone, pgs. 64-66). There, in the midst of Thanksgiving preparations, Katherine Wolf found an attitude of gratitude and that changed everything. Her situation didn’t change, but her heart did. You see, our problem is not a matter of finances. It’s a matter of the heart when we forget that we were born to be generous and born to be grateful. Let’s pray.