Maybe you noticed this, too: this past Thursday, it like summer. Now this weekend, it’s autumn! Given the choice, I’d always say hello to autumn - there are so many reasons to love this time of year. There is the early morning scent of turning leaves, rolling like mist from the mountain, the splash of color on the slopes of Tinker that speaks without words how God loves beauty. There’s Friday night lights from over the hill at LB, and a hint of pine from a chimney under a pale orange harvest moon. All mighty good reasons to love the Fall.

But in all my forty-some autumns, I have yet to meet the person who cannot wait for the “Fall Stewardship Campaign.” Maybe that person is out there, and if so, please come see me – we want you on the Finance Committee. Now please, don’t be alarmed - this is not an official Fall Stewardship sermon, as cringeworthy as those often seem. As I mentioned, this is the fourth of five Sundays spent reflecting on the essential practices of faithful churches. So far, we’ve considered the importance of radical hospitality, passionate worship, and most recently, intentional faith development. Today, we consider than when we find a fruitful, vital church, one on fire with the Holy Spirit for doing God’s work, we also find there a Spirit of extravagant generosity.

It’s not easy to say exactly why this is, but I think it has to do with the fact that in vital, spiritually-healthy churches, there are folks who have figured out that it’s just not possible to outgive our loving God, but even so it’s fun to try. These are believers who share because giving connects them to the Spirit of an extravagant God who gave to us first in Jesus Christ, and gives to us without ceasing. Thus, they become what Paul calls “joyful givers.”

I acknowledge that joy is often not what comes to mind when churches start talking about money. Sadly, a great many churches, of all stripes and sizes, are in sore financial distress right about now, and many are admonishing their members about how everybody needs to do her or his own share - or else. Now it isn’t that I think there’s anything wrong with the teaching that all should give as they are able. That is a scriptural wisdom. It’s just that to me there is often an undertone in the ‘fair share” approach that sounds like ringing the alarm bell: if you don’t dig deep, friends, little Johnny won’t be able to read the Bible in Sunday School. Hmm...that sounds a bit like a guilt trip to me. And even a hint of guilt seems pretty far from unalloyed joy!

When it comes to creating joyful Christians, those who actually love to give, I think these are the wrong chords to play. Those who speak of giving as a duty or a responsibility too can potentially miss the fact that giving is a symptom of the natural gratitude that those who have been given Jesus Christ feel. Too often, we’ve lost touch with the joy of giving, and talked about giving as duty, as a cause for pain, as in “give ‘til it hurts.” We somehow lost the ability to make a positive connection between generosity and joyful discipleship. How did this happen to us?

Not because people are stingy, as you might suppose! In fact, the most generous people I know are part of the community of Jesus Christ. You would not be here today if you were not willing to give of your time to worship the Lord – and time is a very precious and scarce thing these days! We worship with generous people. Praise and thanks be to God, St. Mark’s is not among the many churches in deep financial crisis right now. We are doggedly supporting life-changing ministries, giving generously to UMCOR disaster relief and Stop Hunger Now and the Botetourt Resource Center - because as times have gotten tough for so many, we have stepped up, not back! We are even dreaming of and planning for new ministries. We do so aware that many of our families have been touched by job losses - others, by a drop in sales, in portfolios, in incomes. But in a spirit of generosity, others among us have stepped up to do more, new givers have emerged, simply because we believe we can, and that God gifted us to do so at a time of need.

But back to our original question: why is there today an inability to make a positive connection between generosity and joyful discipleship? I think the problem lies in a basic disconnect: we have not been equipped to explain why we give in the first place. Why give? If we are not clear on that, we might as well go in for the spiritually-sterile “feed the budget monster” approach. Why make an offering unto the Lord, at all?

I’ve reflected on this just a bit, and here’s what I have come to believe: we who love Jesus just don’t believe we live in a closed system. That’s the view from a godless world, one in which ‘you pay for what you get.’ But if you believe that a good, provident God is alive and in charge, then you suspect there’s more to life than just trafficking in the world’s stuff. Instead, we believe that our lives, when well-spent, can be pleasing to the One who made us – that we can become an offering to God! We live in order to please God, to magnify the Creator and to enjoy the unfolding work God is doing in our lives, and in the world around us.

This is why we give - of our time and our wealth - not out of obligation, not grudgingly, but out of the conviction that God’s grace is working in our lives in ways we consider extravagant! That’s why when I hear someone say, “I am so thankful for the beautiful music that was part of our worship last Sunday,” or “It is a blessing to me to see the rail crowded with wiggly children for Karen’s message,” or “I am so proud that St. Mark’s sent four mission teams into the field last year, for the first time in our 40-year history,” I say ‘yep, I know what you mean!’ Those things bring me joy, too! Every day, I am thankful to be a part of them, to be part of this community, thankful that my family and I live in a place that radiates God’s power to change lives and offer hope.

Why do we give? We give because we believe God is at work in our world, and we love to see it. Our generosity enables us to be part of it. As we give, some of us have learned to ask the question, “what portion of my income might God enable me to give to this work, this ministry?” Whatever answer we reach, whether 2%, 10%, 5 or 7%, we are invited to grow in relationship to the God who breaks open the closed system of deficits and numbers and budgets, and deals in the currency of joyful hearts. Frankly, I think the percentage we give matters far less than the sincere consideration, the turning of the heart toward God. That’s why God said to Moses at Mt. Sinai, “receive an offering from all whose hearts prompt them to give” (Ex. 25:2). As our hearts are bent away from self-seeking inclinations toward Kingdom-seeking inclinations, we find that we take greater and greater pleasure in being part of what God is doing. That’s why Paul could say to the Corinthians, “God is able to provide you abundantly with every blessing, so that by always having enough, you may share abundantly in his good work” (2 Cor. 9:8). This is why it’s a cruel joke to say we’re supposed to ‘give ‘til it hurts’ - to the contrary, we’re supposed to give until it feels good, until it feels right to be part of something worthy, something that makes a holy difference.

We call this extravagant generosity - something bigger than managing money. True, no one is lying when they say that doing life-changing ministry takes money. But more than that the church needs money, we need to give. We need to recognize that we give so that others live - just as in the Church of Acts 2, some who cannot give are in seasons receiving. So it is with us - we who can do more, step up to do more - step up, not back. This is how we learn to live freely and extravagantly in a stingy world that could make otherwise make misers out of us. As we spend our money and our days, we are blessed as we grow in relationship to the One who is the source of all good gifts. I think that’s very good news, as summer gives way to autumn. But then it’s good news all year round.

“Thanks be to God for His indescribable gifts.” Amen.