Everything is a Gift

Scripture: Psalm 24:1–2; James 1:17–18 Series: Held in Trust: Living Faithfully with What God Has Given Us

There is a word most of us learned very early in life.

You probably learned it before you could read.

You may have learned it before you could put together a complete sentence.

And if you ever raised children, you certainly heard it.

“Mine.”

Give two children one toy and eventually somebody is going to grab it, pull it close, and announce:

“Mine!”

My toy.

My chair.

My cookie.

My turn.

My room.

And the funny thing is—we don't really outgrow it.

The toys just get more expensive.

My house.

My car.

My property.

My money.

My retirement.

My time.

My church.

Mine.

Now, there isn't necessarily anything wrong with that word. We need to know what we're responsible for. We need boundaries. We need to take care of what belongs to us.

But then we open the Bible this morning, and the psalmist makes this rather inconvenient announcement:

“The earth is the Lord's and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it.”

And suddenly that little word mine becomes a little more complicated.

Because apparently, before anything is mine—

it is God's.

The earth is the Lord's.

Everything in it is the Lord's.

And just in case we thought we could find a loophole, the psalmist adds:

“…and those who live in it.”

That includes you.

That includes me.

Which means that the Christian life begins with a rather radical idea:

We are not really owners.

We are stewards.

We are caretakers.

We are people who have been entrusted with something precious for a little while.

And that is where I want us to begin this new series called Held in Trust.

Stewardship Isn't Where We Usually Start

Now, when a pastor stands in the pulpit and says,

“We're beginning a stewardship series…”

you can almost feel the congregation tense up.

Somebody is thinking,

“Here it comes.”

Somebody else is thinking,

“I knew we were going to talk about money sooner or later.”

And somebody is probably quietly checking to make sure their wallet is still in their pocket!

But I want you to hear me from the very beginning:

This series is not primarily about money.

We will talk about money because Jesus talked about money.

But stewardship is so much bigger than that.

God has entrusted us with time.

God has entrusted us with abilities.

God has entrusted us with relationships.

God has entrusted us with stories.

God has entrusted us with opportunities.

God has entrusted us with resources.

God has entrusted us with this church.

God has entrusted us with this community.

God has entrusted us with one another.

And God has entrusted us with the good news of Jesus Christ.

So we're not going to begin this series by asking:

“How much should I give?”

We're going to begin with another question:

“What has God already placed in my hands?”

Because stewardship doesn't begin with giving.

Stewardship begins with noticing.

The Coffee Cup

Think about tomorrow morning.

Nothing particularly spiritual.

Nothing dramatic.

You get out of bed.

You shuffle into the kitchen.

You make a cup of coffee.

And maybe you sit down at the table with that cup in your hands.

Most mornings we don't think much about it.

It's just coffee.

But imagine stopping for a moment and really looking at that cup.

Where did it come from?

Someone grew those coffee beans.

Someone planted them.

Someone harvested them.

Someone processed them.

Someone packed them.

Someone transported them.

Someone stocked them on a shelf.

Someone manufactured the cup you're holding.

Someone built the table you're sitting at.

Someone installed the electricity that heated the water.

And then go back another step.

Who made the rain?

Who made the soil?

Who created the sunlight?

Who created the seed?

Who gave human beings the minds and hands and strength to do all that work?

Suddenly, that ordinary cup of coffee sitting on your kitchen table becomes an enormous web of grace.

You thought you made the coffee.

And you did.

But you also received it.

That's true of so much of life.

We live surrounded by gifts we have stopped recognizing as gifts.

“I Worked for It”

And I can hear someone saying:

“Now wait a minute, Pastor. I worked for what I have.”

And you did.

Many of you have worked very hard.

You've gotten up early.

You've worked long hours.

You've made sacrifices.

You've saved.

You've provided for families.

You've built businesses.

You've worked farms.

You've worked in offices and schools and hospitals and factories.

You've served your country.

You've raised children.

You've cared for aging parents.

You've worked when you were tired.

You've worked when you didn't particularly feel like working.

There is dignity in work.

The Bible affirms that.

But faith asks us to go one step deeper.

I worked for what I have.

Okay.

But where did my ability to work come from?

Where did these hands come from?

Where did this mind come from?

Who gave me the teacher who taught me?

Who gave me the person who took a chance on me?

Who opened the door?

Who gave me another morning to get up and try again?

We work.

Absolutely.

But even our ability to work is wrapped in grace.

That doesn't diminish what you've accomplished.

I think it makes it more meaningful.

Because suddenly your work isn't simply something you did to acquire more things.

Your work itself becomes something God entrusted to you.

The Gifts We Stop Seeing

James says:

“Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above.”

I wonder how many gifts God gave you this morning before you ever walked through these doors.

You woke up.

Gift.

You took a breath.

Gift.

You heard someone's voice.

Gift.

You had clothes to put on.

Gift.

There was food somewhere in the house.

Gift.

You had another Sunday.

Gift.

You had a place to come where somebody knows your name.

Gift.

And some of the greatest gifts aren't things at all.

Someone who loved you when you weren't particularly lovable.

Someone who forgave you.

Someone who taught you.

Someone who believed in you before you believed in yourself.

Someone who showed up when everybody else disappeared.

Someone who sat quietly beside you when there weren't any words that could make things better.

Gift.

Gift.

Gift.

And perhaps there is someone whose voice you would give almost anything to hear one more time.

Even that memory is a gift.

The Growing Season

This is actually where our summer journey has been taking us.

For weeks we've been talking about growing.

Seeds.

Rain.

Pruning.

Butterflies.

Wildflowers.

Fruit.

Gardens.

Harvest.

Compost.

New creation.

We've spent an entire summer asking:

“What is God growing in me?”

And now the season changes.

The garden has produced something.

The harvest has come.

And every gardener eventually faces another question:

What am I going to do with what has grown?

Because a gardener can participate in growth.

We prepare the soil.

We plant.

We water.

We weed.

We prune.

We protect.

But I've never met a gardener who could stand over a tomato plant and command:

“Grow!”

You can do everything right and still recognize that something mysterious is happening beneath the soil.

There is grace involved.

The gardener participates in something the gardener did not create.

And so do we.

That's the bridge into Held in Trust.

We spent the summer asking:

“What is God growing in me?”

Now we're going to ask:

“What am I going to do with what God has grown?”

That's stewardship.

Look at Your Hands

I want you to do something this morning.

Just look at your hands.

You don't have to raise them.

You don't have to show them to anybody.

Just look at them.

Think for a moment about what those hands have done.

Some of those hands have held babies.

Some have planted gardens.

Some have turned wrenches.

Some have driven trucks.

Some have typed thousands of letters.

Some have cooked more meals than you could possibly count.

Some have changed diapers.

Some have repaired things.

Some have played instruments.

Some have folded bulletins.

Some have mowed lawns.

Some have served food.

Some have held the hand of somebody sitting in a hospital room.

Some have held the hand of somebody who was dying.

Some have wiped tears.

Some have folded in prayer.

Some are scarred.

Some ache more than they used to.

Some don't have the strength they once had.

But look at them.

Those hands tell part of the story of your life.

And somewhere along the way, God has placed something in them.

Not everything.

You don't have to do everything.

That's important.

But God has entrusted you with something.

And maybe that's enough.

Jesus Is Lord

Alongside this series, our Bible study is going to explore a very simple Christian confession:

Jesus is Lord.

Three words.

We've heard them so many times that we can say them without thinking very deeply about what they mean.

But if Jesus really is Lord, then those three words reach into every corner of life.

My calendar?

Jesus is Lord.

My relationships?

Jesus is Lord.

My abilities?

Jesus is Lord.

My work?

Jesus is Lord.

My possessions?

Jesus is Lord.

My bank account?

Yes, eventually we're going to have to go there too.

Jesus is Lord.

My retirement?

Jesus is Lord.

My future?

Jesus is Lord.

This church?

Jesus is Lord.

My life?

Jesus is Lord.

And if Jesus is Lord, then I am not the lord.

That's where stewardship begins.

It is the recognition that my life is not ultimately mine to possess.

It is God's gift to receive and God's gift to use.

The Closed Fist

Try something else with those hands.

Make a fist.

Not at your neighbor!

Just close your hand.

A closed fist is pretty good at protecting what's inside.

Nobody is getting what I'm holding.

It's mine.

But a closed hand has a problem.

It can't receive anything either.

You can't give.

And you can't receive.

Now open your hand.

That's the posture I hope we learn during this series.

Not guilt.

Not fear.

Not obligation.

Open hands.

Hands open enough to receive.

Hands open enough to serve.

Hands open enough to share.

Hands open enough to let go.

And hands open enough for God to put something new inside.

The Garage Sale

Have you ever gone through the house preparing for a yard sale or a move?

You find something tucked away in a closet.

And you think:

"Why do I still have this?"

You haven't used it in twelve years.

You forgot you owned it.

You didn't even know where it was.

But the moment somebody suggests getting rid of it, suddenly you say:

“Oh, I can't get rid of that!”

Why?

“I might need it someday.”

Apparently, sometime between now and eternity, we're going to desperately need that waffle maker we haven't used since 1998.

We laugh because we understand it.

There's something inside us that wants to hold on.

And sometimes we do that with more than possessions.

We hold tightly to our time.

Our routines.

Our preferences.

Our positions.

Our church traditions.

Our expectations.

Sometimes we even hold tightly to yesterday.

And Jesus keeps inviting us to open our hands.

Not because God wants to take everything away from us.

But because God knows that you cannot follow Jesus with a clenched fist.

Eventually discipleship requires trust.

You Still Have Something to Give

And I want to say something especially important here.

Sometimes as life changes, we begin thinking we have less to offer.

Maybe you can't do what you did twenty years ago.

Maybe your body has changed.

Maybe your circumstances have changed.

Maybe you've retired.

Maybe someone else is doing the job you once did.

Maybe you've had to let go of some independence.

And it's easy to begin thinking:

“I don't have much left to give.”

I don't believe that.

You may not have what you once had.

But you still have something God can use.

You can pray.

You can encourage.

You can listen.

You can tell your story.

You can welcome someone.

You can make a phone call.

You can write a note.

You can sit beside somebody who is lonely.

You can teach someone younger than you what took you seventy years to learn.

You can forgive.

You can love.

There isn't a person in this sanctuary who has nothing to offer.

There isn't a person worshiping from home whose life no longer matters.

There isn't a child who has to wait until adulthood before God can use them.

There isn't an older adult who has aged out of God's purposes.

God has placed something in every one of our hands.

So What Is in Yours?

And that brings us to the question I want us to carry through this entire series:

What has God placed in my hands?

Don't answer too quickly.

Maybe God has entrusted you with time.

Maybe wisdom.

Maybe financial resources.

Maybe a particular skill.

Maybe compassion.

Maybe influence.

Maybe a story.

Maybe an opportunity.

Maybe a relationship.

Maybe something painful you've lived through that now allows you to understand somebody else's pain.

Maybe God has entrusted you with more than you realize.

The question today isn't:

“How much more can the church get from me?”

That is not where we're starting.

The question is:

“How much has God already given me?”

And when we begin there, stewardship becomes something very different.

It becomes gratitude.

Everything Is Gift

So the first prayer of this entire series only needs two words:

Thank you.

Thank you, God, for another morning.

Thank you for the people I have been given to love.

Thank you for the abilities I still have.

Thank you for the experiences that shaped me.

Thank you for the people who taught me.

Thank you for the resources entrusted to me.

Thank you for this church.

Thank you for this community.

Thank you for the opportunity to serve.

Thank you for grace.

Thank you for Jesus.

And then perhaps we add one more sentence:

“Lord, show me what to do with what you have given me.”

Because the earth is the Lord's.

Everything in it is the Lord's.

Even we belong to the Lord.

So we don't have to spend our lives clutching everything tightly and whispering,

“Mine.”

We can open our hands.

We can receive gratefully.

We can hold gently.

We can share generously.

We can live faithfully.

Because everything is a gift.

Everything is grace.

Everything is held in trust.

And everything belongs to God.

Amen.