And so it begins. I told you a few weeks ago when I was preaching about money that it wasn’t stewardship season yet, so don’t get anxious. Well, now it’s stewardship season and I am urging you still … don’t get anxious. Over the next few weeks you are going to hear sermons timed to coincide with an appeal for you to give to the capital campaign of the church. We are trying to fund improvements in our facilities and parking that will make our ministry more effective and make more room for those who are looking for a church like this one. I hope you will give. I hope you will give generously. But I hope you will not give to a capital campaign or a building program for a tax deduction; and certainly don’t give expecting anything in return—whether in goods or services (which would invalidate your tax deduction, don’t you know?!) or for the praise of people who might think you are really something special because you gave and might treat you differently because of it. As Jesus said, Even sinners do that. If you want to give like a saint instead of a sinner, you have to give expecting nothing in return. And to give that way means that if you give at all—whether you give a little or give it all—you must give only … as unto the Lord. And to do that, you will have to exercise a measure of trust.

Which leads us to Jesus’ words from the Sermon on the Plain in Luke’s gospel. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.

Hearing those words leads me to ask myself several questions. If I give expecting nothing in return, and yet Jesus says that if I give I can expect to be given to, even to get back so much more, then isn’t he talking out of both sides of his mouth? Isn’t he saying that we shouldn’t give expecting to receive and then that if we give, we should expect to receive? Okay, then, I want to know what a good measure is, and how do you measure a measure?

Our capital campaign theme is Measure by Measure. So you would guess I would pick this passage to kick off the preaching series on the theme. Of course, the word measure can be turned in many ways to mean many things. We are working on our choral hall, and you can imagine how a musical measure fits the song. We are working on our community hall, where we share our meals. A measure of meal or grain makes sense there. We are measuring our parking to see whether there is enough for new people. We are asking for a measure of fabric to add to the community tapestry. We are asking you to measure your giving. Not to give the same as everyone else, but to measure your part, which, when added to the measure of another, will make—measure by measure—all we need. And we are trying to grow our church through this process spiritually as well as numerically. We don’t think that growth should be done by leaps and bounds, but measure by measure. Measured changes last. There may be more meanings that Mark Wingfield can come up with, but for now let’s not get lost there. Let’s let Jesus find us where we need to be found.

The first place Jesus needs to find us has to do with this whole matter of expectation in giving. What does Jesus mean about expecting nothing and expecting everything at the same time? I think it has to do with a different definition of economy than the one we usually operate from. Most of the time we think of the world as a place of limited resources. There’s only so much to go round for everyone, and so everyone is competing for a slice of the pie, so to speak. We never imagine that the pie itself could grow. We never think of the world’s resources as eternally renewable.

This scarcity mentality is kind of like the little kids’ game of musical chairs. You remember how it works. There’s always one less chair than there are people, and so you go round and round the chairs until the music stops, and then you race for an empty chair. There’s a loser in every round. And in every round you remove another chair, until finally there are two people and one chair. At the end of this scarcity game, there can be only one winner. Almost everyone is a loser in the end. And if you were to give up your chair to someone else as an act of generosity, what good would that do? No one is going to give you a chair in return. You are still a loser.

But what if that’s not the way God’s economy works? What if you were to use an abundance model for giving rather than a scarcity model? What if you were to account for a creative God in the midst of all this? The God who made everything to begin with, out of nothing. The God who is able to do exceedingly abundantly more than we can ask or think. What if giving up a chair to someone you can see is noticed by Someone you cannot see who is capable of making another chair … or two … or three … for you ... for free?

What if, in other words, when you sit down to write a check that in your account ledger will look only like a debit, there is another ledger being kept out of your view that reads credit instead? Now, of course that might not mean that you will end up with more money than you started with. God might reward you in ways other than financial. But isn’t that okay with you? Isn’t money supposed to be useful for something other than just having more of it? What if, in the economy of God, you can’t buy anything important, but you can receive everything important only by giving?

I have a friend who struggles with how to get his young adult son to become financially responsible and independent. Some time ago, he lent his son $2,500 with a strict agreement that it would have to be paid back. His son finally wrote him a check for $2,500, and the dad stuck it in his wallet and didn’t cash it. Months went by, and realizing he hadn’t cashed it, he went to his bank and asked the manager if he would check on his son’s balance before he cashed it. The banker suggested he not try to cash it yet. The son had forgotten about it and hadn’t accounted for the uncashed check in his bank account. He had long since spent the money and didn’t have it in his account any longer. The dad has been walking around with that uncashed check in his wallet as a reminder to him of his son’s ingratitude. But recently, when the two of them were together and the father didn’t have any cash, the son tipped a valet $5. Dad said, Thanks, I’ll pay you back. The son said, No, don’t worry about it, Dad. I’ve got this one. And the father in that moment changed his view of the value of the $5 tip: it was suddenly worth $2,500. In that moment, the father was so happy for the smallest gesture of generosity from his son that he considered them even.

Imagine that this is the way a rich God measures the value of our giving. The God who gave us the world is looking for even the smallest gestures of gratitude from us. God is looking for ways to bless us that will always be disproportionate to our measuring and will always be in our favor.

This is where the second thing comes in. What is a good measure? How do you measure a measure?

Jesus’ words about pressed down, shaken together, running over, and placed in your lap come from the marketplace. Picture going to the Farmer’s Market here in Dallas. You want some green beans, and you bring your own basket to collect them. The beans are sold by the basket, and the basket will hold only so many beans when the merchant drops them in. But what if instead of getting by with that, the merchant takes his hand and presses down on the beans, then shakes them together to compress them and make more room for more? Then after giving you more than you expected, he puts your basket in your lap and says, Here, now, pull your shirt underneath the basket. And then he throws on another handful that runs over and lands in your shirt.

Get the idea? This is the way God wants to bless you. And giving is only one way. Look at how many other ways in this passage we can receive God’s blessing. If we love our enemies, if we are kind and generous to the ungrateful and the wicked, if we refuse to judge because God is the judge, if we refuse to condemn because only God knows enough to do that, if we forgive even those who aren’t sorry—all these are ways that we reflect the character of God. And when we reflect the character of God, we have a share in the abundance of the life of God.

There’s a story about two young boys, one mentally challenged and the other too smart for his own good. The smart boy figures he can easily take advantage of the intelligence difference between the two. He proposes a game. Let’s ask each other a riddle. If you can’t answer my riddle, you give me one dollar; and if I can’t answer your riddle, I’ll give you a dollar. The mentally challenged boy knows enough to see that this deal is bad for him. He counters, That wouldn’t be quite fair, since you are so much smarter than I. Tell you what. We will make the same deal, but if you can’t answer my riddle, you pay me one dollar, and if I can’t answer yours, I’ll give you fifty cents. The smart fellow figures he will still be a dollar and a half ahead, so he agrees.

The mentally challenged boy says, What has four legs—two on the ground and two in the air, and thirteen eyes? The smart fellow thinks and thinks. Giving up, he pays the other boy his dollar. What is the answer? he asks in exasperation. I don’t know, either, says the mentally challenged boy. So here’s your 50 cents.[i]

Some of us think we can outsmart God. We think we know how to measure things to our advantage, but we find in the end that we are the losers because we discover that we are the spiritually challenged.

Better we learn to measure the way God does. Which may be the way my friend Kenny Wood’s crazy uncle did. When Kenny was a boy, he always loved when his uncle would visit because the first thing he did was to settle up with his nephew. He’d call Kenny over and say, How much money you got? Let’s see. Let’s you and me empty our pockets. Well, maybe I should just show you how this worked. Can I get a boy or girl with some money in your pockets to come forward? Okay, now let’s empty our pockets. How much do you have? And how much do I have? Hmm, that’s not the way I count. Let’s see— you have five pennies and two nickels and three dimes … that’s ten. And I have three quarters and three dollars … that’s six. So that’s sixteen total. We should take eight each. Here, you take the paper ones and I’ll take the coins. Good, now we’re even. How’s that?

You see, maybe God measures differently from the way we do. What if we had a good measure of trust in God, so that whatever we give will be given back to us—a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over and put in our laps? How much do you really trust God with your money?

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