II Corinthians 8:1-5

William F. Schnell

October 12, 2008

   I listened to a lot of sermons when I was an Associate Pastor of a church in Milwaukee where the Senior Pastor did most of the preaching while I served as liturgist.  One of his sermons was a real sleeper.  It took place on a Good Friday afternoon following lunch.  There we were on a warm spring day with our bellies filled sitting in church while the good Reverend droned on and on about something or other.  It was all I could do to keep my eyelids propped open.

   So in search of distraction I began to shift in my seat and look around at the small Good Friday congregation.  There in front of the pulpit dutifully sat the Reverend’s wife, fast asleep.  “Ouch,” I thought, “that must hurt.”  But then I noticed a lady sitting near her was also asleep.  So I leaned forward for a good look and, don’t you know, the entire congregation was sleeping in the pews—every single person.  Now you may think that, sitting in that sea of humanity, you are somehow hidden from the preacher’s view in case you nod off.  Au contraire!  As a former congregant, I used to think the same thing.  Not anymore!

   But I’ve really got to hand it to the preacher that day.  He kept right at it as if the heavenly host were hanging on every word, which they probably were.  You see, it was not the message or the limitations of the messenger that put everybody to sleep.  It was the surrounding circumstances that put them to sleep—the full bellies, the warm afternoon sun—all the makings of a good nap.  So you notice that we do not have any Good Friday afternoon services here because who would want to preach a solemn dirge under those circumstances?

   This is the thought that was going through my mind this past week while attending a preaching conference at my seminary.  Everybody was obsessed with the headlines about the post-bailout market tumble, using words like “panic,” “chaos” and “disaster.”  In one consultative group I was in,  the discussion centered on how we should address the crisis in our preaching for today.  Somehow the attention turned to me when someone asked, “What is your topic for this Sunday?”  I said, “We call this Sunday Loyalty Sunday because it is when we kick off our stewardship campaign.”  The looks on everyone’s faces could only be described as unmitigated horror.

   After the worst week in the Dow’s entire history (by any measure—points or percentage drop) asking people for money on this day makes preaching on Good Friday afternoon look like a cakewalk.  But the Lord works in mysterious ways.  I have been inspired by my former colleague’s devotion to duty in the face of adversity to soldier on.  Indeed, I welcome the opportunity to preach this Loyalty Sunday because we need to hear a Word from the Solid Rock that alone stands firm while all about us is shifting and shaking.  We need to hear from God’s Holy Word because it turns our normal perception inside out and upside down or, more accurately, right side up.

   Our normal perception in times like these evokes fear and uncertainty and gloom and grief.  We need God’s Word in times like these to evoke hope and confidence and peace and joy.  Is that possible in times like these?  We are going to find out today that it is as we turn our attention to our text from Paul’s second letter to the church at Corinth.  He begins: And now, brothers, we want you to know about the grace that God has given the Macedonian churches (Verse 1).

   Paul is seeking to inspire the church in Corinth with the example of the churches in Macedonia, specifically the Christian churches in the towns of Philippi, Thessalonica and Berea.  Paul is raising funds from as many churches in Asia Minor as possible for the Mother Church in Jerusalem, which had been persecuted terribly.  Paul felt no small amount of ownership for that persecution because, prior to his conversion to Christianity, he had helped start it by encouraging the stoning of the first Christian martyr after Jesus, Stephen—the disciple who was selected to replace Judas.

   Following that event the early Christian church at Jerusalem was so harassed that Christians were scattered throughout the Roman Empire, with the redeeming effect of congregating into new Christian churches wherever they settled.  Certainly much of Paul’s passion to plant these new churches was an atoning result of his prior life as a persecutor of Christians.  Another atoning result was the soft spot he held in his heart for the Mother Church in Jerusalem.

   That church was in trouble.  Its members were having their property confiscated, their ability to find gainful employment impeded and their basic needs going unmet—all because of their faith in Jesus.  So one of Paul’s big projects was to raise funds from the churches scattered around Asia Minor to offer relief to the poor, persecuted Christians in Jerusalem.  And like a good fundraiser, he tried to create momentum by encouraging one contributing congregation with the example of others.

   The only problem is that the churches to which he was going to raise these funds were suffering their own persecution for the sake of the faith.  And, as in the case of Jerusalem, persecution was hitting them hard in the pocketbook.  Paul describes the situation of the Macedonian churches to the church in Corinth as our text continues.  Out of the most severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity (Verse 2).

   Did you notice anything incongruous with that statement?  Let me read that again.  Out of the most severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty….  We do not normally associate overflowing joy with extreme poverty, do we?  Individually and collectively we have lost a lot of money the past couple weeks.  I haven’t seen anybody doing back flips about that, have you?  No, people are afraid to the point of panic.  One of the reasons I began this message with some seemingly unrelated humor was because I was certainly not foolish enough to take a stab at humor over the economic pain people are presently suffering.

   But we might ask ourselves why losing money is not all that funny.  Getting hit in the face with a pie is funny.  Why isn’t getting hit in the pocketbook funny?  I think some of it has to do with the pain that always attends the dispelling of our delusions.  One of our big delusions is the notion of self-sufficiency.  We’ve got enough to take care of ourselves.  We don’t need anyone else.  We are self-sufficient.  This is a very common delusion in a prosperous and privileged nation such as ours.

   Ever since Ann Womer Benjamin mentioned a book to me entitled: Bowling Alone, I have wanted to get a copy of it.  Indeed, I finally ordered one this past Friday.  The title is meant to communicate a tendency in our culture away from civic engagement and social connectedness and toward increasing individualism and social isolation.  Although the number of people who bowl has increased in the last 20 years, the number of people who bowl in leagues has decreased.  More and more people are “Bowling Alone.”

   Unfortunately this is also the trend for many other social organizations and civic associations.  Do you remember when fraternal organizations such as the Masonic Order were big, and the the shadow of their former selves that they are today?  Do you remember country clubs like the Aurora Country Club which just closed its doors because of the membership struggles shared by country clubs across the land?  So it goes for PTA’s, non-profits like the Red Cross and union membership.

   I have to be concerned about it because it also goes for churches from the smallest to the largest.  The Willowcreek Church in Chicago is the mother of all mega churches, leading a Willowcreek Association of Churches that numbers over 12,000 congregations.  The founding pastor of Willowcreek, Bill Hybels, has just released disturbing news about widespread dissatisfaction within Willowcreek in particular and the association in general.  And so it goes for more mainline congregations like ours, and Roman Catholic congregations and houses of worship everywhere in this land.

   It is not that the spiritual dimension of life is gone, anymore than bowling is gone.  People are just going it alone because, by George, they are self-sufficient and they don’t need anybody else thank you.  But self-sufficiency is a delusion.  We do need each other just as much as we need the guy who keeps electricity coming to our house, and the gal who checks us out at the grocer.  Indeed, we need each other for a whole lot more than that.

   Having our delusionary bubbles burst is a painful process.  It hurts.  It hurts to watch your net worth decline by 10, 20, 30, 40 percent with no clear end in sight.  It hurts to watch retirement plans go out the window.  It hurts to think your blossoming child might not be able to afford the next year at college.  It hurts to have basic needs like health care going unmet.  It hurts to admit that you are not self-sufficient.  Where is the joy in all that hurt?  How can the Macedonian churches experience overflowing joy and extreme poverty at the same time?

   You know that one of the redeeming aspects of having our delusionary bubbles burst is the discovery that reality is really much to be preferred.  Jesus said, you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free (John 8:32).  The truth is that we are not self-sufficient but totally dependent upon one another.  The reality is that we really need each other.  And the great good news is that together we can make it through anything.  That’s true security, and it makes delusionary financial security pale in comparison.

   Once we get through painfully dispelling our delusions, we enter the joy of a new reality.  The Macedonians did not stay stuck in their delusionary self-sufficiency.  No they came out of the most severe trial with an overflowing joy, and then some.  Out of the most severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity.  For I testify that they gave as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability.  Entirely on their own they urgently pleaded with us for the privilege of sharing in this service to the saints (Verses 2-4).

   The Macedonians realized that they needed each other.  Translation: they needed the Church.  They needed to be connected to one another and to God through the body of Christ, which is the Church.  And so out of their extreme poverty they joyfully gave beyond their ability, pleading for the privilege of sharing in this service to the saints.  And together they overcame the most severe trial.  Together they grew and prospered and ultimately conquered their persecutors—the supposedly self-sufficient Roman Empire itself.

   Now look, I don’t know if I can take away our pain with a single sermon.  I don’t know if I can dispel all our delusions in 20 minutes.  I don’t know if I can make everybody do back flips over the prospect of contributing out of their dwindling resources to support this family of faith.  There are some things that are within our power to control and there are some things that are not.  I am not going to worry about what I do not have power to control.  But I sure am going to do what I have the power to do.

   I have the power to preach on like my beloved colleague in Milwaukee even if nobody is listening.  Nancy and I have the power to increase our faith promise over last year even if nobody else does, although many already have turned in Faith Promise Cards ahead of us.  In truth, we have been inspired by their example, just as the Corinthians were inspired by the example of the Macedonians.  We even need each other for motivation.  So now more than ever let us come together as a family of faith.

   I pray you will begin to find some measure of joy in placing your Faith Promise Card in the offering plate this morning.  Regardless of our means, the Macedonians have taught us that we always have something to give, and that it is sufficient.  Maybe you will have enough joy to increase your Faith Promise.  If you need additional Faith Promise cards you will find extras on the desk under the stained glass window in the Great Hall.  Just write “Revised” on it and the Stewardship Committee will figure it out.

   Folks, there is a better day ahead, and it is just around the corner.  Indeed this day, even with all its cares and concerns, is a very good day when we count our blessings.