November 16,2019
Let me say from the start that I feel relieved knowing that I’m not preaching during the annual stewardship pledge campaign at a particular church. The lectionary authors chose today’s Gospel for those churches who may be in the midst of such a campaign, or so it seems. Since that is no longer the case, I am free to say what I always wanted to but was too concerned that it would have a negative effect on pledging. I have some empirical data to support that fear. Once, a long time ago, following what I thought was a challenging yet “good” stewardship sermon, I received word that one of the largest pledging families of the church, $60 thousand dollars, had decided to not pledge due to being offended! My worst fears realized!
Of course I pretended it didn’t bother me but I’m sure the color raced out of my face after hearing the news. I don’t care how large a church budget is, that’s a lot of money! I felt like I had gotten a failing grade when I had expected an “A.”
My fears about pledging actually led me to give more money to the church. I read all the books. How could I ask anyone to give if I didn’t lead by example? You might think that helped. It didn’t. Every fall the pledge campaign came along with alarming regularity and I felt like it was final
Exam time. Would I pass? Had I studied hard enough? Would this be the year when all the money would dry up? I dreaded it and hoped I would survive!
Part of the issue for me was trust. I placed my trust in all of the wrong places. I put it in my ability to be persuasive. I put it in the hands of those who gave. I put it into how clever (or not) the campaign was. After years and years of dealing with this, I never overcame the fear.
I am not alone. Who among us has spent countless nights tossing and turning over decisions that needed to be made but a sort of paralysis takes over because of fear? What if it doesn’t work out? What if someone gets ticked and walks away? What if my boss thought the presentation was poor and God knows what might happen?
Oh, I’ve read the books, I know the pithy statements. One of the worst ones, in my mind is this. FEAR- False Evidence Appearing Real. Nothing like piling on. So if I am stuck in fear, I’m supposed to pretend it’s not real? What if it feels real? OK, then I’ll stick some guilt on top of it. Or how about those who tells us that fear is evidence of lack of faith. Great. Now we have guilt and a hopelessness accompanied by faithlessness. Poor people that we are, is there any hope?
I spent a couple of days this week with my mom. She’s sort of “in-process” as far as knowing what tomorrow may bring. Her biggest battle is being confused, but there are other struggles. My sisters and I have been talking about how we might best help her. This is a place that is filled with second-guessing, worry and a desire to make the best decision.
I don’t know if you ever been there. I kept thinking that it is a great thing to live so long but I also thought about how difficult it must be to get to the place where one has to put one’s trust in one’s children to make decisions that one can trust. I guess we’re all headed to that place unless we face an untimely death. But who has time for that? And who gets a vote anyway? Ultimately we are reminded about how little control we have over anything. My heart broke when I heard her say how scary it is to feel so lost. I had to wonder if we spend much of our lives building systems that give us an unrealistic sense of control. When it is all said and done, none of us have control over much. I wonder if there is freedom in just accepting that and doing the best one can do.
That’s what I kept telling my sisters. “We can only do the best we can do.” Really that’s all my mom can do too. Of course that lowers the bar quite a bit in the way we usually live. Our expectations are high, even though we have ample proof that life rarely brings what we thought it would.
I have a friend in Texas who hates the phrase “it is what it is.” I understand his frustration with that because it seems to suggest that we ought to just throw up our hands in surrender. “It is what it is” so I don’t have to do much. Just let life happen to me. “It is what it is” so there is no need to care, just react and do the best I can do.
Honestly I don’t know if I dislike that phrase as much as my friend. I don’t like the resignation but I acknowledge the frustrations in trying to control the uncontrollable. I am amused when I hear someone quoting Ben Franklin, when trying to sound biblical: “God helps those who help themselves.” I’ve preached too many sermons against that to suddenly turn toward it for solace. Jesus had something to say about this: In Matthew 6 we read:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.
“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”
Well there you have it. I ought to stop talking and just sit down. After all, who says it better? Isn’t this the penultimate: “It is what it is?”
I don’t think so. I mean who can live like this? There is long-term care insurance, doctor’s appointments, calendars to follow, events to attend. There are end of life decisions. But even before that, there are daily decisions that can have tremendous effects on our lives. We should “help ourselves” if we want God to help us, shouldn’t we?
I used to feel as if the future of the congregation hung in the balance of each stewardship campaign I led. The sermon needed to be challenging but empowering, raise the bar, but not too far. “Meet people where they are, not where I wanted them to be” I used to say. Part of that had to do with my inability to trust God. Countless sleepless nights accompanied each campaign. I used to have a refrigerator magnet that boldly stated, “Leadership was the ability to hide one’s panic from another.” Sounds like a poor way to live, doesn’t it.
I wonder if there is something in Jesus statement about the Lilies of the Field that we need focus on. OK, that I need to focus on. As I mentioned earlier, it’s much easier to be on this side of stewardship campaigns. In fact I attend a church now that doesn’t even have pledges. I just give. No pressure, no compulsion. In fact, this church doesn’t even have offering plates handed from person to person that always made me felt a bit like it was “the great shakedown.” (Have you heard the old story about the preacher who announced to his congregation about a building campaign? He said, the good news is we have the money; the bad news is that it is still in your pockets). I don’t have to deal with that now. I can just freely give, which I do. I admit to looking around the congregation and wondering if I am the only one to feel such freedom.
I don’t worry about people getting mad at me. There is no one that has the power over me to threaten withholding a pledge. That’s gone. But not without leaving some scars and many lessons.
I heard a story once that is said to have been about a former bishop of Chicago. Evidently one of the biggest pledgers of a large church in the diocese and a regular contributor to the Bishop’s discretionary fund was present at a sermon that the bishop gave. Having been greatly disturbed by the sermon, it is said that he wrote the bishop about his disgust. In his note he reminded the bishop that he was a huge contributor to both his parish and the bishop’s discretionary fund. After the reminder he wrote, “I never want to hear you preach in that way again.” The bishop responded immediately by return mail and is said to have written: “Dear sir, you and your money be damned.”
Damn. That’s good. I would have never have had the courage to write that. Of course I would reframe it and say that I would have been more “pastoral” than that. I am not sure that is a true story but there are times when one must speak the truth. Even in stewardship sermons. I am old enough now to know that I regret very little about the bold things that I attempted as a parish priest. I regret the timidity. I regret letting fear control me. But there is good news in all of that.
I am still alive. I still have decisions to make. I still have influence. Making mistakes is unavoidable. Learning from them is a choice. I once said that the name of a book I wanted to write would be entitled “The Mistakes of Darrel Proffitt.” I don’t think so any longer. I do believe that we all need to consider the lilies of the field and how they neither toil or spin. That’s not a bad way to consider fear that is operative in your life…. It causes too much toiling and spinning. And when you’re doing all of that, you’re not moving forward but simply caught in an awful cycle of fear, worry and anxiety. You hear it often that love hurts. But that is not true. I’ll tell you what hurts: rejection, losing someone, envy, fear, anxiety, worry; those hurt. The only antidote is love and sometimes the best place to find love is to take the time to contemplate those wonderful lilies of the field and how they just don’t toil and spin.
No more stewardship sermons lie ahead. But there are decisions to be made and people to love. It is not “it is what it is,” but rather “despite what it is, I move forward with faith, hope and love.” If someone wants to call me on that, so be it. I promise not to say “you and your money be damned,” but I may think it.
In the meantime, I will consider the lilies of the field and know that if God provides them with they need, we will be just fine. We will be better than fine because we will not be toiling and spinning but living and I invite you to do the same….. In Jesus name.