See theme

Most preachers shoulder the burden of our stewardship sermons as if we were IRS agents—a little grim faced, even though we know we are doing a necessary job. As much as we say, "This is good and important and right," we suspect people look at us suspiciously and wish they would have picked this Sunday to vacation on Hilton Head.

But we shouldn't feel that way. When we preach well about stewardship we are opening the door for our people to grow rich. After his parable about the shrewd manager, Jesus said, "If you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches?" (Luke 16:11) Problem is, of course, a lot of Christians aren't that crazy about "true riches." They would be happy enough with a little more mammon. They hum, along with Tevye, "Would it spoil some vast, eternal plan if I were a wealthy man?"

So we preach. We preach about tithes and treasures, about offerings and storehouses. Our heroes are a ten-talent servant, a sly manager, a destitute widow, and poor but extravagant churches.

The heart of our work, always, is to study the Scriptures—carefully and thoughtfully. The broad stroke stewardship principles are probably familiar to us, but each time I preach on a new text, I'm surprised and rewarded by the nuances. (It reminds me of all you can find on a dollar bill if you look very closely.)

During a capital campaign, I chose as my text one Sunday Acts 4:29-37, the passage that tells about the extraordinary generosity of the early church. When I chose it, of course, I thought it would provide a platform to talk about Christian generosity. Then I studied the passage, and was arrested by the phrase, "and much grace was with them all." That led me to say this in my sermon:

Remember how "the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day"? Remember when Ebenezer Scrooge shouted from his window, "laughing and crying in the same breath, 'I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to everybody!' "Though neither Dr. Seuss nor Charles Dickens used the word, those are grace stories. Those old skinflints got a wonderful gift they didn't deserve. The point of those stories isn't that those rich old misers gave so much, but that they received so much. Much grace was with them both! Now in the real world, only God can work a miracle of that magnitude.

When God breaks the stranglehold that money has on us, when prudence and savings give way to extravagant sharing; when people open their closets or garages or kitchens to others, and are giddy with the privilege, well, that is a miracle of grace. "And much grace was with them all."

Rather than simply challenging people to be generous, as I thought I would be doing, we found ourselves taught by the Scriptures to pray together for gospel grace, an extravagance with the gospel that could touch our checking accounts.

I often think I know what the text is going to tell me, but if I sit and listen quietly to God's Word, there is always more there than meets the eye. The things I discover often carry the text's true potency.

The big leagues of persuasive speeches
Every sermon is a persuasive speech. But given the stinginess of hearts, stewardship sermons are the big leagues of persuasion. Here are some persuasion tips.

Be careful with guilt. I believe that the Bible teaches tithing—at the minimum. I believe Malachi's charge, "Would a man rob God?" applies to New Testament saints. But while I believe it is a moral law to be followed, our motivation for giving is not to avoid the long arm of God's law, but to practice trusting the God who loves us. Guilt may squeeze out dollars, but it tightens up hearts and trust as well. In the long run, that makes for miserly churches.

Distinguish between sacrifice and faith. These are two different aspects of giving. I read a book sometime ago about churches that built without any debt. There were certainly stories of faith in that book, but what struck me most were the stories of sacrifice. Do you remember the old story about the preacher on stewardship Sunday who said, "I have good news and bad news. The good news is we already have all the money we need to meet our goal. The bad news it's still in your wallets."

I began the most important stewardship sermon I ever preached for my own heart reiterating the preposterous goal our leadership had set—that we would all double our giving, and maintain that level for three years. My wife and I had struggled with that expectation. We were already giving beyond a tithe. To be honest, I wasn't sure this project was even needed. But I was sure God was leading our leaders. I told the congregation candidly, "I don't know what doubling your giving would come out to for you, but to be frank with you, in our case I could lease a certain new Lexus for the same amount!"

My sermon that morning was taken from the story of the persistent widow ( Luke 11:5-10). In my introduction, I said, "The secret to giving more than we have been giving is probably sacrifice. But the secret to giving more than we have is prayer." To my faithless astonishment, our church reached our campaign goal.

Stories are powerful. In fact, I suspect real-life examples are more important in preaching on giving than almost any other subject. People latch on to stories of generosity, faith, and sacrifice and stick them up in their minds like posters in a 16-year-old's room.

Before I began the sermons for our capital campaign, I wrote a half dozen pastoral colleagues who had themselves gone through capital campaigns. I asked them if they had any stories of real people whose lives had been changed by sacrificial giving or steps of faith. I also asked if they had examples of how God had worked in unexpected ways throughout their campaigns.

One of my pastor friends wrote me about a young father of five who had lost his job just when their church was in a campaign. As he prayed, he felt that God wanted him to pledge $5,000 over three years. Having no job, he had no idea how that could happen. But, my friend reported, "two weeks later, God opened the door to a new job that paid him nearly twice what he had previously been paid. He was so excited he could hardly contain himself and had to tell the whole church."

Don't make money the point. It almost never is in the Bible. The point is grace, or Christlikeness, or open doors, or the poor, or worship. Get a strong, clear fix on the text's great theme, and God's people will rise to the challenges. If they don't, it won't do any good to harp on their stinginess. Preach grace-fully to reshape their hearts. Let Scripture sing to them: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich." And my favorite, "God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things, at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work." (Italics added.)

Be credible. No one at our church knows about my giving, yet somehow I think any sermon would fall flat if I don't practice what I preach. There is a joy in givers, a bit of the spiritual adventurer and discoverer, that you can't fake. A stingy preacher talking about stewardship is like a singer without breath support.

Communicate the adventure. For many Christians, sacrificial giving is the first great adventure of their faith. It's the spiritual equivalent of whitewater rafting or rappelling, and you'll have to help them get up their nerve. But many Christians see their first bona fide miracles when they determine to stick their financial neck out in serving the Lord.

I remember my Uncle Milton telling me years ago how he started giving. He was a nominal Christian. A series of stewardship messages left him flat-out angry. He was so ticked off that he decided to prove that you could outgive God, even if it left him broke. So he suddenly took up tithing—on the gross income from his small business, not the net. That'll show them, he thought. Things didn't turn out as he expected. When he told me the story a few years later, he was the excited chairman of his church's stewardship committee!

Remember how grateful they will be. Have you ever known any genuine, sacrificial giver to Christ who regretted their giving? Have you ever known any who thought about returning to their pauper days?

I was a kid when The Sound of Music came out. In the final scene, the wealthy Baron Von Trapp and his family leave all they have behind to flee over the Alps to freedom. On which side of the mountain were they richer?

Our calling is to take people over the mountain to freedom.

Lee Eclov recently retired after 40 years of local pastoral ministry and now focuses on ministry among pastors. He writes a weekly devotional for preachers on Preaching Today.