Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Philippians 4:4-9
Harvest Sunday: November 21, 2010
Thanksgiving is a big deal in my family. It’s the must attend holiday. And it’s not just my folks, my siblings and their families; it’s in-laws, and in-laws of in-laws, cousins, friends, usually a few college students, and anyone who happens to be “hanging around.” This year, I even convinced my housemates, Emily and Jordan, that they should come, and Emily is bringing her parents and aunt. We pack my sister’s house like clowns in a Volkswagen and, like so many other thanks-givers, we eat ourselves silly. It’s loud, happy, lots of kids running around, and many words of thanks. I absolutely love Thanksgiving. I love it.
But this morning, this Harvest Sunday…this pledge Sunday, I want to ask the question: “Is Christian thanksgiving in any way distinct from the cultural practices of thanksgiving at this time of year?” On Thursday, families across the country will sit around tables and have people say what they are thankful for, and we can pretty well guess that some of the top vote getters will be: family, health, security, freedom, pets, and of course the bounty of food at the table.
But when you read the scriptures, thanksgiving in the Judeo-Christian tradition is much more that just making lists of the good things in our lives. That’s the starting point – something that we are most blessedly called to do. Shouts, songs, poems, prayers of thanksgiving fill our scriptures from beginning to end. But both Paul and the authors of Deuteronomy tie thanksgiving to something else: God’s call to create just communities.
Deuteronomy is the foundational text in our tradition for stewardship. It’s the “tithing” text. Of course for some “tithing” is a word that hangs over us like unwanted mistletoe. It sets a standard we feel compelled to live up to and a little guilty when we don’t. But the concept of tithing, or offering, in this text is not primarily tied to rules and obligation. It’s tied to joyous occasions. The authors of Deuteronomy talk of tithing by telling the story of coming into the promised land – one of the most joyful times in of Jewish history. It goes on to remind readers of God’s love of Abrahams and the Exodus from slavery. Tithing begins in joy and thanksgiving. But it doesn’t stop there, anymore than the story of the Jewish people stopped when they reached Canaan.
To understand how the Israelites thought about tithing, we have to remember that the authors of this text were living long after their ancestors came to the promised land, and some things had changed dramatically. One author I read this week points out that it was social inequalities that gave rise to the instruction in Deuteronomy to tithe. During the early days of settling into the new promised land, all Israelites enjoyed approximately the same standard of living. Wealth and income came from the land, and the land had been divided between the families equitably. One inherited family property from one’s father. The idea was for each one to live off their own land.
Then, the rise of the monarchy brought significant changes. The king’s officials formed a kind of caste detached from, and sometimes opposed to, the interests of the masses. The new economic life with its business deals, land acquisition and sales, and steep taxes destroyed equality between families. Some became rich while others sank into poverty.
From this context the authors of Deuteronomy say to first give thanks to God for all God has done and then to bring the first fruits of the land as an offering. The first thing we should notice is that the text is only addressing land owners – those who “have”, not those who don’t. Then we learn the offering was to be used in two ways. First, it was to be used as a sign of their thankfulness – a tangible way of saying thanks to God. But the second way Deuteronomy says the offering should be used is for charitable purposes. It is to be distributed to the Levite, the sojourner, the orphan, and the widow— in other words, those without land on which to produce crops for themselves. “Remember what God has done for you, give thanks, and then remember how you are called to give to others so all have enough.”
Paul makes a similar connection – “Rejoice!” he says – “give thanks!”. And then he goes on to write, “whatever is true, honorable, just…keep on doing these things.” For Paul, living out our call faithfully is the natural response to the joy we feel because of who or what God is. We give of our lives and resources because we feel joy and a genuine desire to live in communities of compassion and justice. The possibility is exciting to us, compelling, motivating, it makes us rejoice to think of such a thing.
As much as I love thanksgiving, I also think it can be a bit awkward. We give thanks for all God has given us, yet it appears all is not given and distributed equally. My family gives thanks for the bounty of food on the table, yet some starve. It’s awkward and maybe uncomfortable. But it’s not so awkward when we remember it’s not just counting blessings. We can also feel pure joy because we are, through our generosity and gifts, moving the community in the direction of being just and equitable – and that’s something to rejoice about. Thanksgiving is a celebration both of the blessings in our lives and the ways we bless others lives as well.
Each of us has a call – a call to live fully out of our God-given gifts to serve others – and what that looks like is different for each person. In the same way communities have a “call”, and both of our passages are dealing with the community’s call. Both are written to communities of people that claim allegiance to Yahweh. The community is to rejoice both in what God has done for them and in what their lives of generosity and justice do for others.
We claim allegiance to the same God. Our call is the same: to rejoice and seek to create just communities. Paul and the authors of Deuteronomy knew what they were doing. Thanksgiving and call go together. Yet in practice – now, as well as, I suspect, then – call is often separated from thanksgiving, and that leads to all sorts of problems – spiritual and practical problems. God’s call is heard as demands and weighty obligations. Call becomes un-joyous.
It’s easy to get discouraged about living out our call when we forget why we are doing what we are doing. Living out our call, it turns out, is not always – probably not often – glamorous. Often it is mundane and certainly at times it requires things of us we’d rather not do. I was grabbed this week by a phrase in Paul’s words to the Philippians: ‘Keep on doing what you are doing’, Paul says. It’s actually kind of an odd juxtaposition with his shouts of “Rejoice! Rejoice!” Dramatic joyfulness combined with mundane repetition. I don’t know exactly what was going on in the Philippian church, but I think one possibility, given what Paul says, is that they were getting tired and maybe discouraged. It’s why Paul reminds them to rejoice and then assures them that they are on the right track.
Sometimes our work as a community of faithful people feels mundane – even demoralizing at times. We wonder what difference it makes. We don’t feel as thankful for our “call” as we do for family, friends, food and health. But the truth is call is largely about doing the same things faithfully over and over again, sometimes without immediate or big effects. And without joy, this can be hard to sustain.
The people in Deuteronomy were asked to bring first fruits yearly, just as we bring our pledges every year. Paul says “keep on keeping on…” just as we do what we do over and over. Keep giving quarters to Heifer, keep giving gas vouchers to people who come to our church for help, keep packaging for kids against hunger, keep visiting and caring for one another, even though the results aren’t always clear or immediate.
Elaborate stewardship campaigns often strike me as odd. It seems like the idea is to prove how this year is special – how because of some brochure, or narrative budget, or visit by a church member, you are suddenly going to realize that there is really something important going on and so you will increase your pledge by 10% or whatever. I think stewardship comes from thanksgiving, not obligation, not from a good marketing campaign.
Stewardship is about thanksgiving first and foremost. Rejoicing in what God has given us, and then rejoicing in the fact that we get to participate in God’s work of creating just communities. Tithing, offering, pledging: it’s that crazy juxtaposition of unbridled rejoicing and thanksgiving, and the mundane act of bringing forward our little cards every year and placing money in the offering plate each week or month. We do it not because we’ve just become convinced of something, or because there’s a particular thing going on that needs money, or because we like the pastor, or whatever. We do it because it’s part of what we do over and over when we live in gratitude. It’s what we do because we are both thankful for all we have and aware that life is not equitable. It’s what we do because we’re Christian, because we are descendents of those first Israelites, who were taught that offering is an act of remembering what God has done for us and what we are to do for others.
Abraham Heschel famously said once, “if you can pray no other prayer, “Thank you,” is enough.” And, carrying this a step further, Karl Barth once wrote, “Radically and basically all sin is simply ingratitude.” The importance of the foundation being grateful cannot be overstated for these two wise people of faith. Neither can, as Barth points out, the relationship between gratitude and how we live our lives.
This year, as we sit around the table, let’s be thankful for God’s call to us as First Presbyterian Church. Let’s be thankful for the possibilities of a just community. Give thanks to God for the opportunity to create communities that reflect what God intends – communities where all can rejoice together for the blessings we have received.
And now, as we bring forward our pledges during the next hymn, with the early communities of our faith ancestors, let us rejoice and remember the words of Deuteronomy as we dedicate them:
“So now we bring the first fruit of the ground that God has given us. We will set it down before Yahweh, and then together with each other and all those who wander through our doors, let’s celebrate with all the bounty that Yahweh has given to us!” Amen.
