C157 11/30/58
© Project Winsome International, 2000

THE SECRET EVERYBODY KNOWS
Dr. John Allan Lavender
Lk. 6:38

Following my second year in college, I spent the summer working on the staff of Mount Hermon, a Christian conference grounds in Northern California. It's a spectacularly, beautiful spot located in the Santa Cruz Mountains, at the very heart of the giant redwood country.

Although the work schedule was rather heavy, there were occasionally opportunities for us to attend sessions of the various conferences. It was at one of those sessions that I heard the story I want to share with you this morning.

The young missionary who had been speaking to us for about forty-five minutes began to bring his address to a close. Throughout most of his message there had been a buoyancy of manner, a radiance of countenance and a magnetism of speech which was utterly captivating. No one could mistake the fact that here was a young man full of zeal and enthusiasm for his calling.

As he began his closing illustration, his whole demeanor changed. He became strangely somber and serious. It seems that shortly after he arrived at his mission outpost in Africa, a young native woman gave birth to a set of twins. One was a beautiful, healthy baby. The other was sadly and terribly deformed.

According to tribal custom, the young mother was obliged to toss one of her twins into the Nile river as an appeasement to the crocodile gods.

Shortly after the birth, the missionary set out for the hut of this young mother to try to dissuade her from following this terrible custom. He had hardly left the mission compound when he met her on the road leading to the river. In her arms she cradled a baby, but it wasn't the deformed and emaciated baby. It was the stronger and healthier of her twins.

The missionary tried to stop her, but she marched resolutely on. He fell in beside her and began to reason with her, trying to point out the evil in the thing she was going to do, but the shackles of superstition were too strong and she brushed him aside.

Finally, in desperation he said, "But why must you give this child? Why the normal, beautiful, healthy one? If you are going to do this terrible thing, why have you chosen this baby over the other which is deformed and diseased and will surely die anyway?"

For the first time the native woman stopped her march of death, and turning slowly she stared into the missionary's soul. "It seemed," he said, "as if her scorn would utterly devour me." Then, turning back toward the river she answered, "I don't know what your God requires, but our god demands the best."

Well, there is no answer to that kind of stoic devotion, except the example of a Christian devotion which is willing to out-give it, out-live it and out-love it. And yet, as the young missionary said in conclusion, "Most of our Christian stewardship is based upon how little can I give and still get by?"

No farmer would ever ask that! No farmer would ever be so foolish as to walk out into his waiting fields with a small fistful of seed saying, "How little can I get by with?" He wants a harvest! So he goes forth saying, "How much? How much will it take to reap the maximum yield from my fields?"

If there is one thing that sticks out all over the life and ministry of Jesus, it is the fact that he approached the staggering, appalling, overwhelming needs of society with a dangerous and expensive devotion.

There was nothing niggardly or calculating about his giving. Jesus gave all his strength, his time, his hope, his healing, his solace, his salvation and ultimately, his life. Then he went on to say, "Any man who would follow me, let him take up his cross . . ." By precept and example, Jesus declared the tremendous truth that giving is living. That "the measure you give will be the measure you get."

"You can take it with you," Jesus said. You can "lay up treasures in heaven where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt and where thieves cannot break through and steal." Money can become immortal. It can be transformed from something material which tarnishes and rots away, into something spiritual which abides. Money does have qualities and values which are eternal.

Sigmund Freud called himself a Jewish skeptic, but he had the right idea about a lot of things. His favorite story was about a sailor shipwrecked on one of the South Sea islands. He was seized by the natives, hoisted to their shoulders, carried to the village, and placed on a rude throne.

Little by little he learned it was their annual custom to make some man king for a year. He liked the idea until he began to wonder, "What had happened to all the former kings?" Soon he discovered that every year, when a kingship ended, the king for that year was banished to a deserted island where he starved to death.

The sailor didn't think much of that idea, but he was smart and he was king. So, he put his carpenters to work making boats. He had gardeners transplant fruit trees to the island. Farmers grew crops there. Masons built houses, too. When his kingship was over and he was banished, it was not to a barren island, but to an island of abundance.

I think that's a parable of what Jesus was trying to teach us. Each of us is a king. In a sense, each of us has the power to choose what we will do with the stuff of life. The wise ones among us are those that heed the words of Jesus and "lay up treasures in heaven."

Now, we give assent to this idea, up to a point! But, when it begins to actually cost us something, our heart rules our head and we're not so sure.

Our head tells us a good God cannot lie, and when he says,
"Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse and I will open the windows of heaven and pour you out a blessing such as ye cannot contain,"
he really means it.

At the same time, our heart whose affections are still fastened upon the things of the world, refuses to agree. It will not let us accept emotionally, and therefore actually, what we accept intellectually. Our heart is unwilling to give up the glass beads of materialism (which it can see) for the pearls of spiritual delight (which it cannot see.)

We are a great deal like the little girl who set out for Sunday School all decked out in her best bib and tucker. Her daddy had given her two shiny nickels; one for the Lord and one for an ice cream cone on the way home. She had scarcely left the house when one of the coins slipped out of her fingers and rolled down a drain. As she watched it disappear she was heard to say, "Oops, there goes the Lord's nickel."

Well, we can excuse such an attitude on the part of a child, but what are we to say about the adult who knows his responsibility, refuses to accept it and thinks only of himself? Has he reached any kind of spiritual maturity at all, when every incident, every luxury, every rise in the cost of living and every desire that comes dancing down the pike is answered with the words, "Oops, there goes the Lord's nickel?"

If, in the making of our personal and/or family budget, everything else comes first and the cause of Christ comes last, we might as well close up shop right now and quietly steal away. Thank God, all Christians are not like that. There are many, many faithful stewards who put Christ first. One of our fine members, not a wealthy man but a faithful man, called me on the phone this week. In the course of our conversation he told me his projected income for next year will be several thousand dollars less than this year. I expected him to say he was awfully sorry. That though he would like to give more, he would have to cut his pledge next year. To my surprise and, I might add encouragement, this man who was already giving more than a tithe said, "We believe so much in what our church is trying to do for Christ, we are going to increase our pledge next year by a hundred dollars."

Another one of our fine men took me aside at the Hour of Power last Wednesday and said he is so concerned about our church and its world-wide commitments he's going to take the big step up to a full tithe next year!

Our board of trustees has estimated we will need a twenty-percent increase in giving to meet the opportunities, challenges and current obligations facing our church. That's a lot of money! But if we believe in what we are doing, and really want to achieve the goal we have set for ourselves, we can do it.

I'm reminded of the story about a man whose pet parrot died. He was very lonesome without it and decided to get another. While he was out shopping one night, he passed a pet shop which was going out of business. They were holding an auction to sell off their remaining stock.

The man went inside and saw a beautiful parrot. It was exactly what he wanted and decided to buy it. When the parrot was placed up for auction, the man put in his bid and someone promptly raised him. He placed a second bid and someone raised him again. This happened over and over until the price of the parrot was quite high, but he was determined to have it. So he raised his bid one last time and to his great relief the auctioneer said, "Sold!"

When he went to get the parrot he said to the owner of the shop, "I've paid a lot of money for this parrot, but I really won't mind if he is a good one. There is just one thing I want to be sure of, can he talk?" "Can he talk?" replied the store keeper, "Who do you think has been bidding against you all this time!"

Well, there is no mistaking the fact that the world we are trying to win for Christ has been bidding against us. As a result, the cost of winning that world has gone up and up. But believe me, the salvation of one boy or girl and the saving guidance of one teenager is worth it all, especially if that youngster or young person is yours or mine.

So, while it would please me to come before you this morning and say all you have to do is give what you gave last year and it will be enough, I can't! Our expanding needs, opportunities and challenges demand expanded giving. But, if each one of us will approach our giving in the light of the Biblical tithe, we will not only meet those needs, we will exceed them.

Some of you may remember the story of a doctor in a small French village who was about to retire. He had been on call night and day. The people could not afford to pay him much, but that had made no difference. He cared for them without regard to compensation.

As the day of his retirement approached, the people wished to make a concrete expression of their gratitude and affection. It was proposed that, on a given day, since they had so little money, each would bring a pitcher of wine from their own cellars and pour it into a large barrel placed in the city square. When everyone had made their contribution, the barrel of wine would be presented to the doctor as an expression of gratitude.

The day arrived, and all day long the people were seen pouring their offering into the barrel. The evening came and the barrel of wine was delivered to the doctor's residence and presented with all the inevitable speeches. When the presentation was over, the people went back to their homes and the doctor was left alone with the memory of their love. He went to the barrel, drew off of it a bit of wine and went into the house to sit comfortably by the fire and enjoy it.

The first sip was a shock. It tasted like water. He sipped it again. It was water. Thinking there must have been some mistake, he went back to the barrel and drew off more. But no, the barrel was filled with water! He called the mayor and the mayor called the assemblymen. There was a hurried consultation, and the truth was revealed. Everyone in the village had reasoned, "My little pitcher of wine won't be missed. I have so little for myself. The others will take care of it. The little water I substitute for wine will not be noticed."

It's a tragic story, and it may never have happened. But it's the kind of thing that can happen and does happen, when people refuse to accept their Christian responsibility and decide to let other people carry the load. In the face of our tremendous stewardship needs this coming year, that kind of attitude and behavior can only mean death to our dreams of a greater work for Christ. We must all do our share. Every gift is important. Every tithe, be it large or small, is essential to our ongoing mission.

That's why our children in junior church will join us here next Sunday morning. They will be given the opportunity to place their tithe and offering into our "Chest of Joash."

That's why our teenagers received a special note from me this week reminding them they must not expect mom and dad do it all. They, too, have a responsibility and must place their commitment in "The Chest of Joash."

That's why we are making this procession of commitment a family service, and are asking every member of the family, young or old, to have a part in meeting the challenge of a greater work for Christ.

If we all respond, if we all expand our giving and it matches our expanding need, then we all will be able to hold our heads high and look our master in the eye when he says,
"Well done, thou good and faithful servant. You have been faithful
over a few things: I will make you to rule over many things."

"Giving is living," the bright angel said,
"feed to the poor, sweet charity's bread."
But must I keep giving and giving again,
my selfish and questioning answer ran?
"Oh no," said the angel, his eyes pierced me through,
"just give till the Master stops giving to you!"