How do I look?
Matthew 23:1-12
Okay, so a little scripture education/clarification note: I’m going to assume that a fair number of you did not recognize at least one word in the scripture reading – phylacteries. So as quick definition. Phylacteries were two small black leather cubes worn strapped to the arm and forehead by seriously devout Jews during morning prayers. Those little boxes contained verses of scripture, including the shema, the verse about loving God that Jesus referred to when he was asked about “the greatest commandment.” These adornments were originally prescribed for a certain festival time, but eventually became a regular faith/fashion statement. So that’s a little preface to the sermon so that when you hear the word “phylacteries” you’re not scratching your head. Now, on to the sermon…
This is the first Sunday of a three week stewardship emphasis. The texts are lectionary texts, so it’s not like we are choosing special scriptures to convince all of you to be good stewards, but as it happens, all three texts (from Matthew’s gospel) have a stewardship angle to them.
There’s the one for today, that was just read for us, that talks about how the scribes and Pharisees manage their image and influence, and then there are two parables on deck for the next two weeks: one that tells the story of the bridesmaids, some who come prepared with oil for their lamps and some who don’t, and then the parable about the talents, and the servant who buries his talents versus those who invest and grow what has been entrusted to them by the master. So, three weeks and three texts, that all easily lend themselves to looking at life and faith through the lens of stewardship.
There’s just one problem: all three texts (including this morning’s scripture passage) give the stewardship message in the negative. They tell what not to do. As in, don’t put image over substance; don’t go to the wedding without oil in your lamp; don’t dig a hole and hide your talent. Don’t.
And that’s kind of a problem (at least for the preacher) because stewardship emphasis time has enough drag to it anyway, without going negative. After all, you hear the word ‘stewardship,’ and you’re probably already thinking “here we go again” or maybe you’re making a less than positive mental association – something like an association with the word “should” – as in, the message of stewardship is that you should share, you should give your money, you should be less selfish and more generous. And not only that, but if you are like most church folk, you might have a little bit of guilt already going on as well when it comes to money and the way you spend it or share it, or don’t; maybe you even have a little resentment about the idea that anyone should be telling you anything about what to do with what obviously belongs to you.
Churches (and preachers in particular) have learned all these things, and most have adjusted their stewardship messages and emphases accordingly – talking about the joy of giving, the privilege of sharing, the ‘faithful discipleship’ aspect of being a good steward.
And then along comes a text like this (or I should say, three texts like these ones we will look at over these three weeks). And what we have is a “don’t” example instead of a “do” example; a negative message instead of a positive message: Don’t be like the scribes and Pharisees, says Jesus. Don’t be the kind of person who does not practice what she preaches. Don’t be the kind of person who shifts the burden to other people. Don’t be the kind of person who does everything for show. Don’t be the kind of person who jumps the line or who uses his influence to get the best seat in the house. Don’t be the kind of person who angles for name and face recognition, who wants to be addressed with respect, who wants to be “the teacher.” Don’t.
And it hits pretty hard. But it’s also pretty clear. We know what not to do. But this is supposed to inspire us? This is supposed to guide and build up our sense of stewardship, our spending of ourselves?
Well, yes. It is. Because when you come right down to it, Jesus is right (no surprise there!) – you can’t be “great” in the kingdom of God, unless you’ve got two things in view, two priorities for your life. One of those priorities has to be service to others, and the other has to be humility. That is, there’s no point in putting on a good show. You have to do the right thing. You have to do the right thing for the benefit of those around you. And doing the right thing often means that you have to stop doing the wrong thing. And that’s the “don’t.”
But instead of getting bogged down in the “don’t,” maybe it’s best to think of the “don’t” as primarily a wake-up call. And here it is:
Who cares what you look like? So stop focusing on that. Stop making that your priority. What matters is what’s in your heart, and then also, what you do about it. And the humility part? Well, you can do the right thing, but in the wrong spirit. You can do what you do for the sake of the spotlight, but more revealing is what you do when no one else is looking and you’re not likely to get any credit whatsoever.
And you know this is true. We are all able to keep up appearances, but what kind of person are you out of the spotlight? What kind of giving do you do when no one sees it; when no one knows? What are you willing to share without credit coming back? What matters to you more: your reputation, or the well-being of others? What would you rather do: carry the load or dump it at the feet of someone else? Are you same person in the backyard as you are on the front porch?
Those are stewardship questions – questions about how you spend yourself, about what you do with who you are and what you have, and whether those intentions and actions are consistent or not. You can phrase things in the positive or the negative; that doesn’t really matter. What matters is how you answer these questions: Are you about image or are you about substance? Are you interested in looking good or are you interested in doing good? Jesus says it clearly: Don’t be about image. Don’t be just about looking good. It doesn’t reflect well on you, or on the God you worship.
We had that image issue, that “looking good” impulse tested for ourselves a couple of Christmases ago. It was the first year of the perfume fund offering – this offering based on the story of Mary dumping the perfume over Jesus’ head. We decided (as many of you remember) to collect money throughout the year and then on Christmas eve, to choose a recipient at random from among the nominations offered by the children and youth of the church. And the recipient that year was the local food pantry. And we were excited. We had collected over $15,000 dollars, and we were going to give it all to this local charity. They hadn’t asked for it, they didn’t know it was coming, and $15,000 is no small amount. It was a pretty big deal, especially in these times of economic hardship and need.
So for the choosing time on Christmas eve, we had one of those big cardboard checks on which we could write the name of the recipient and the amount, and then a few days later, Jim Chinworth and Aaron Johnson, who was the youth whose nomination of the food pantry had been selected, took the checks – the big cardboard one, as well as the real paper one, to the woman at the food pantry and presented it to her.
She didn’t know about the money, and boy, was she surprised! Jim came back and told the story – several places in our church family: at a Timbercrest pastors’ lunch, at an executive board meeting, a council meeting, I think, even perhaps in a worship setting. But the story never made it into the local newspaper, and it never (so far as I know) was reported in any other local churches.
Now of course, you see those donation stories all the time in the local newspaper. Some group raises a hundred dollars and they get a picture of their smiling faces in the newspaper, them along with the persons receiving the donation. But this donation that we made went not only unheralded, but seemingly undetected in this wider community. And some of you asked me about that at the time. Some of you wanted to know, and were even a bit bothered by this: Why wasn’t that story in the newspaper?
Well, there were two answers really. One answer, I think, was that the food pantry people were reluctant to publicize such a large gift because they thought that it might stop others from giving. And that makes sense. When a small organization in a small town gets a large gift, suddenly they don’t appear so needy, and if the stream of giving stops (or even slows down) for a little while, it might never recover. And then, long after the large gift is gone, the need will continue but the stream of support is less. So publicizing a $15,000 gift wouldn’t have helped them over the long term.
That’s one answer to the question of why there was no newspaper story. But there’s another answer. Do you remember when I brought up the idea originally? I said I thought that maybe we could give a gift that would make a difference, with no strings attached. No strings attached. And here’s the thing: once you start trying to get your picture in the paper, you’ve attached some strings, fringes and phylacteries, so to speak – “Hey, look at us! Hey, look what we did! Hey, don’t you think we’re great (generous, smart, kind, good….whatever – you fill in the blank)?”
And here’s my question (and I think it echoes Jesus’s point in scolding the scribes and Pharisees) -- Why should anyone know what we did? So they can feel beholden to us? Envious of our resources? Admiring of our character? Come on, that’s not the way it works. Jesus says very clearly, that’s not the way it works. All who exalt themselves will be humbled (he says) and all who humble themselves will be exalted. Do you know who really cares about seeing the picture in the paper of the people giving their giant check to charity? That’s right. The only people who care about seeing that picture in the paper are the people in the picture – and not the people getting the check; just the ones giving it.
Over this morning’s text, in the New Revised Standard version of the Bible, the heading reads, “Jesus Denounces the Scribes and Pharisees,” but in Eugene Peterson’s The Message, the heading reads this way: “Religious Fashion Shows.” Here is part of how his translation reads:
The religion scholars and Pharisees are competent teachers in God’s law. You won’t go wrong in following their teachings on Moses. But be careful about following them. They talk a good line, but they don’t live it. They don’t take it into their hearts and live it out in their behavior. It’s all spit and polish veneer…Their lives are perpetual fashion shows, embroidered prayer shawls one day and flowery prayers the next. They love to sit at the head table at church dinners, basking in the most prominent positions, preening in the radiance of public flattery, receiving honorary degrees, and getting called ‘Doctor’ and ‘Reverend.’ Don’t let people do that to you, put you on a pedestal like that. You all have a single Teacher, and you are all classmates.
And then at the very end of the passage, these words: Do you want to stand out? Then step down. Be a servant. If you puff yourself up, you’ll get the wind knocked out of you. But if you’re content to simply be yourself, your life will count for plenty.
I like that last line especially: If you’re content to simply be yourself, your life will count for plenty. What does it matter what other people think of you – your reputation, your influence, your ‘importance’? What does it matter? The only ones impressed with those in the picture in the newspaper are those in the picture in the newspaper. So who are we trying to impress? Ourselves? There’s nothing impressive about that.
Instead, think about who you really are. Think about what you really can do. Think about the ways in which your motives and your actions match up…or don’t. Think about what you can do, and then whether or not you are actually going to do it. Think about living a consistent life – where the parts match up and the story line runs straight and true. Think less about being seen, and more about being honest and humble. Think less about getting credit, and more about growing on the inside. The most amazing thing about you is that you are who you are. You are who you are. And that’s God’s gift to you. You receive that gift, and then you are the one responsible to figure out what to do with that precious gift. It’s up to you.
Do you know what one of the best feelings is? It’s not when someone comes up to you and says, “You look great,” or “I really admire you,” or “You’re the best.” No. Better than that is when someone comes up to you and says, “Thank you for being who you are.” And you say, “What are you talking about? What did I do?” And the person says, “No, no, it’s who you are. That’s what I’m talking about. It’s you being who you are.” And you kind of shake your head. “But how could I be anyone or anything other than who I am?” And then the light dawns on you, and you get it. Of course – people are trying all the time to hide or mask or change or twist or adjust “who they are.” And it’s confusing and dishonest and unhelpful and unsettling. All those phylacteries and fringes. They just get in the way. And so you being you, simply you, is actually unusual and refreshing. That’s what they’re talking about. And so you smile and nod your head. What a nice feeling, what a humbling feeling, to be appreciated for being the one that God has made you to be. No twist in that. No need to impress. Because in your honesty, in your humility, you can make space for others, and they can make space for you. It’s the best feeling.
Okay, so maybe that’s a kind of stewardship too, isn’t it? Being your true self? In the words of Jesus, “Being content to simply be yourself, and finding out that your life counts for plenty.”
How do I look? Well, when you are being yourself, and sharing yourself, you look just fine.
Amen.
Benediction:
Just so we’re completely clear, you don’t have to prove anything. You are not being measure or judged. You are being invited – to something softer, lighter, more generous, more thankful, more true. Let the Spirit of Christ blow through your life that way this week. Amen.
Kurt Borgmann
Manchester Church of the Brethren
October 30, 2011
