Readings: Matthew 25:14-15, 19-29
11/13/2005
The Rev. Mary B. Blessing
St. Jude the Apostle Episcopal Church, Cupertino,
CA
Can one talent make a difference? In the 1930’s Dan West was a Midwestern farmer, a pacifist and a Conscientious Objector to war. During the Spanish Civil War, when asked to join the American military to stop fascism, he chose alternative service. Rather than fight in combat, and be forced to kill or be killed, West served as a Church of the Brethren relief worker. His job was to ladle out rations of milk to hungry children in Spain. He had the painful task of deciding who would receive the limited rations. Horrified at the starvation caused by war, he realized “These children don’t need a cup of milk, they need a cow.”
When Dan West returned to Ohio he used the one talent he had, faith, to ask his farmer friends help him. He asked them to donate cows to send to starving children in Spain. Maybe he could not stop the starvation of all children, but he could at least get started by offering a few cows. His idea was to send a cow to a starving family. That cow could feed many children. The family would have to agree to give the cow’s offspring to other families, who would raise them to get milk for their family, and so on. Dan West and his neighbors sent 17 cows in the first shipment . From this initial effort he developed the organization, “Heifers for Relief,” now known as “Heifer International”, dedicated to ending hunger permanently by providing families with livestock and training them so they “could be spared the indignity of depending on others to feed their children.”
Dan West’s choice to share his “one talent” (plus a heifer or two) with poverty stricken people grew into an international effort to bring families world wide into a network of nutritional self-sufficiency. Each family that receives a cow, or chickens, or bunnies, or water buffalo, or rabbits, or whatever animal is appropriate to their culture, agrees to “pass on the gift”, donating offspring to another family so that the gift of food is never ending.
Did you know that children in our parish give a quarter, a dime or a nickel each week to add to our fund for Heifer International? That is the special envelope you see the children bring up to the altar each week. When the pool of money reaches enough to buy an animal or two, the children take a vote for which animals to purchase. Their small financial “talent” adds up to a large “talent” to make a difference in the lives of children across the world.
I remember the first time I truly understood how my financial giving of even a small portion helped make a difference. As part of our awareness of financial stewardship here at St. Jude’s, I offer my story as an example of how a person may grow spiritually through financial giving. I am clear that offering money for the purpose of advancing the gospel of Jesus Christ has brought bountiful blessings to my life, including the abundant blessings I have received in service here at St. Jude’s. I give God, and you, thanks for that.
My middle class family upbringing was probably not all that different from many of yours. My parents placed a high value on education, not stuff. My lawyer father spent beyond his means to grant his 5 children the best education money could buy. My college professor mom worked hard for a strong, steady income to keep us sheltered, clothed and fed. Each of them grew up comfortably in a middle class sort of way--not suffering during the Great Depression, but actually being the families that helped out various relatives. My dad had a “spend it if you have it” mentality, and my mom a “sugar bowl” mentality—all family earnings went into the “sugar bowl”. Who ever needed money took what was needed, and replaced what they used as more money came in. Money was not invested, money was not hoarded, money was just there to meet our needs, ebbing and flowing—sometimes more than necessary, sometimes not quite enough, but we always had what we needed for life.
My dad would not allow any of us kids to have after school jobs “because there were kids whose families really needed those jobs”. But, we were not given huge amounts of money to save and spend as we wanted—money was doled out on a “need to use basis”--we had to prove what we wanted was worthy to buy. When it came to giving to the church, my dad checked for spare change in his pocket, and placed a dime and nickel on the kitchen counter, lined up for each child to take to Sunday school. He trusted us to take our offering and carefully put it in the basket. I’m not sure all coins made their way to the basket each week; because my brother persuaded me we could use a nickel candy bar just as much as the starving kid in China could use a bowl of rice….. In any case, we had no sense of personal sacrifice or any kind of spiritual connection with this money flowing in and out of our fingers.
This went on all the way up into my college years. When I finished college in the mid-‘70’s, I finally landed my first “real job” at UC Berkeley Libraries. My pre-tax income was $2516. a year (I have my social security earnings statement to prove it). At that time, $20,000. was the most common U.S. income. Somehow I survived on $210. a month. Rent was $120 (including utilities) Phone was about $10. month. That left me about $80. a month for food, transportation, emergencies and entertainment. I owned only a bicycle and rode the bus or walked everywhere. I managed food at about $50. a month, leaving $30. a month for everything else. Most important: I was in charge of my own money for the first time in my life.
My dad wanted to keep supplementing my income, but I refused. I remember sitting in his car in front of my apartment saying, “I don’t want your money any more.” Tears welled up in his eyes. It hurt him, but I needed that sense of independence. I needed to choose what I wanted to do with my money.
Free of my father’s hand controlling my money, for the first time in my life, I chose to offer a tithe of my own hard earned money: 10% of the $30 “extra” I had each month. I’ll never forget the look on the treasurer’s face when I gave my pledge card, and she saw the meager amount I offered: $3.00/mo. And this was a stretch for me. She probably hoped for more, as she imagined me as a person from a family of great means. But her words were wise: “Mary, this is wonderful. Your pledge, added to our other offerings, will allow us to get the gospel out to a world hungry to hear Jesus’ words of hope.” This woman knew my heart. She knew my heart burned with passion to get the good news of Jesus Christ out to the world. Christ had changed my life, and I wanted to share that positive transformation with as many people as I could, with whatever small means I had. I was urgent. I had to give. On its own, that $3.00 a month was almost nothing, but she was right, added to the other offerings it represented hope to a world starving for spiritual renewal. Her encouragement of me to “get started” as a percentage giver motivated me to plan my future income with percentage giving—as my income became more abundant, so did my giving.
Matthew’s Parable of the talents foreshadows Matthew’s urgency. Matthew was urgent to tell disciples to be vigilant while waiting for the culmination of Christ’s promise of peace. While we are waiting for the fulfillment of this promise, we are not called to be inactive like the one who in fear refused to do anything but bury the one talent entrusted to him. Rather, we are to be faithful in doing God’s will with all that has been entrusted to us. This parable activates us to get ready for Matthew’s profound proclamation that when we do even the smallest of acts, using what talent we have—when we feed the hungry, offer a drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, heal the sick, visit prisoners—we are fulfilling Christ’s promise.
Whether it is offering a cow to a hungry village, or giving our financial tithe to add to the proclamation of the gospel, our contribution brings us and others one step closer to preparing the world for Christ’s promise.
AMEN
| Updated 11/15/2005 |
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