Sunday: The Reign of Christ
Reading: Matthew 25:31-46
Preacher: S. James Steen

In 1885 Leo Tolstoy wrote a story about a cobbler named Martin, a good, honest, and respected man who experienced more than his share of pain during his life. Over time, all of his elder children died; then his wife died, too, leaving him with a three-year-old son. Martin loved the boy and sacrificed a great deal to provide him with a home. Then, just as the child reached an age when he could be a support and a joy to Martin, he, too, contracted a raging fever and died. That was too much for Martin. He became bitter and murmured against God; and he rejected the Church. Would you blame him?

One day an elderly religious pilgrim from Martin's native village happened by, and Martin poured out his heart to the holy man. He reproached God, cursed his fate, and told the man that he only prayed to die. The monk showed Martin no sympathy. He chastised him, saying that the reason he was miserable was that his goal in life was his own happiness, rather than living for God. When Martin asked him how do this, how to live for God, he told him to buy a book of the Gospels, where he could learn from Jesus.

Probably more from desperation than anything else, Martin bought the book and began reading it, only occasionally at first, then more and more. Eventually, he wanted to read the Gospels constantly and he found that they were changing him. As he read, over time he began to feel different: happier, even joyful. He was especially moved by the story of Simon the Pharisee, who failed to show hospitality to Jesus, and by passages urging generosity like the one where Jesus says, "From anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again." It became clear to Martin that living for God meant showing hospitality to the stranger and becoming what some might call foolishly generous. He came to understand that living this Gospel of Christ wasn't just a matter of dabbling in generous hospitality; it was something to which he would have to dedicate his life.

One night Martin had an odd dream or vision and heard a voice say, "Martin, Martin! Look out into the street to-morrow, for I shall come." After waking up the next morning, he wasn't quite sure that the vision was real, but he couldn't get it out of his mind, either. While mending boots and looking out the window, during the day Martin saw three people in serious need, and he invited each of them into his house. The first, an old man weary from shoveling snow, he invited in and slaked his thirst with tea and fed his soul with the Gospel's message of love.

Next he saved a woman and her baby when he brought them in out of the bitter cold and gave them food, warm clothes, and money. Finally, he saved a juvenile thief from an old woman's wrath and ended up converting her to forgiveness and turning the two into friends in the process.

After the last of these encounters, Martin went back into the house and, after finishing his work, he opened the Bible and began reading the passage to which the book fell open: "for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing." And at the bottom of the page he read, "Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me." And Martin understood that his dream had come true; and that the Savior really had come to him that day, and he had welcomed him.

As Martin discovered, opportunities to show such generosity are all around us. So are opportunities to know the joy that comes with generosity. Our Bishop, Jeff Lee, has asked that parishes and individuals in the Diocese of Chicago provide one mosquito net for every person in the Diocese, in order to alleviate Malaria in vulnerable parts of the world. That's 42,000 nets. For us at SPR, it's about 500 nets and approximately $6,000. Does that seem like a lot? These may be tough times for us. But just imagine how tough they are for the 3,000 African children who die of malaria each day and for their families.

This past weekend, at Diocesan Convention, we had as our guest the Bishop of Renk in Sudan. Because he literally has no salary, at yesterday's Eucharist the offering was designated toward providing him with a living. Those who were present put more than $21,000 into the offering baskets at that service. These are challenging times. Many people - maybe many of us - won't get raises next year. But just imagine how challenging life is for a bishop who walks into the bush to make calls on his congregations and is gone from his family for many weeks on end, and receives no salary.

Today, we are invited to make our pledges to the mission of St. Paul & the Redeemer for 2009. As you make your pledge, today, or during the weeks ahead, I hope you will be raggedy, I hope you will make a pledge that makes you feel a little nervous, a little out of control, because if you give with abandon, I'm certain that you will discover, more deeply than you already have, the blessings that come from being foolishly generous.

I have a confession to make and conversion to share. Tom's business is likely to suffer a lot next year. He wholesales beautiful fabrics, just the kind of thing people buy lots of in good times and stop buying in a bad economy. I, personally, don't anticipate a raise for next year. In fact, I've offered not to receive one.

But that's not the confession. It is this: Behaving like a fairly sensible, rational Christian, not exactly lukewarm in my commitment, but sometimes halting, I had decided - Tom and I had decided - to keep our pledge at its current level of $12,000 for next year. We pledge a percentage of our income; so no increase in income translates to no increase in our pledge. And 12,000 is a nice, neat number, a thousand dollars per month, $250 per week. How simple is that!

But I can't do it - Tom and I can't do it. Our lives are simply too abundantly showered - no flooded - by God's grace for us not to take a step toward greater generosity. Our gratitude for the love we experience in this community is simply too great. We simply take too much delight at being part of a congregation that makes such a powerful witness to what the Church can be and that so generously welcomes all kinds of people seeking a spiritual home.

So, we're increasing our pledge by $1,200 dollars. Why 1,200? Because the leaders of our giving campaign have asked those of us who can to increase by at least 10% for 2009; because we want to make a serious statement about our belief that the hope of the Gospel is not diminished by challenging times. In fact, just the opposite is true. Of course, there's some self-interest here: We know that becoming more generous will add to our joy. But isn't that what God wants for us, to live joyfully? We're so glad to be able to make this commitment. Of course people's circumstances vary hugely, and every pledge, of any size, is truly valued. But whatever your circumstances are, please don't short-change yourself when you decide whether to pledge and how much to pledge to the mission of St. Paul & the Redeemer for 2009.

Thank you so much!

Amen.