Sermons for Real Life

Full Sermon

Joyful Generosity — 2 Corinthians 9

Main Point: God Wants Your Yes.

Scripture

Psalm 50:9–12; Mark 11:1–6; 2 Corinthians 9:6–11

Please stand for the reading of God’s word from 2 Corinthians 9:6–11

6 Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. 7 Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. 8 And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. 9 As it is written:

“They have freely scattered their gifts to the poor; their righteousness endures forever.”

10 Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will also supply and increase your store of seed and will enlarge the harvest of your righteousness. 11 You will be enriched in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God.

This is the Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

Prayer for Humility

Lord Jesus,

Money can be a sensitive subject.

It can stir up fear, embarrassment, pride, comparison, guilt and even anger.

So protect us today from manipulation.

Protect me from saying anything you aren't saying.

And protect us from using our discomfort as an excuse not to listen.

You don't want somebody else's money.

You want our hearts.

You want our lives.

So speak, Lord.

And give us the courage to answer:

Yes.

Help me to get out of your way. Take the foolish words that fumble from these failing lips, and elevate them by the power of your Holy Spirit so each of us hears what you want us to say, and not some old, meandering windbag of a preacher.

O Lord, open my lips that I may speak forth thy praise.

Amen.

You may be seated.

Main Point

God Wants Your Yes.

There is something I have said around here for years:

“God doesn’t need your money. He wants your life.”

I heard that sentiment in a Keith Green song when I was a young Christian, and it stuck with me.

And I still believe it.

God does not need your money.

Psalm 50 says:

“Every animal of the forest is mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills.”

And then God says:

“If I were hungry I would not tell you, for the world is mine, and all that is in it.”

I love that.

God is basically saying:

“If I needed lunch, I wouldn't call you.”

God is not broke.

Heaven is not having a cash-flow problem.

God is not sitting up there saying:

“Gabriel, things are a little tight this month. I sure hope Spring Valley comes through.”

Everything already belongs to him.

So I still believe what I have said for years:

God doesn’t need your money. He wants your life.

But lately I've realized there is a little problem with that statement.

Your money is part of your life.

Money represents hours you worked.

Money represents decisions you made.

Money represents things you could buy.

Money represents security.

Money represents choices.

Money represents tomorrow.

So eventually, if I say:

“Jesus, you can have my life,”

Jesus may gently ask:

“Does that include this part?”

And suddenly we aren't talking about fundraising anymore.

We're talking about discipleship.

Congregational Response

Would you say this with me?

Lord, my answer is yes.

Again

Lord, my answer is yes.

God Wants Your Yes

Before we go any farther, let me make something very clear.

This is not a sermon about meeting a church budget.

I'm not going to guilt you into giving.

I'm not going to promise that if you give God a hundred dollars he'll send you a thousand.

I'm not going to tell you that God is disappointed with you until you put something in the offering.

Paul says:

“Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion.”

Not under compulsion.

If I have to manipulate you into generosity, something has already gone wrong.

Because God is not trying to pry something out of your hand.

God is trying to free something in your heart.

Jesus talked about money a lot.

Not because Jesus was obsessed with money.

Because he knew we would be.

Money whispers:

I will keep you safe.

I will make you important.

I will give you control.

Get enough of me and you won't have to depend on anybody.

Including God.

That's why Jesus said:

“You cannot serve both God and money.” — Matthew 6:24

Notice he didn't say:

“You shouldn't.”

He said:

“You cannot.”

Eventually one becomes master.

The problem isn't money.

The problem is mastery.

A Vow Of Productive Generosity

Now, I grew up Catholic.

And somewhere in my childhood understanding of Christianity, being really serious about God became associated with being poor.

I knew about priests and nuns and monks and religious orders.

And particularly, I knew about people taking a:

Vow of poverty.

Now, I don't want to criticize that.

There are Christians who have been genuinely called to voluntary poverty.

Some of the great saints of the church have lived that way.

There is something beautiful about somebody looking at the wealth of this world and saying:

“I don't need it. Jesus is enough.”

But somewhere along the way, at least in my own mind, I began to confuse two different ideas:

Poverty and holiness.

As though having less automatically made you more spiritual.

As though producing wealth was somehow suspicious.

As though the holiest thing a Christian could do with money was simply not have any.

I don't believe that anymore.

Because there is another biblical possibility.

Maybe God hasn't called every Christian to take a vow of poverty.

Maybe many of us need to take what I would call:

A Vow Of Productive Generosity.

Not

“Lord, help me have as little as possible.”

But

“Lord, help me produce as much good as possible, so I can give as much good as possible.”

Not a vow to own nothing.

A vow that nothing I own will own me.

Not a commitment to be unsuccessful.

A commitment that whatever success God gives me will have a purpose bigger than me.

And a few hundred years ago, John Wesley put it beautifully.

He preached a sermon called The Use of Money.

And Wesley gave Christians three remarkably practical instructions:

GAIN ALL YOU CAN.

SAVE ALL YOU CAN.

GIVE ALL YOU CAN.

But those three belong together.

If you stop after the first one, that's greed.

If you stop after the second one, that's accumulation.

The destination is the third one.

Give all you can.

So let's walk through all three.

1\. Gain All You Can

Now that sounds like a strange thing to hear in church.

Make money.

Work.

Produce.

Build.

Create.

Grow.

Be good at what you do.

But Scripture actually says something remarkably similar.

Paul writes:

“Anyone who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with their own hands...”

And why should they work?

Listen

“...that they may have something to share with those in need.” — Ephesians 4:28

There it is.

Work so you can give.

That is productive generosity.

Paul doesn't say:

Stop stealing and sit quietly in poverty.

He says:

Stop stealing.

Start producing.

Do something useful.

Create value.

And then use what you create to bless somebody else.

That's very different from greed.

Wesley was careful about this too.

“Gain all you can” did not mean:

Make money at any cost.

Don't destroy your body to make money.

Don't destroy your soul to make money.

Don't cheat somebody to make money.

Don't exploit your neighbor to make money.

Don't become rich by making somebody else poor.

But within those boundaries?

Work hard.

Learn.

Improve.

Build.

Produce.

Gain all you can.

Because Christians should not be ashamed of productivity.

Imagine a Christian business owner saying:

“I want this business to succeed wildly—not so I can pile up toys, but because I want to employ people well, support my family, help my neighbors, support the church, feed hungry people, send missionaries, build ministries and fund things that matter.”

That's not greed.

That's productive generosity.

The question isn't merely:

“How much do I make?”

The question is: “What is my making for?” Gain all you can.

2\. Save All You Can

Then Wesley says

Save all you can.

But he wasn't saying:

Build bigger barns.

Hoard everything.

Die with the highest possible balance in your investment account.

Jesus already told a story about that guy.

He had such a successful harvest that he ran out of storage.

So he said:

I'll tear down my barns and build bigger ones.

Then I'll have plenty stored away and I can relax.

And God said

“You fool\!” — Luke 12:20

So saving cannot mean:

Trust your pile.

There is wisdom in saving.

There is wisdom in planning.

There is wisdom in providing for your family.

There is wisdom in preparing for tomorrow.

But there is a difference between: SAVING and HOARDING.

Saving says:

“God has entrusted this to me, so I will use it wisely.”

Hoarding says:

“This is what will keep me safe.”

Saving can be stewardship.

Hoarding becomes worship.

Wesley's idea was wonderfully practical.

Don't waste money merely to impress people.

Don't spend endlessly feeding appetites that can never be satisfied.

Don't make your life about acquiring increasingly expensive versions of things you already have.

Waste less so you can give more.

That is a radically different reason to live simply.

You're not living simply because having nice things automatically makes you sinful.

You're living simply because:

Every dollar does not have to terminate on you.

Maybe that's the difference between a vow of poverty and a vow of productive generosity.

I don't necessarily have to say:

“I will never have anything.”

I can say:

“Anything I have is available to God.”

Gain all you can. Save all you can. And then comes the reason for both.

3\. Give All You Can

Paul says:

“Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion...”

And then:

“...for God loves a cheerful giver.” — 2 Corinthians 9:7

Not a guilt-ridden giver.

Not a frightened giver.

Not a manipulated giver.

A cheerful giver.

Because there is joy in discovering this: I don't need to keep everything.

There is freedom in opening your hand.

There is freedom in saying:

Money does not own me.

And there is a fascinating little moment on Palm Sunday that brings us right back to where we started.

Jesus sends two disciples into a village.

He tells them they'll find a colt tied there.

Untie it.

Bring it.

And if somebody asks what you're doing, say:

“The Lord needs it.” — Mark 11:3

Wait.

What?

The Lord needs it?

The same Lord who said:

“The cattle on a thousand hills are mine”?

The Lord needs a donkey?

Of course Jesus could have walked.

He had walked almost everywhere else.

The God of heaven and earth was not going to be defeated by a transportation shortage.

And yet:

“The Lord needs it.”

Somebody had something.

Something ordinary.

Something useful.

Something valuable.

And Jesus invited that person to put it into God's story.

And somebody said:

Yes.

We don't even know their name.

But their donkey carried Jesus into Jerusalem.

The crowd shouted Hosanna.

Palm branches waved.

Prophecy was fulfilled.

And somewhere nearby was a person who could have pointed toward Jesus and said:

“Hey\! That's my donkey\!”

Although by then maybe they understood:

“No. That's the Lord's donkey.”

Because I released it.

And I wonder how often Jesus still says:

“I can use that.”

Your ability?

I can use that.

Your business?

I can use that.

Your house?

I can use that.

Your afternoon?

I can use that.

Your car?

I can use that.

Your extra room?

I can use that.

Your bank account?

I can use that.

Your success?

I can use that.

Your retirement?

I can use that.

“The Lord needs it.”

Not because God is deficient.

Not because God cannot accomplish his purposes without us.

But because God has chosen, again and again, to invite ordinary people to put ordinary things into his extraordinary story.

It wasn't really about the donkey.

It was about the yes.

And maybe generosity isn't ultimately about the money either.

It's about the yes.

For Our Own Good

And here's the part I don't want us to miss.

God doesn't call us to generosity because God benefits from our money.

We benefit from generosity.

Every time I give, something happens inside me.

I remind my heart:

Money is not my master.

I remind my fear:

God is my provider.

I remind my possessions:

You belong to God.

I remind myself:

There is more joy in giving than clutching.

Paul says:

“God is able to bless you abundantly, so that... you will abound in every good work.” — 2 Corinthians 9:8

Be careful.

He doesn't say:

Give a hundred dollars and God will send you a thousand.

That's not Christianity.

That's an investment scheme.

Paul says God provides so that you can:

abound in good works.

Then he says:

“You will be enriched in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion.” — 2 Corinthians 9:11

Did you hear the direction?

God doesn't bless me so everything can stop with me.

God blesses me so blessing can flow through me.

That is productive generosity.

Earn. Produce. Build. Save. Plan. Prepare.

And then—

Open your hands. Not because poverty is holy. Not because wealth is holy.

Because surrender is holy.

What Should I Give?

And now some of you are waiting for me to give you a percentage.

I'm not going to.

Some of you may need to give more to this church.

Some of you may need to help somebody in your family.

Some of you may need to support a missionary.

Some of you may need to buy somebody's groceries.

Some of you may need to give away something sitting in your garage.

Some of you may need to open your home.

Some of you may need to invest in something that creates jobs.

Some of you may need to help somebody go to school.

Some of you may need to quietly pay a bill that somebody else cannot pay.

And some of you may be in a season where you have almost nothing to give financially.

Maybe right now your faithful response is to allow the body of Christ to help you.

That's okay too.

This is not:

“Everybody give the same thing.”

This is:

“Everybody give God the same answer.”

Yes.

Lord, if you give me an opportunity to work—

Yes.

If you ask me to live more simply—

Yes.

If you ask me to release something—

Yes.

If you say:

“The Lord needs it...”

Then my answer is:

Yes.

Because God doesn't need my money.

God wants my yes.

Communion

And then we come to this table.

And suddenly everything we've been talking about gets turned around.

Because Christianity doesn't begin with what we give God.

It begins with what God gave us.

Romans 8 says:

“He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all...”

Before God asked you for anything—

God gave first.

And Jesus didn't take a vow to give us whatever was convenient.

He didn't give us his leftovers.

He didn't calculate the smallest contribution necessary.

At the table Jesus says:

“This is my body.”

“This is my blood.”

In other words:

Here is all of me.

And then he says:

“Follow me.”

That's why generosity is the way of Jesus.

Because Jesus is generous.

Generous with grace.

Generous with mercy.

Generous with forgiveness.

Generous with compassion.

Generous with himself.

So maybe the question isn't:

“How much does God want from me?”

Maybe the question is:

“Jesus, is there anything in my life you cannot have?”

My time? Yes. My gifts? Yes. My business? Yes.

My house? Yes. My plans? Yes. My money? Yes.

My future? Yes.

My life? Yes.

Gain all you can.

Save all you can.

Give all you can.

Not because God needs your money. Because God wants your life.

And your life has become an opportunity to pour his goodness into the world.

So perhaps we don't need a vow of poverty.

Perhaps what many of us need is:

A vow of Joyful Productive Generosity.

Lord, help me produce all the good I can.

Help me waste as little as I can.

And help me give as much as I can.

And whenever you say:

“The Lord needs it,”

may my answer always be:

YES.

So Today, If I may, the Lord has need again. Not of a Donkey, and certainly not of your wallet. He needs something only you can bring him — YOU. Won’t you come to the table and say Yes to him anew this morning?

\[communion\]

Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus,

Everything we have came first from your hand.

Our abilities. Our opportunities. Our jobs.

Our homes. Our resources.

Our time. Our very lives.

Teach us to work faithfully without becoming greedy.

Teach us to save wisely without becoming fearful.

Teach us to give joyfully without compulsion.

Deliver us from both the worship of wealth and the assumption that poverty itself makes us holy.

Instead, make us faithful stewards. Make us productive. Make us content. Make us generous.

Let what passes through our hands feed people, encourage people, employ people, teach people, shelter people and introduce people to Jesus.

And when you place something in our hands and then whisper,

“I can use that,”

give us the courage to open our hands.

We do not give so that you will love us. You already do.

We do not give to purchase your blessing. In Christ, you have already given us more than we could ever repay.

And until that day when everything we accumulated is left behind, teach us to turn temporary treasure into eternal good.

Our answer is yes. In the generous name of Jesus, Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. Have I ever confused poverty, wealth, or financial success with spiritual maturity?

1. What am I producing that God could use to bless someone else?

1. Where could I simplify or waste less so that I am freer to give?

1. What possession or resource would be hardest for me to hear Jesus say, “The Lord needs it”?

1. What would a personal “vow of productive generosity” look like in my life?