Stewardship Sunday. Ideally, it works like this: The pastor comes to the congregation with an incredible sermon that genuinely inspires people to write big enough numbers on their pledge cards, so that in just a couple of weeks the elders can rest easily knowing there will be enough income in 2005 to cover the budget.

It’s a little awkward, from my end. Why?

Frankly, it has nothing to do with talking about money. I have no problem with that at all. And if I need a biblical model, I can look at Jesus who seemed to spend far more time talking about money than he did sex, the environment, abortion or lots of other topics.

And, I have no problem talking about money at Bethany because I truly believe in the way we handle our finances, and am so excited about the things God is doing here, and the ministries we are being called to.

I have no problem talking about money and tithing on Stewardship Sunday. In fact, I just ran across my favorite bumper sticker:

“Tithe if you love Jesus…any idiot can honk.”

Stewardship is actually a topic I like.

But Stewardship is, of course, much bigger than just money. It is about all areas of life, how we take care of or steward what we have been given: money, building, time, things, environment. It’s almost always about action, what we do. The problem this morning is that on this Stewardship Sunday, our text wants to talk about who we are.

Rick Reilly, a well-known sports columnist, once wrote a column in which he addressed rookie football players, especially wide receivers, who seemed to be rather arrogant on the field:

“Stop thumping your chest. The line blocked, the quarterback threw you a perfect spiral while getting his head knocked off, and the other receiver drew double coverage. Get over yourself!”

Get over yourself. I wonder if Jesus ever thought about saying that to his listeners. I wonder if he ever thinks about saying it to us.

“Get over yourself.”

Or maybe in gentler words,

“Have a little humility.”

Humility has a lot to do with letting go of a need to be superior to others. Humility has to do with acknowledging that we are dependent on others. And with recognizing our own imperfection. Humility is really the call of this portion of Jesus’ sermon today.

The first way Jesus calls us to be people of humility is in telling us to realize that “We are not the final judge.” Now, I hasten to note that of all the words in Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain here, I think the three most misused are

“Do not judge…”

From inside the church, and interestingly very often from outside of the church, I hear it constantly when people disagree.

“Doesn’t the Bible say you shouldn’t judge?”

What they usually mean is

“How can you say I’m wrong?”

because we live in a day when right and wrong are seen as very contextual and individual. Right for me is not right for you. Most often, this is a very unbiblical idea. And the reality is that when taken as a whole, scripture over and over again teaches us to make judgments, to be discerning.

A few verses down, Jesus says,

“Take the log out of your own eye…then you will see clearly so you can help your neighbor’s vision.”

He doesn’t say,

“Don’t worry about your neighbor’s vision.”

In these same verses, Jesus says you’ll recognize a tree by its fruit. Clearly, he is calling his followers to discern between good and bad.

Or a bit later in chapter 9, Jesus tells his disciples to go out in ministry, and enter villages, and if the village didn’t welcome them, to “shake the dust off their feet towards them.” That is, write them off. The disciples will need to make a judgment call.

In chapter 12, Jesus warns the disciples to watch out for, to beware of… the religious leaders of the day…some will do damage. It certainly sounds like judgment.

Later in Luke, Jesus says,

“Why do you not judge for yourselves what is right?”

So what do we do with all this?

“Don’t judge,” but “Do judge.”

To me it seems clear that Jesus is not saying don’t judge right from wrong. He is not saying don’t be discerning. He is not saying don’t confront someone over their behavior.

In fact, when taken as a whole (not one isolated verse, taken out of context), the New Testament says we are called to discern right from wrong, we are called to stand up and contend with people, we are called to teach against philosophies and lifestyles that are in contradiction with the gospel, we are called to make decisions on the issues and the values and the decisions of our day.

• Sexuality,
• materialism,
• new age spirituality,
• environmentalism,
• abortion,
• war.

These are not somehow neutral things. Day in, day out, making judgments is part of our life.

What we are not called to do (and what I think Jesus is getting at)…is judge people. Or maybe better put, we are not the final judge. Yes, discern, make judgments about attitudes, actions, speeches, philosophies…but they are not final judgments over a person. That is not our role.

We don’t decide who goes to heaven or who goes to hell. We don’t decide that people are beyond the range of God’s love and grace. We don’t write people off, or label them for life.

We have to be very careful about this…even about our everyday words. I was driving this week, and the driver in front of me, without any signal or anything, veered to the right, then cut back to the left in a huge U-turn right in front of me. The first words out of my mouth…that I would tell you…were:

“What an idiot!”

As soon as I said them, I had to take them back. The person had made a very poor driving move, true. That was one action, one decision. But “what an idiot” condemns the whole person.

Jesus seemed to be able to distinguish between the two. Perhaps that’s why he’s so much more qualified ultimately to judge than we are.

“I don’t condemn you,” Jesus once told a woman. “But go and quit sinning.”

I suspect it was why he could both call out wrong behavior…and rejoice over a welcome home given for runaway sons, and sit in parties with tax collectors and sinners.

Is it truly possible to disagree with decisions and attitudes that someone holds, but love and honor them? (Our recent election campaigns would seem to say no) …But if we could do that. If we could be people like that…the world would be a different place. Humility says,

“I am not the judge of persons.”

Secondly, humility recognizes that we have received an abundance from God.

“A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap.”

The “measure” here is a “metron,” where we get the “metric” measurement system word. The image is from the marketplace, measuring out a volume of grain.

The careful merchant, the prudent businessman simply dips the cup and quickly pours it into the pocket in the customer’s robe. The less he pours, the more profit he makes. It’s not a “good” measure.

But this measurement is like what one receives from God, it is a “good measure.” Now the picture is of the cup dipped into the grain. The merchant packs it down tight, even shaking it together to make it compact even more tightly and then dipping again not just to top off the cup…but allows it to fill to overflowing and the whole mess is poured into the customer’s receptacle.

It’s a gracious gesture. Humility recognizes the generosity of what we have been given.

Sometimes that’s easier to say than to do. Sometimes we are in hard places, and we lose sight of how our cup has been filled. A man once went to a wise friend for comfort and counsel. He was in the midst of great financial difficulties.

“I’ve lost everything,” he wailed.

His friend said, “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve lost your faith.”

“No,” the man corrected him, “I haven’t lost my faith.”

“Well then, I’m sad to hear you’ve lost your integrity.”

“I didn’t say that,” he corrected. “I still have my integrity.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve lost your salvation,” the friend said.

“That’s not what I said,” the man objected. “I haven’t lost my salvation.”

“You have your faith, your integrity, your salvation. Seems to me,” the friend said, “that you’ve lost none of the things that really matter.”

Humility recognizes what we have been given, and is thankful…rather than focusing on what is missing. If we could be people like that, the world would be a different place.

Thirdly, the humility Jesus talks about demands that we look in the mirror… first. It’s so interesting to me that Jesus does not say, “Don’t help your neighbor with their vision.” Only make sure that yours is clear first.

“How can you say to your neighbor, ‘Friend, let me take out the speck in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log in your own eye?”

There’s something downright laughable about this picture, you know. It’s hyperbole, an exaggeration.

On Friday, Anne and I and two of the kids went to see the movie “The Incredibles.” It’s a “superhero” movie done with amazing animation. When “Mr. Incredible” has to hang up his superhero identity and become an ordinary citizen, he takes a job with an insurance company. Despite the fact that he’s a superhuman physical specimen, he has to squeeze into an itty bitty cubicle at the insurance company. He towers above the walls, and has to turn sideways to get out of it.

That’s what this picture is. Like an optometrist trying to look into your eye with his bright light, but if he gets within two feet of you, he’ll slam you silly with the huge chunk of wood coming out of his own eye. It’s goofy. Jesus thinks so too.

“How ridiculous,” Jesus says. Before you get too excited about helping someone with a shortcoming…Look in the mirror. Humility does not say “never call someone to account, or correct them.” Humility says first “how are things in my own yard?” We won’t, of course, find ourselves perfect. But an honest evaluation means we can be realistic rather than hypocritical.

Eugene Peterson writes it like this:

“It’s easy to see a smudge on your neighbor’s face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say ‘let me wash your face for you,’ when your own face is distorted by contempt? Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor.”

Humility means taking a hard look in the mirror and being open to God’s correction in your own life…first. If we could be people like that…the world would be a different place.

Right judgment, generosity and self-examination. These are hallmarks of the kind of humility that Jesus wants his people to have. If we reflect for a minute, we’ll remember that in each case we have received from Jesus the same thing he asks us to cultivate in our own lives.

Jesus is the one who never backed down from calling wrong wrong. And yet his judgment always seemed to be undergirded by his mercy and desire for people to turn to God. Jesus is the one of whom, the apostle Paul says,

“In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us…”

We are the receivers of God’s amazing generosity.

Jesus is the one whose own life was so marked by humility that he could call other people to get over themselves. It is Jesus who both teaches us and empowers us to do just that.

Oh, but there’s one more thing. If we are careful readers here, there’s one real tension we will notice. Though solid theology and many other Bible passages will tell us that God gives his gracious love and forgiveness to us freely…in this passage there seems to be a price tag. The treatment you receive from God will correspond to the way you treat others.

If you want to avoid God’s judgment and condemnation, then don’t practice it on others. If you want to receive God’s good gifts, then give them to others. If you want God to use his generous measure, you’d better use one in your dealings with others. This says that you’ll receive from God only what you give to others.

And that … is a tension in which I believe Jesus purposely left us hanging.

So. We started out talking about Stewardship, and what we will do with our finances and other things. The more I looked at this passage, the more it seemed Jesus was most concerned with who we are, working to build in us his character and make us people of humility. If we could be people like that, the world would be a different place. And what we did on the outside would merely reflect who we are on the inside. Let us pray.