W.I.P.illy (How to Give #3)

About once a quarter we invite our kids to join us in the main gathering. They bring so much energy — we love having them sing with us and learn alongside us. So if you’re one of our kids reading this, know that this message isn’t just for your parents. It’s for you too. Because if you can learn these things now, you’re going to be remarkable as an adult. (You’re already remarkable.)

Art That Changes When You Move

Have you ever seen artwork that shows you one thing from one angle and something completely different from another?

There’s a piece where you start out looking at two giraffes, and as the camera pans across the room, the giraffes dissolve and an elephant assembles itself in their place. There’s another where you see the outline of the continental United States rendered in dollar bills — and as you shift position, the shape resolves into a word.

The most famous example I can recall is a painting where you stand on the left and see a young girl. As you walk to the right, she ages, and by the time you reach the far side you’re looking at an elderly woman.

This is called parallax art. Some people call it perceptual art or perspective art. I just call it cool. It astonishes me that an artist can conceive something that renders one way from here and something entirely different from there.

I’m not going to pretend this message is a work of art. It’s probably just one more sermon in the long list of sermons you’ve heard. But I’m hoping to accomplish something similar: I want to help you shift position and gain a new perspective.

The Cynic’s Perspective

A couple of weeks ago we acknowledged that when the church starts talking about generosity, giving, and money, a lot of people have — let’s just name it — a cynical response.

Just last week I was talking with a gentleman I’ve known casually for seven or eight years since we moved to town. He knew our church had gotten into a new building, so we caught up and he asked how it was going. I explained that we don’t actually own it yet — we signed a three-year lease and we’re in the middle of working out what comes next. Do we buy? Sign another lease? Move to rent-to-own? We’re still figuring it out.

Somewhere in that conversation, things shifted, and he said that all churches want is your money. He was talking to a pastor, so he gave me an out: “I’m sure you’re not that way, but my church, the other churches I know of — it just seems like all they want is your money.”

And I have to admit, this series hasn’t helped that impression.

Two weeks ago we said you should give expectantly — carry a posture of generosity. The cynic hears: Of course you’d tell people to expect to give. You’re trying to get more out of them.

Last week we heard that we’re to give bountifully, generously. The cynic hears: Obviously. That means more money. And churches will wrap it in something appealing — you’re going to love the new building, the new program, the new staff hire, the remodel. This is for everyone’s good. Some of those statements are even true. But if you’re looking from the cynic’s angle, all you hear is: we want something from you for our thing.

Today’s passage will not help. If anything, it drives the cynicism deeper — because once again you’re going to hear that if you follow Jesus, you’re expected to give financially. And on top of last week’s generously, this week adds willingly. Of course you’d tell people to give willingly. That’s just more money for you.

So here’s what I want to do. Let’s go to the verse and read it deliberately through the cynic’s filter. Let’s stand at that angle and see what the picture looks like. And then I want to try to walk you across the room, so that the same words resolve into something completely different — something I hope genuinely moves you.

The Verse

Second Corinthians 9:7 says: Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.

We’ll take that last phrase — the cheerful giver — next week. Today we’re working through everything before it.

Standing at the Cynic’s Angle

Start with each one. The cynic says: naturally. If you can convince every single person to give, that’s more money. And notice it says each one must give — so now you’re persuading everyone that pleasing God requires it, and the coffers fill up.

What’s genuinely irritating about that phrase is that “each one” sounds like Paul is saying no exceptions. Some of you want to push back: Wait — what if I’m buried in debt? What if I’m barely making ends meet? What if I don’t have a job, or there’s a financial catastrophe bearing down on me? Surely there’s an out.

And the cynic’s read is that the church doesn’t care. They want your money. They’ll speak to you very kindly about it, but too bad about your job, too bad you don’t know where the next paycheck comes from or how you’ll make the mortgage — you still have to give.

A Word About Percentage Giving

Last week we touched on percentage giving — that across history, many religions including Christianity have pointed to the ten percent mark as a good landing place. Some have taken that in a thoroughly legalistic direction, insisting God is displeased if you fall short. But for many people, ten percent has a genuine sacrificial quality: small enough not to break the bank, large enough that you feel it.

Here’s the thing about percentage giving — if you aren’t making much, you aren’t giving much in the eyes of the world. But to you and your bank account, it’s an enormous amount.

I remember when committing a hundred dollars a month to a capital campaign felt impossible. We were in Denver, our church met in a school, and they were trying to secure land and a building. We were so poor that a hundred dollars a month may as well have been a thousand. We had no idea how we’d do it. And yet we felt God calling us to it, so we did.

Here’s what I still can’t fully explain: in the months we actually gave that hundred dollars, we somehow had everything we needed for the rest of the month. And in the months we talked ourselves out of it — the months we decided we simply couldn’t — those were the hardest months. It was bizarre. But it happened over and over.

You want to find the exception in this verse, and Paul doesn’t seem to offer one. But let me remind you of something we keep saying: this whole conversation about generosity is not only about money.

Say you’re out of work with no income at all. Ten percent of zero is still zero. But you have time. You have energy. You have skills. How could you use some of that to bless someone, to help someone? We’ll come back to this.

Willingly, Intentionally, Prayerfully

So the cynic looks at “each one must give” and says, of course you’d say that. And then it gets worse, because of how we’re told to give.

First, willingly. The middle phrase says not reluctantly or under compulsion. This is meant to be a free act. The cynic hears: Of course you’d tell them to give willingly — now they feel like it’s their own idea. That’s just emotional manipulation.

Second, intentionally. Notice the phrase as he has decided. This is a decision. The cynic hears: Except the church usually makes the decision for you. We’re buying a building. We want land. We’re doing this. Decision made — now give to it.

Third, notice that Paul doesn’t say to decide with your head. He says in his heart. This is meant to be thoughtful — I’d say prayerful. And the cynic hears: Perfect. Now they’re praying “God, what do you want me to give?” and the emotional pressure is complete. Spiritual gloss on top of a sales pitch. You’re an infomercial host hawking merchandise. The product’s going straight into the closet and then the garage sale.

Willingly, intentionally, prayerfully. My admittedly silly adverb for it is: give W.I.P.illy.

But the point is that some of you don’t hear a silly adverb. You hear coercion. You hear manipulation. And it makes you want to pull back and say, I’ve seen this before. I know how this goes. I’m not giving.

If You’re a Cynic, You Might Be Right

Here’s what I want to say to you: if that’s your perspective, I don’t blame you. I understand it.

In fact, I’ll go further. If you hold the cynic’s perspective, you’re right — provided that the assumption underneath it is actually true.

Every perspective rests on an unstated assumed truth. And if that assumed truth is correct, the conclusion follows.

So what’s the assumed truth here?

The assumed truth is that what you have belongs to you.

Which makes complete sense. The car I drive is my car. The house I live in is my house. The clothes I’m wearing are my clothes. The money in the account is my money. You worked the job that earned it. You made the investments that produced the dividends. Kids, your grandparents gave you that money and you used it to buy the game or the phone. It was an exchange, and therefore it’s yours.

If that’s true, then your cynical perspective isn’t just understandable — it’s probably correct. Because what the church would be doing is trying to get you to part with what’s yours and make it theirs.

Except it isn’t true.

The True Truth

The devotional book we’ve been working through opens with a topic: God is the owner of everything. It gathers six verses. Let me give you three.

In Psalm 50, God says every animal of the forest is his, the cattle on a thousand hills, the creatures of the field — the world is his, and everything in it.

In Leviticus 25:23, speaking to Israel, God says the land is his, and they are aliens and tenants in it.

Psalm 24:1 says the earth is the Lord’s and everything in it — the world and all who live in it.

And those six verses don’t begin to exhaust what Scripture says on the subject. The Bible is unambiguous: everything is owned by God. Which makes obvious sense — he’s the Creator of all, therefore he’s the owner of all.

So the assumed truth — what I have belongs to me — is wrong. The true truth is: what I have belongs to God.

Watch How Everything Shifts

Stand at that angle, and the whole picture reassembles.

Once you realize everything you have is actually his, giving gets easier — because it’s no longer about losing something. It’s about using what belongs to him to help others.

You also find yourself wanting to be more intentional. You don’t want to be careless with God’s things. You put more thought into it.

Which leads straight to prayerfully. You don’t want to squander God’s resources, so you talk to him about it. God, where do you want me to give? How do you want me to give? Prayer becomes the natural companion of thinking carefully about how to give willingly.

The Wrong Question

I’ve been meeting with a church planting coach every other week for six or seven years now. He lives up in the Twin Cities and is preparing to plant his fourth church. He knew we were going through this generosity series, so last Thursday he asked how it was going, and I started sharing some of what I’d be saying to you.

And he said something that stopped me.

He said: when you ask how much should I give?, you’re operating from the first assumption — that what you have is yours. But if you actually believe the true truth, that everything belongs to God, then “how much should I give?” is the wrong question entirely.

The right question is: how much should I keep?

The moment he said it, I was convicted. A little blown away, honestly. And suddenly you understand why God can ask us to give generously — it’s already his. He’s simply asking us to use what he’s entrusted to us to bless other people.

So we give willingly, intentionally, and prayerfully — because what we have isn’t ours. It’s God’s.

But Say I Haven’t Convinced You

Let’s suppose I haven’t persuaded you. Suppose you’re thinking: I hear you, and yes, I’m a Christian — but come on, it’s my stuff. Maybe God provided the job, but it’s my income. I bought these things. They’re mine. I’ll steward them well, but they’re mine.

Fine. I won’t fight you on it. I’ll say: I’m confident you’re wrong, but let’s pretend you’re right. It’s your stuff.

But if you call yourself a Christian, you want to live like Jesus lived. So let’s look at how Jesus handled his stuff.

We could talk about how he gave from his open hand — his influence, sharing wisdom; his skills, healing people; his time, spending it on them. He was extravagantly generous with everything he had.

But the most precious thing he possessed was his life. He was God in the flesh. He had done nothing wrong. And he gave his life for us.

Jesus Gave Willingly

Skeptics sometimes describe the cross as divine child abuse — the Father sending the Son to die. But as we saw on Good Friday, Jesus is walking toward Jerusalem knowing precisely what awaits him, and he’s out in front of his disciples. He went willingly.

He gave intentionally. In Mark 10:45, Jesus says he came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. Sit with that. Kings are served. And the King of the universe comes to earth specifically not to be served. We watch him wash feet. Feed crowds. Care for outcasts. And finally give his life — as a ransom, deliberately, for many.

And he gave prayerfully. The night before his arrest he’s in a garden praying. He knows exactly what’s coming: arrest, a rigged trial, torture, execution on a cross. That’s why he sweats blood. That’s why he asks the Father to take the cup from him — and then says, not my will, but yours.

Willingly. Intentionally. Prayerfully.

So even if you’re right and your stuff is your stuff — if you claim to be a Christian, you’re called to follow the example of Jesus. You’re called to live like him. And that means you’re called to give, and to give this way.

Four Questions

And as I keep saying, this is not merely about money. So let me ask:

Does your bank statement reflect willing, intentional, prayerful generosity?

What about your calendar? Does it show any intentionality about how you spend your hours?

What about your coworkers, your classmates, your teammates, your neighbors? Would they describe you as someone who does things willingly, with intention, thoughtfully, even prayerfully? Would they describe you as generous?

Because when you live that kind of life, you’re living like Jesus lived and loving like Jesus loved — the one who gave his life willingly, intentionally, and prayerfully.

A Prayer

Father, make us these kinds of people. Help us truly live willingly, intentionally, and prayerfully, giving because you have given to us. Jesus, help us follow your example.

But more than that — change our perspective. Help us genuinely see that everything we have is yours. We can’t take a single thing with us when we leave this life. It’s all yours. So help us use it to honor you. Help us give — not only into this church, but into other ministries, to other people, to the poor.

And keep us from being people who write a check and ignore everything else. Make us people who give of our influence, our skills, and our time — because I believe that brings glory to you and joy to us.

The things of this world are a burden, and you know it. That’s why you came to free us from them, and why Colossians 3 tells us to set our hearts on things above rather than on earthly things.

So I pray for the person who’s been worried sick about finances and feeling overwhelmed — free them. And I pray for the person who’s wealthy, who has been quietly relying on the bank account and trusting the money to keep arriving — free them too. Because what all of us actually need is you. You’re the only thing we can carry into the next life.

Jesus, help us treasure you so completely now that we become like you — willing to give, intentional about it, and always in conversation with you as we do it.

As you take the bread and the cup, remember that Jesus gave himself for you willingly, intentionally, and prayerfully. Ask him to make you more like him — so that on Monday you’re generous, on Tuesday you bless someone, and on Wednesday you’re still giving. And if you sense the Holy Spirit saying give this to me, release this — open your fist. Let this be the moment your perspective shifts and you finally see what God has for you. Because he loves you. Give yourself to him now, in remembrance of him.