Truthfully (How to Give #5)

A long time ago, in ancient history, a group of humans banded together and created a new technology, and they named that technology Facebook.

Facebook has taken over our world, but when it first appeared I had absolutely no interest. It started as a college directory — honestly, I think it began as a bunch of guys wanting girls’ phone numbers and contact info. It was only for college students. Then those students graduated and started losing the connection, so the platform opened up to everyone. Now anyone over thirteen can have a profile.

At the time I was on staff as the young adult pastor at a church in Cedar Rapids, and the young adults I ministered to were joining in droves. They’d migrated from the clunky old platform over to this clean-looking new one, and they were having a ball.

A friend told me, “If you’re their pastor, you need to join. You need to know what’s happening in their lives. You’ll be a better shepherd, a better friend, a better servant to them if you’re on there.” So I reluctantly signed up.

Sure enough, I saw some of what was happening in their lives. I saw some things that weren’t so good. And I saw an enormous quantity of blurry photos of food and cats. But I was connected.

How It Became “Our” Account

Before long I wasn’t just connected to our young adults. Other people in our church joined and found me. People from my childhood hometown sent requests. Friends from college. Former students from the school for missionary kids where my wife and I served in Venezuela. Friends from the three years we spent in Colorado. Suddenly I was reconnected to a whole crowd of people.

And many of those people were also my wife’s friends — but she didn’t have an account. So inevitably, over dinner, I’d mention that I’d read an update about someone.

Now, those who know my wife know she is a detail person. She’s remarkable at it. Which means when I come home and she asks how my day was, “fine” does not satisfy her. She wants the blow-by-blow. So when she’d ask what our friends had said about this or that and I couldn’t remember, I’d pull out my laptop and we’d scroll through together so she could read it herself.

Pretty soon she was borrowing my laptop on her own to stay connected. Eventually she started commenting — signing off with a note that it was her writing on my account. And soon enough it had become our account.

“That’s Mine. Give It Back.”

One evening we got the kids to bed and I came out with work to do. I went to my bag for my computer. Not there. I looked over, and there was my wife on the couch, laptop open, scrolling.

And in that moment, seeing my wife on my computer, the thought that surfaced was: That’s mine. Give it back.

I was at least mature enough not to say it out loud. The only reason I remember the moment at all is because of what happened the next day. I was meeting with a young married couple whose kids were four and two, and somewhere in the conversation I told them about my internal reaction. I thought it was a little funny.

The young mom did not find it quite so funny — because she heard those exact words in her home every single day. She looked at me and said, “Oh, your inner two-year-old was coming out.”

She was right. In that moment I wasn’t seeking to be generous, to let my wife have time reconnecting with friends. I was calculating what was mine and wanting to keep all of it for myself.

I was being a keeper.

Do You Know a Keeper?

I don’t mean “a keeper” the way your parents used it — that great guy or gal they told you to hang onto. And I don’t mean a goalkeeper. I mean a person who wants to keep everything for themselves.

This is the sibling who wants the toy to himself when he’s young and the inheritance to himself when he’s old. This is the coworker who wants you to swap a day off with him, but when you need one, absolutely not. This is the classmate who wants your notes so he knows the homework but has no intention of helping with yours. This is the person who won’t even let someone with three items cut ahead of them in the checkout line, because everything must be kept.

Keepers are exhausting, aren’t they? Draining to be around.

Right now you may be picturing a sibling. A family member. A coworker. The person down the hall. An ex.

The person I want you to picture is the one in the mirror.

All of us have moments when we’re more keeper than giver. We want the last serving of ice cream for ourselves. We want to keep our time — we won’t go volunteer even though it technically fits the schedule, because we just don’t want to. We don’t want to hand these things over. We want to keep them.

Why We Keep

Why? Why is there something in us that wants to hold on?

I think deep down something got twisted, and we came to believe that if we give something away, we lose. And if we lose it, we’re somehow diminished — less good, less happy, less satisfied. So we conclude we have to keep in order to hold onto our happiness, our joy, our contentment. Better to be a keeper than a giver.

But God is not a keeper.

God did not create this world and then try to hoard it. He made the world, made Adam and Eve, and said: here you go, take care of it, isn’t it beautiful, I’m rather pleased with it, and I’m giving it to you. He gives us his wisdom. He gives us his presence in Jesus and in the Holy Spirit. He gives us grace. God gave everything — Jesus gave his very life for us. God is a giver.

Here’s the thing. If you follow Jesus, then you know you’re meant to live like Jesus lived and love like Jesus loved. Which means you’re also meant to give like Jesus gave. Do not be a keeper.

And yet we keep living it out anyway, even though it doesn’t square with our faith. That’s the rub. Because when we give, we are in effect saying, “God, I trust you.” When we keep, we’re living in fear, saying, “God, I don’t trust you to provide.”

Working Through a Difficult Text

Second Corinthians 9:8–11 takes us deeper into this. Paul writes that God is able to make all grace abound to us, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, we may abound in every good work — as it is written, he has distributed freely, he has given to the poor, his righteousness endures forever. He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply our seed for sowing and increase the harvest of our righteousness. We will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God.

I’ll readily admit the translation I usually teach from is a little harder to follow on these particular verses. I look at multiple translations every week, and several others render this passage more accessibly. I seriously considered switching this week — and then decided not to wimp out.

Here’s why. The translators I usually work from aimed for a word-for-word approach. Now, a truly word-for-word translation of the Bible is impossible — if we had one, none of us could read it. There has to be some massaging of the text to make it readable. But this team had a bias, if you will, toward staying as close to the original as they could, which is why I tend to teach from it.

I don’t say that to imply it’s superior to thought-for-thought translations. We keep other translations on our resource table, so clearly we’re not opposed to that approach — for some people it’s exactly the right fit and it’s what helps them learn. But there are important concepts buried in this wording, so let’s chew through it together.

“Abound” Means Overflow

Start with that first phrase: God is able to make all grace abound to you.

I don’t know about you, but “abound” isn’t in my daily vocabulary. I don’t look at my kids and say, “Wow, your bowl is really abounding with animal crackers.” I don’t tell my neighbor, “My yard is really abounding with weeds — how about yours?”

But stop and think and we do know what it means. It shares a root with abundance. To have something in abundance is to have excess, to be overflowing with it. That’s why some translations simply use the word “overflow”: God is able to make all grace overflow to you.

Hear that today. God’s grace overflows to you. He doesn’t give you a little. He doesn’t give you exactly enough. He doesn’t dispense the minimum required. Through Jesus Christ, his grace overflows.

And notice the key word. It isn’t just God’s presence that overflows — it’s God’s grace. The simplest definition of grace is getting what you don’t deserve. Grace is a gift.

Christianity holds that humanity sinned against our Creator, and that sin separated us from God. The penalty is death. But rather than make us pay it, God gives us the gift of forgiveness through Jesus going to the cross and dying in our place. That is a gift. That is grace. And it’s through Jesus’s work on the cross and out of the tomb that God’s grace can overflow to you.

We genuinely don’t grasp how much grace God has for us. We live so thoroughly in the here and now. Our eyesight is fixed on what’s immediately around us and our own circumstances. What we need is to lift our eyes — as Colossians 3 says, to set our minds on things above. When we do, we begin to see how much God’s grace overflows toward us. God loves you. He is passionate about you. It overflows.

Sufficiency in All Things at All Times

Why does God overflow his grace to us? Look at the next phrase: so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.

There’s another big word: sufficiency. The translators evidently knew some of us would stumble, because in my Bible there’s a footnote marker beside it. Follow it down and the alternate reading is: all contentment.

God’s grace overflows to you so that you will be content. And notice when you’re to be content: in all things, at all times.

If we’re honest, we are not content in all things at all times. Do you know why? Because our eyes are on our circumstances — on what’s happening around us and inside us. We’re so fixed on ourselves that we can’t see God’s overflowing grace, and so we never live in that sufficiency, that contentment of knowing we already have everything we need and more.

So what do we have to do? Put our eyes on God. Recognize how vast his love is, as demonstrated at the cross. When we become cross-centered people, we see how much grace is aimed at us, and suddenly contentment is possible.

Which means you can be content whether you’re poor or rich. Single or married. Sick or healthy. You can be sufficient in all things, at all times.

The Psalm Paul Quotes — and My Wrong Assumption

To drive the point home, Paul quotes Psalm 112:9: He has distributed freely, he has given to the poor, his righteousness endures forever.

When I read that this week, I made an assumption. I assumed the “he” was God. After all, God has distributed freely — we see it at the cross, where he gives grace freely. He gives to the poor: sometimes he provides for the materially poor, and as we discussed last week, some of us are relationally poor and some emotionally poor, but every one of us was spiritually poor and God has given us his grace. So of course his righteousness endures forever.

Except it isn’t God.

The context of Psalm 112 is the person who loves, worships, and fears God. It opens by pronouncing blessing on the one who fears the Lord and delights greatly in his commandments — describing how their offspring will be mighty, how the generation of the upright is blessed, how wealth and riches are in their house and their righteousness endures forever. The whole psalm describes a person who worships God, fears him, and walks in his statutes — and that person distributes freely and gives to the poor.

Paul is driving the point home: because God’s grace overflows to you, because you’ve received so much, you are not to be a keeper. It’s meant to flow through you. You are to distribute freely and give to the poor.

Give financially to the materially poor. Give your presence to the relationally poor. Give your wisdom to the emotionally poor. And give Jesus, absolutely, to the spiritually poor.

If you follow Jesus, you are not to take everything God has given you and keep it. You are to give it away.

But What If I Give and End Up With Nothing?

As we said at the start, this kind of giving is hard. Genuinely difficult. Because giving like that means not having it anymore, and that leads straight to the fear: if I give that much to the poor, I’m going to become poor.

Paul seems to anticipate exactly that reaction, which is why he writes verse 10: he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.

Two weeks ago we named an assumed truth — that everything we own is ours — and replaced it with the actual truth: everything you have is God’s. You are merely a steward, a caretaker. Which is precisely why God can tell you to give it away. It isn’t yours to hoard. It belongs to him. So when he tells us to give freely and distribute generously, we do it, because it reflects his heart.

And notice who supplies the seed in the first place. God gives the sower seed to plant, which grows into wheat, which gets harvested, whose kernels get milled into flour, which becomes the bread that fills your stomach. If God could supply it initially, look at what Paul says next: he can also multiply your seed.

In other words, you can give it away and not end up with less. If God provided it the first time, he can provide it a second time, and a third, and a fourth — because when he sees you giving like that, he keeps giving you more. You’re reflecting his heart.

A Story of Learning to Trust

Last week I shared a video about a family who had adopted children out of foster care, then realized that rather than only rescuing kids already in the system, they might help a young mother whose child would otherwise end up there. So they welcomed a pregnant seventeen-year-old into their home, and they’re helping raise her baby while she attends college. What came through in that story was joy — we were talking about giving cheerfully, and despite the enormous sacrifice, they were overflowing with it.

This week I want to share a different story, one about trusting God with money.

A husband and wife, married nine years with four children, had been fighting constantly about finances. Money was tight, largely because they weren’t planning well, and the stress of living paycheck to paycheck was constant. Their pattern was to pay every bill first and then see whether anything remained for giving. Usually nothing did. They never felt like they had the money.

Then they took a financial course, and one line reframed everything. The teacher pointed out that when people say “I paid all my bills and there’s nothing left to give,” the problem is that the budget is upside down. Give first. Then handle the bills. That opened their eyes to the idea that God asks for the first of our fruits — and explicitly invites us to test him on it.

So they debated whether to start giving a full ten percent, and they were nervous. They ran the budget and the numbers went negative. On paper it did not work. They prayed about it, took a leap of faith, and did it anyway.

There were months when they came very close to missing a bill. And every time, somehow, the money arrived. A few months in, he received an unexpected promotion with a sizable raise. They adjusted their giving to match — and the money fight simply went out of their marriage, because God was genuinely first in their finances.

What I hope you heard is that they had to reach a place of real trust. On paper it made no sense. But they said, “God, we’re going to trust you, because you’re the one who gave us all of this. It isn’t technically ours. We’ll give first and trust you to provide and multiply the seed.” And he did.

Enriched in Every Way — Not Just One Way

But there’s another piece here, and it’s in verse 11: you will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God.

Last week I mentioned some baggage I’ve carried around giving — how I kept giving but didn’t do it cheerfully. Part of that came from my interpretation of what my childhood church taught me: that when you give ten percent, when you give sacrificially, God returns it a hundredfold. It made God sound like an investment scheme. And when I didn’t see that play out, it left me doubting. So I still gave, but with a lot of hang-ups attached.

Don’t hear me saying God will never provide for you financially when you give financially. Notice the text: you will be enriched in every way. My childhood church focused on being made rich — but the passage doesn’t say you’ll be made rich financially.

For some of you, yes — as you give generously, God will keep pouring into you financially, because he knows you reflect his heart and will pass it on to others.

But for some of you, the worst thing God could do would be to enrich you financially, because you would end up trusting your finances rather than the one who gave them. That is not where God wants you spiritually. The kindest thing he could do might be to let you keep struggling, so your dependence stays on him — and instead you’re enriched spiritually. Enriched emotionally. Enriched relationally. And maybe one day, financially too.

But don’t wait for that day to start giving. The couple I described began giving first, and God provided — including that promotion. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard a similar story: someone reads that Malachi 3 invites us to test God on this, decides to test him, starts giving, and things shift. Sometimes weeks later. Sometimes months. Sometimes years. God has done it in my own life.

So don’t mishear me — God can absolutely provide financially. But the text says he will enrich you in every way. Maybe right now he’s working to enrich you in an area that has nothing to do with money. Maybe finances aren’t your growth edge at all, and he’s after something else entirely. So ask: how do I need to give in those areas? With my time? My influence? The skills he’s given me?

Where Are You Being a Keeper?

Look at the logic: enriched in every way, to be generous in every way. The entire reason God pours into you — overflowing his grace — is so that you will overflow in good works. He enriches you so you can be generous. He enriches you in every way so you’ll be generous in every way.

So how do you need to be more generous?

Maybe it is financial, and God is inviting you to do what that couple did — test me on this, begin to give, whether that’s eight or ten or twelve percent. Trust me. I provided the seed; I can multiply the seed. I can take care of you.

Maybe it’s your time. Maybe that’s where you’ve been a keeper — genuinely selfish with it — and God is saying he wants more of it. That might mean time in the Scriptures. Or it might mean time with a specific person he’s laid on your heart, someone who is themselves a keeper and a drain on your emotions. Being like Jesus may mean going and giving that person some of your time, some of your presence, some kindness.

Maybe it’s a skill you’ve been holding onto, and God is saying: I want you to bring that into this church. I want you to volunteer in that ministry. I want you to take that skill to your neighbor. I enriched you with it — now will you be generous with it?

Generosity Produces Thanksgiving

And look at what the last phrase promises: this produces thanksgiving to God.

When you give the way Jesus gave, it produces thanksgiving — in the person who receives, and in you.

Over the course of our seven and a half years as a church, we’ve held only a couple of capital campaigns, and I have been genuinely blown away by the generosity I’ve seen. The fact that we got into this building debt-free and remodeled it is a testimony to that generosity. And you know what happens? I can’t help but thank God. You produced thanksgiving in me.

Some of you feel it too when you walk in. Aren’t you thankful we don’t have to tear down every week? Aren’t you thankful people don’t wince at our building? Aren’t you thankful that someone can walk through those doors and immediately sense they’re welcome — that the space itself says you belong here?

I can’t count how many people who aren’t part of our church family have walked in and the first word out of their mouth was “wow.” We didn’t spend lavishly. We did much of it ourselves. And still people walk in and think, this is nice — and they’re thankful something like this exists. Giving at that level produces thanksgiving in them and in you.

So Why Would You Want to Be a Keeper?

Let me end with a question. After all of this — after 2 Corinthians 9:8–11 — why in the world would you want to be a keeper?

Why be a keeper when God’s grace overflows to us? Why be a keeper when God can make us sufficient in every circumstance? Why be a keeper when God is calling us to abound in every good work? Why be a keeper when it’s God who supplies and enriches us? Why be a keeper when our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ was a giver?

Father, transform us into the likeness of Jesus. Make us givers. Keep us from hoarding our finances, our influence, our skills, and our time. Help us open our fists, let go, and give — for your glory and for the joy of others. Use us to produce thanksgiving in others, and then bring us to a place where we’re thankful you chose to use us at all.

For the person struggling to trust — struggling to believe that giving this up won’t leave them diminished — remind them that your grace overflows to them, and that you’re calling them into that same radical generosity.

Make this church a place abounding in generosity, so that we reflect your heart. Let people sense your grace through us. Let them sense how much you love them, and the lavish lengths you went to in dying generously for their sins so they could be saved and redeemed and brought into relationship with you.

To be transformed into that image, we have to trust you. So grow our faith. Expand our desire for you. Expand our view of you. Bring us to the place where we can give without worry and without fear — not out of compulsion, but with joy, willingly and cheerfully, because we trust you to provide. Amen.