Some days in ministry are just a lot a more fun than others. This past one was close to as good as it gets. If you have not heard, we closed the service with a “reverse offering.” The plates were passed a second time, that time filled with envelopes enough for each person present to take one out. In each was cash ranging from $5 to $100 bills. The only instruction was to ask God to direct you as to how to give away. All we asked in return was that folks would tell us what they did with the money, if any extra was added, and tell us about the impact of the experience on you.
I wish you could have seen the looks on peoples’ faces as we passed the plate, then explained what was going on. (Actually, I wish you could have seen the look on our financial secretary’s face when the treasurer and I told her we wanted her go get us $10,000 in cash out of the bank!) A few days later, the stories are pouring in. Some about gifts to causes long near the heart. Others to situations that presented themselves in the form of a divine appointment. All I have heard so far had been have exuded strong feelings of gratitude, joy, significance and pride in personally sharing in God’s kingdom work in a way they otherwise would not have. And to be part of a church that places more importance on what happens outside our walls than within.
As a possessor of inside information, I’ve had a little extra time to ponder what to do with mine. The only word I got from God was to take what I got and multiply it by ten. So, unlike some of you, I was a little relieved not to receive the biggest bill. As to the what, I resigned myself to wait on God’s whisper to say, “This is it.” I heard it yesterday as I was taking care of some details for Mom’s estate.
For nearly three years I was her POA, and now, by no virtue other than being her eldest son, I am her executor. As a retired teacher and pastor’s widow, wealth was not in Ms. Dee’s financial equation. Some measure of that might have been had she not been so generous with what she had. Between pensions and social security we never had to worry about meeting her obligations, even in her season of long-term health care expenses. For that we were grateful.
That’s not always the case for retired ministers and their widows. In fact, a few months before my father’s own death, he had made sure another aging preacher had a burial plot for himself and his wife. Later, he led the country church he pastored to make sure that any pastor and spouse could be afforded a gravesite should, as in the case of Jesus, one be needed. So much like Daddy to make that happen.
Then I recalled that Guidestone, the annuity board that handles my retirement, has a program called “Mission Dignity.” As you might guess, it provides dignity in the form of retirement funds for aging ministers and widows who have not been as fortunate as my mother. With so many pastors serving small churches and living in their parsonages, there are a lot of them out there. But for the grace of God, that well could have been her story. So, in her spirit and memory, it was my deep joy to help meet the deep need of someone whose faithfulness to God needed to be matched by some focused faithfulness from His people. Glad I could be a small part of that. Real, real glad.
That’s my story. I can’t wait to hear yours; keep those stories coming. And if you were not there Sunday, check in with us. I think we have a few more of those envelopes to give out and blessings to unleash. Come join the party. You, and someone else will be mighty glad you did.