Last week, Truman Moore talked about our roots which ground us, both our historical roots and our stewardship image of the pews as roots. Today, I've been asked to talk about the trunk of our tree, this communion table - our generosity.

 Many of you know I'm a teacher. When I plan a new course, I use a "tool for thinking" about my learning objectives for the students - heart, head, and hands. First, I reflect on what I want the students to feel about themselves, as members of our learning community and as novice engineers. Second, I think deeply about what they need to know - what are the foundational concepts and processes. Third, I consider what I want them to be able to do - work effectively in a team, explain their solutions to a client or a reporter, and critique their own work. This heart-head-hand "tool for thinking" is also a good way for me to share my experience of the generosity of this community.

 When I first encountered Central, I was still very wounded and hurt from ugly behavior in my previous church, which I had left several years earlier. Jay and Sally Harrell invited me to Table Talk at the Harrisons', promising it was a safe and welcoming space. With fear and trembling I went, learning hard on my theater experience to project who I wanted them to see, while protecting my real self. I expected the questions - you know, those seemingly innocent questions that are really used to size you up and see if you will be allowed into the group - Where do you work? (aside: are you rich enough for us?) Where did you go to college? (aside: are you smart enough for us?) How many children do you have? (aside: do you have a "normal" family?) But the interrogation never happened - I was just accepted in the way I was presenting myself. Wow! Radical generosity of the heart.

 A week later, I came to my first service here. A first glance, the bulletin was just like every other I had seen - the name of the church, a nice picture, and the date. But under the date was a statement:

"No matter who you are or where you are on life's journey, you are welcome here!"

 

"Yeah, right", I thought. If they only knew who I really am, I'd be sitting in a pew alone. Or maybe, I'd never be left alone, instead folks would be continuously trying to re-form me, to show me "the way", to gently push me into being what they thought I should be. So I decided I would have to test the truth behind this claim.

            

The next month I went back to Table Talk, but got off the stage and promised myself to be authentic. When an appropriate opening came, I shared that I was a non-theist, that I don't believe in a non-human, superior-being, with the power to intervene and alter the laws of science or people's behavior, and the free will to decide when to intervene and when not to. I expected shock, horror, embarrassment on the faces around the table. What I saw were open faces of acceptance, consideration, and (could it be?) agreement. The lovely red-head across the table said, "Well, if that's what you mean by God, I think I agree with you." I had risked my deepest thoughts and was returned generous love. Since that night, I have often risked, within this community, what I am struggling to understand, what I am thinking about, how I am trying to change, and, each time, have found our covenant community responding with "loving concern for and responsibility to each other." We are a thinking people, generous in mind.

            

Finally, let's talk about the generosity of our hands. I see the work of our hands so often and in so many places. Next week, as we reflect on the leaves of our stewardship tree, we will honor all the ways in which we care for each other and for others outside of Central. So I want to take a minute and talk about one of the forbidden subjects in Southern hospitality - our financial generosity. I'm going to step out here, leaning on the phrase from our covenant "with loving concern for and responsibility to each other and the world".

 

At the end of March, each of us will choose whether or not to make a financial pledge to Central. I grew up going to a mainline denomination church and starting pledging in high school. When my husband and I got married, we combined our habit of giving regularly. That first year together we found joy in so many new "first", including our first time filing a tax return together. While doing our taxes, we talked about our charitable giving and set a goal to surpass the year before by a certain amount. Every year since then, tax time is when our family reconsiders our financial giving and decides to continuing stretching.

 

I've had many friends ask me, "How much should I give? Do I use my after-tax income to calculate the percentage? What if I lose my job?" My response is not a set of answers, but a set of advice: it doesn't whether you use before tax or after tax income;

the main point is the commitment - the promise to the community; begin where you are and take a step forward - sign a pledge card if you never have before, increase your percentage if you regularly give, don't stop at 10% because it feels great to go beyond.

 

I know that we all want to give - we want to support this place that is so sacred to us and to support the work for justice and peace that we do. So why do we hesitate? Fear. Fear of being a burden on our children in our final years. Fear of not being able to afford the right college for our children. Fear of the rising cost of health care. Fear of a disaster beyond our control, like a fire or a flood. And we hesitate because we forget. We forget that this very moment is all we can depend on. We forget that the Now is more important than the Future. We forget that we belong to a covenant community.

 

Fear is an awful thing. It's a four-letter "f" word that holds incredible power - power to keep us from doing what is good, what is right.

Power to stop us from taking risks.

Power to maintain the status quo, to stop disruption, to inhibit change.

Power to stymie innovation, and to limit opportunity.

Fear is bad. Fear stands between us and a better world. It stands between us and our better selves.

 

Today I'm encouraging us to not live in fear, but to live in faith. To ground ourselves deeply and to stretch our generosity, for the benefit to ourselves, to others, and to all of creation.

 

1. http://hechingerreport.org/content/theres-no-thing-f-computer-science_18590/