A SERMON BY THE REV. SHIRLEY SMITH GRAHAM
October 22, 2017
Being faithful with the little things makes it possible for us to be faithful with the big things.
Now, this isn’t the way we often think about life.
We tend to focus on the big moments, and our culture celebrates these big moments in such a way that we may be tempted to think it’s realistic to jump from one big moment to another, in a never-ending succession of achievement … from birth, to graduation, to job promotions, to big adventures. But that’s not real-life. That’s a
story about real-life, a myth.
What’s real is that most of our lives are small moments, seemingly unremarkable events when we do our part, make decisions as best we can, and, to the greatest extent possible, act in ways that are consistent with our values, values that we tune to God’s purposes.
Small moments are the routine of life. In fact, how we will act in the big moments, whether with honor or disgrace, is influenced by how we act in the small moments. Every small moment of our lives is a training ground for building the muscles that we’ll need in the big moments.
And how we will act -- how we will use our lives – is what we call stewardship. How I, as a steward of all God has given me, use what has given me. Because nothing I own is mine. Nothing you own is yours. It all belongs to God. And, when we look at it this way, when we look through the eyes of the Bible at the world, when we look at it through the eyes of Jesus, we right-size ourselves and realize, we are taken care of God’s things, taking care of God’s world.
Faithfulness in the little things enables us to be faithful with the big things. Jesus’s whole life demonstrated this, but it’s actually recorded in The Gospel of Luke, chapter 16, verse 10: “Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much.”
For me, this is summed up by a boy named Martin Cobb.
Marty was little, small in stature, just 8 years old. He had been born prematurely, survived an early heart operation, and he stayed small. Mary went to school at Elizabeth Redd Elementary School, just across the river. Three years ago, Marty was outside, playing with his sister, when a 16 year old attacked his sister in an attempted sexual assault. Little Marty decided to intervene, to protect his sister. It could have been such a little thing. “Hey, back off!” “Stop that.” “Don’t bother her.”
Such a small thing: to insist that a person should be treated with dignity, that she should be able to play outside without being assaulted. Such a small thing on an ordinary day.
What Marty didn’t think of, but many of us would have, was, if I speak up, will I become the target? If I “make a big deal” when I don’t have to, will I get in trouble?
But Marty didn’t think of the trouble he might be redirecting on himself. He just did what his mom had taught him, as a matter of routine: take care of your sister.
And his sister’s attacker killed him for it, killed Marty for being the little man who had the heart of a lion.
Now, Marty wasn’t able to be a hero magically on the day when life demanded heroism. Anyone who has been in the business of public safety or medical care or the armed forces knows, you drill as a matter of routine so that, in the day of disaster, you automatically do the right thing.
If we’re faithful in the little things, then we’re ready to be faithful in the big things.
That’s one reason why church is so important. Church is the training ground of little things, so that, when life gets big, we have the stuff to deal with it.
Little things – like going to a playground at Elizabeth Redd Elementary School, to brush sealant on outdoor furniture and rake leaves and spread mulch. Little things, like tidying up and landscaping, so that kids who may not feel safe playing at home can, at least, feel safe when they’re playing at school.
That’s how we connected with Little Marty Cobb, who have his life for his sister. It didn’t sound heroic or adventurous or big to sign up for a service project. You’d be hard-pressed to get 100 likes on Facebook for “hey, let’s go make someone’s school better!” But, if you can’t be faithful in the small things, you won’t be faithful in the big ones. 14 volunteers, on a pretty day, helping to keep the playground dedicated to Marty Cobb, a place of dignity.
Church is where we practice faithfulness … to God, to each other, to our promises to believe in a reality we cannot see but would die for, a reality in which God is working his purpose out, a reality in which justice roll down like waters, and right-acting like a never-ending stream (Amos 5:24).
That was the point Jesus was making in today’s Gospel reading, from Matthew, chapter 22. Everything in the world belongs to God. It’s all God’s. Sure, the emperor of the Roman Empire thinks the world is his, but it really belongs to God. So, Jesus says, be faithful in the little things: pay your taxes to Caesar. But be faithful also in the big things: give back everything you have to God -- your life, your labor, your time, talent and treasure.
So, where does the church fit into this equation?
Not taxes, certainly. The church is not transactional. We are not a fee-for-service organization.
The church is a miracle-enterprise. We operate according to the rules of the world just enough to get by, but the authority we’re really accountable to is God. The church has a footprint in the “real world” but operates on the principle that the real real-world is what God is doing through us for the purpose of healing the world. Nothing more, nothing less. The church doesn’t function except through the wondrous things God does through ordinary people like you and me.
The church is miracle-enterprise because we gather in God’s name to remember who we are, who we truly are, not people with social security numbers but people with souls. And our primary function is to worship God in the beauty of holiness and to allow God’s spirit to make us a holy people, not to build our own status, but simply to reflect the goodness of who God is. All the rest, the Christian education, the works of mercy, the advocacy to right wrongs, the pastoral care – all of that is meant to serve one purposes, to help us become what we are – made in the image of God. And our training ground for this grand enterprise is made possible by the little things: preparing Sunday School lessons, making lunches for homeless guests, setting the altar, rehearsing a song, calling someone who needs care, spreading mulch on a playground, filling out your pledge card.
We do these small, faithful things, not to serve ourselves, and not to pay the church’s bills. Rather we do these small things because we believe and see and know that, in these small things, God is preparing us to be faithful stewards of the big things.
