Being a Good Steward

I am always amazed at the huge effort that goes into our church’s annual pledge campaign. Every year we have a musical theatrical extravaganza as a culminating event. I know most of you were at last night’s marvelous gala in downtown Golden. I want to express my admiration and thanks to Fran Thorpe, Bill Mangham and the dozens who worked so hard on this year’s campaign. It is always a delight to see so many people have such a wonderful time at a church fund raiser! Some of the songs are still ringing in my head (but don’t worry, I won’t sing any of them).

I admire the way our pledge campaigns mix the lighthearted with the profoundly religious. In the past few weeks I have been deeply touched hearing a number of our members talk about how the church has changed their lives. In the past month we have heard wonderful personal stories of how this congregation helped people discover themselves, helped them make strong connections with others and helped them discover their ministries. We heard how for them financial generosity is the natural outgrowth of gratitude and commitment. In the last six years this church’s giving has about doubled, and our generosity has allowed us to do so much more. Our ability to nurture this congregation, to grow our faith, and to serve our community has expanded dramatically because of our generosity.

Our annual pledge drive is often called our stewardship campaign. Stewardship. Stewardship is one of those old words one rarely hears outside of church. And in church, stewardship has come to be synonymous with raising money. That is a bit odd, really, for stewardship is not primarily about money.

At the risk of being yet another Unitarian Universalist heretic, this morning I want to reflect upon the whole idea of stewardship — and I don’t intend to focus on money at all. This is not to say that money isn’t important. It is. Money is power. Where you and I put our money is where we put our hearts. How we use our money is an expression of our spiritual condition. But today I want to look at stewardship in the broadest religious context.

I want to explore what it means to be a good steward. For you and I to be truly religious people, people whose lives are faithful to what we hold sacred, you and I need to be good stewards. And being a good steward, while it includes being generous with our financial resources, also means far, far more. Stewardship is ultimately about how we spend our lives, not just how we spend our money.

Jesus loved to teach by telling stories. One of his stories, which are called parables, was a story about stewardship. The story is about three slaves. However, we need to bear in mind that slaves in biblical times were often servants who were given large administrative responsibilities. Some slaves functioned like management staff in households of the very wealthy.

The parable I have in mind tells about three slaves whose master leaves on a long journey and who entrusts each of the slaves with some money. In the old translations, the money is translated as “talents,” so the story is often called the parable of the talents. One servant is given five talents, the second is given two talents, the third is given one. For Jesus’ audience, a talent was an enormous amount of money. A worker would have to work fifteen years to earn one talent. So, think about a typical worker today who earns a modest salary of $33,000 a year. That is more than minimum wage, but less than most middle income workers earn. At that rate fifteen years’ salary would be half a million dollars. So the slave in the parable given the least amount of money, one talent, would be getting roughly half a million dollars. The second slave, given two talents, would be given about a million dollars. And the slave given five talents would be getting about two and a half million. This is a parable about servants left in charge of a lot of money.

The parable relates what the three servants did with the money. The servant given five talents put the money to use and doubled it to ten talents (roughly five million dollars). The servant given two talents put it to use and also doubled it. The third servant, who was given only one talent, was afraid. Because he was afraid of losing it, he buried it. When the master returned, the slave dug up the money and returned it. But he was vilified and sent away. For me, the key to the parable is that the third servant was petrified by fear. Because he was afraid of failure, he did nothing. He was a poor steward. While he did not squander the talent that was entrusted to him, while he did not spend it selfishly, neither did he do anything constructive with it. Stewardship in this parable is about doing something significant with the resources we are given. Stewardship is not about preserving the status quo.

What talents, what great gifts, have you and I been given? What have we been given as individuals? What have we been given as members of a family? What have we been given as members of a community of faith? What are we doing with them?

First, you and I have our unique set of gifts as individuals. Each of us is called to be a steward of these gifts. This calls for some real self knowledge and honesty. There are many ways to be poor stewards of our personal gifts. One of the most tempting is to be like the poor slave who buried his talent. Many of us have done that; many of us are doing that right now. It is so easy to let fear and humility tempt us into burying our talents. I know I have done that. Over the years I too often held back when there were opportunities to take a larger leadership role. I was interviewed recently by someone studying leaders in different organizations. One of the telling questions I was asked was when I began to see myself as a leader. I realized that I had resisted seeing myself in that way for most of my life. It was a moment of self recognition. I thought back on positions of leadership I had been in. I had been president of our church youth group, president of the high school National Honor Society, in student government in college and graduate school, president of a Rotary Club, a newspaper publisher, and have been asked to serve on more nonprofit boards than I can remember. And yet I never, never, thought of myself as a leader. Duh. “Excuse me. May I borrow your shovel? I need to bury my talent a little deeper. I need to bury it where not even I can find it.” I think maybe I was a bit afraid of accepting responsibility.

I am not the only one in here who has buried his or her gifts. It is so easy to do.

Our gifts are given to us to use. Fear, often masquerading as reticence, as not wanting to be overly assertive, as not wanting to be arrogant or self important, or as a simple lack of confidence, can cause us to bury our gifts. One of the things we can do for each other is help each other find and use our gifts. What do people like and admire about you? Do they see qualities in you that you don’t see in yourself? Pay attention to that; others often see things in us we have trouble seeing ourselves.

This is why I found the recent stewardship statements and the marvelous sermon last week by Kit Ketcham so touching. They shared stories of how people came to find their voice here, came to find their passion, came to find their gifts and learn to share them. In this religious community we can discover who we truly are. In this religious community we are safe to develop our hidden talents.

Stewardship is first about knowing what we have been given that is precious. Stewardship is then about using our gifts so that they contribute to our common life, so that you and I fulfill our destinies.

Beyond the gifts we possess as personal qualities, you and I are entrusted with great gifts as we form relationships in our families and with our closest friends. As a son, as a husband, as a father, as a friend, my life becomes entwined in a network of close human relationships. These relationships of love and commitment involve me and include me, and they also transcend me. While my family includes me, it is something beyond me. This is true of your family and your innermost circle of friends. Each of us is part of a network of love and close personal relationships. We give life to that network as it gives us life.

I believe stewardship is also about taking responsibility for these relationships that come into our lives. In our families we are given the gift of life. In our families we are given the gift of fundamental human values such as compassion, sharing, kindness, love of learning, the dignity of work, the joy of celebration. This is also true of the friends who come into our lives. True friendships have a life of their own; true friendships are blessings that help both friends flower and grow.

We need to be stewards of these intimate loving relationships. We need to give them the time and the love they need to grow. Being a good steward means I need to preserve and strengthen the tender bonds of my relationship to my wife, to my children, to my dear friends. Being a good steward means that the lives of the people who know us are blessed by having been in relationship with us. Being a good steward means that we make the loving networks of our families and our friendships are made stronger and more enduring.

We have our personal gifts. We have the gifts of family and friends. Yet you and I have been entrusted with far more than this. We have been given precious gifts by people we know only slightly and by many people whom we have never met.

Here, in this blessed community of faithful, generous, dedicated people, you and I have been entrusted with a precious inheritance. We have received an inheritance of a rich tradition of religious freedom, of a religious tradition of love, of spiritual depth, of searching, of freedom. I preach today as a temporary steward of this pulpit, a pulpit I received from Leon Hopper, Joe Willis, Robert Latham and others.

Each of us has received a rich inheritance here. The majority of us are here in a sanctuary we did not build. We arrived and found a place prepared for us. We have all received a great legacy. We are the heirs of Emerson and Thoreau, of Francis David and Michael Servetus, of Margaret Fuller, Olympia Brown and Susan B. Anthony, of Theodore Parker and William Ellery Channing. Indeed, we are the heirs of Jesus, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr., the Buddha and Mohammed. We are heirs of countless anonymous people who have given of themselves to preserve a dream of human life that transcends the prison of the self, a vision of life committed to love, truth and community.

Ultimately, you and I are stewards of a dream. We are stewards of a dream of what life can be if we will live together in love and in faithfulness to what we hold sacred. We are stewards of a dream that gives life meaning, a dream that connects us with dreamers since the dawn of time. As the lovely poem by Langston Hughes reminds us, without dreams life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.

You and I are stewards of a dream. We inherited that dream. Together we preserve that dream. More importantly, together we extend that dream. We open our arms to welcome others who share that dream and who want to be part of making it more real in our lifetimes. We seek to serve others and to witness to the power of this dream of love and life.

This, my friends, is what it means to be a good steward.
Being a good steward is all about accepting the precious gifts we have been given — gifts of talents, of relationships, of a dream of rich and abundant life. Being a good steward then means using these gifts in such a way as to create more of all those things we love.

Stewardship is not about just how we spend our money. Ultimately stewardship is about how you and I spend our lives.

When we spend our lives with those we love, extending the circle of compassion, in the service of our dream, our lives are transformed. When we give our lives, we touch the holy.
May each of us experience the exuberant joy of good stewardship. May your life and my life build a legacy of love and joy.

Amen.