A Sermon preached by William Morris on 30th September 2007 

It used to be said that there were two things the British would do anything to avoid talking about: one was sex and the other money. Well, a quick look at the tabloid press or the TV would indicate that that self-restraint has now disappeared. However, as is so often the case, the Church of England has rather quaintly held on to these older values – with the result that we still find it distinctly uncomfortable to talk about either. So, despite the fact that my mission today is to hit you over the head and take your wallet, I’m going to start somewhere else.

Over the summer, as part of my course work, I did some reading on St Benedict and the "rule" or guidance book that he wrote for monks living in a community.  I really hadn't known that much about him or the rule before, but there is something very attractive about the rule, about that way of life.  And one of the most attractive things of all is the emphasis on the fact that God is to be found in everyday things, in everyday interactions with fellow humans in our community, in everyday work, even in what looks like drudgery.  The idea that God is to be found in every simple thing - not just in the great cathedral and the heroic act, but in the humblest church and the most menial task.   Now just this past Monday I was in south-west France, out in the country about an hour north of Toulouse.  It was a gorgeous early autumn day. One of those days were the heat hasn't completely left the air, but there is just a hint of coming coolness.  One of those days when the leaves are still on the trees, but the tress are ripe with  fruit and it‘s beginning to fall.  And as I was wandering around I came across a walnut tree, with a carpet of walnuts lying beneath it.  I picked one of them up - this one in fact - and was reminded of my reading about Benedict.  That God can be found in the simplest things, the most everyday things, the things round us.  That all of the beauty of that day could be distilled into this one small thing.  And so this walnut is for me a reminder of how little things, ordinary things can, when examined, can reveal the beauty and glory of God.

So you're sitting there thinking, I know he's going to ask for money.  Where does that walnut fit in?  Well you'll have to wait a moment for that.  But let's turn to the gospel and epistle readings.  As you may have noticed, perhaps not by coincidence, there is a theme -  which might roughly be summed up as "bad things happen to rich people".  Well, maybe we need to unpack that a bit.  The first thing to note - and one we really skip over these days - is  that there was a hard edge to Jesus' teaching.  He's not cutting Dives, the rich man, any slack here.  Dives had his chance.  He'd seen Lazarus lying at his gate, he'd ignored him, and now he was paying the price - and would do so for ever.  We need to recognize that this is not an aberration.  Jesus speaks a lot about love: God's love for us, our love for our neighbour, but he also talks about judgment.  Not us judging our fellow humans, but God judging us.  God having expected certain things of us, and us having failed to do them. And Jesus is quite clear about this.  God offers us his love, unbounded and eternal, but we can blow it - we can throw it away.  If we do not reciprocate that love to God, if we don't reciprocate that love to our neighbour, then Jesus makes clear we will be harshly judged.  [pause]  Don't worry, this isn't going to turn into a fire and brimstone sermon.  I believe that what we are liable to be judged on is actually a very small category - and it's more a failure to do some positive things that we are told to do, than the result of actually doing some of the things we are told not to do.  And principal amongst these failures to act - perhaps the only one among these that will be truly weighed in judgment - is the failure to love God and to love our neighbour.  Our Lord talks about this more than anything else in the gospels - indeed it is the essence of his ministry.  He wants us to accept the love of God - the love freely offered - so that we may gain everything.  But Jesus realizes that things may stop us from accepting that - so another  key aspects of His teaching is actually focussed on helping us remove from our lives the things that prevent us from accepting God's love.  And, in turn, perhaps the most important of these things is money or, more accurately, as we heard in the epistle, love of money.  And that's what today's readings are about.  It's not that money itself is bad - money can be used to do great, wonderful things.  The message is more that the love of money, the grip that money can exert over us - it's that that's bad.  If we love it so much that we won't part with it; if it allows us to distance ourselves from our neighbours like Dives did from Lazarus; if we use it only to our benefit, and not to help our neighbours; if we live in the lap of luxury while others starve, then money has gotten in the way of love.  If we have wealth we need to realize first that it a gift, not something that we deserve, but a gift.  And, second, that it can be highly dangerous to us.

There's a lot in the New Testament about the corrupting influence of wealth, and the perils that the rich run if they let it take over their lives - ask Dives about that.  But the reading from Timothy also gives us a slightly more positive view.  If we have money, if we are that fortunate, then we must use it well.  We must use it to help meet the gospel imperatives - to feed the hungry, to give water to the thirsty, to welcome the stranger, to clothe the naked and to visit the prisoner.  Yes, yes, you might say we do all that, we give.  But the facts speak against us. They really do.  Last year charitable giving in this country - adjusted for population, etc. - was just over a one-third what it was in the US.  And, in particular, religious giving in the UK, on a comparable basis, was just one-tenth - one-tenth - what it was in the US.  Overall, charitable giving in the UK was about £9 billion.  While that number sounds impressive, it only represents £183 per adult, just one percent of average annual income - and that overall number masks a whole series of things.  It masks the fact that as many as 30%, one-third,  of British adults give just £5 per year or less to charity, and it also masks that even amongst regular donors, the top 6% of givers make almost half, 50%, of all charitable contributions -  while half of the givers give less than £10 a month.  Let me boil this down for you - we are a rich society, we are vastly more fortunate then many, many people, and we are falling down, as a society, as a church, in our gospel obligations.  We cling to money - however much we have it is never quite enough; however much we have, we always need just a little bit more.  We'll give tomorrow, we think, and tomorrow never comes.

Well by now you may be feeling that I have actually hit you over the head, so let me emphasize that there is a positive side to this, a positive side to giving.  In addition to really helping people who are less fortunate than ourselves, in addition to obeying Our Lord's commandments, there is also something remarkably liberating about giving away our money.  It's actually bit like buying something - except the feeling lasts.  It's the feeling of returning something to God - not as a debt, not as an obligation, but as an offering.  And in giving we will actually find that we worry less about money - we find that we can do without it.  Instead of not having quite enough, in fact we find we had a little to spare.  It is a liberating experience.  We may never go and sell everything, and give it all away, but if we do some giving we will have loosened the tyranny that money - that earthly God - holds over us.  It is a good feeling.

So let me finish by talking a little about my own experience. As many of you know, I spent 15 years in the States and when I first went there I was appalled, in my British way, at all the outstretched hands.  I also insticintively felt that if I did give, it should all go to solve world hunger, or cure AIDS, rather than to the church down the road.  But slowly, slowly, my attitude changed.  And here I will turn back to my walnut, and its Benedictine associations, to talk about why I give.  First, that vital Benedictine insight that small things can be beautiful.  I started off by giving small amounts, but it did feel strangely good. Second, there's the Benedictine idea of regularity.  I found that gifts given regularly were easier to do - but also that giving regularly made it easier to give more.  Third, the Benedictine idea that giving away your possessions, what you regarded as the things that defined you, in fact freed you.  For me, obviously, I did not giver everything away.  But, nevertheless, it gave that realization that I was not dependent on money, that I could can be free.  And one last Benedictine idea - that of community.  Of upholding and supporting our local community as a place where God is at work.  So I began to give our local church in the States.  Paying for the upkeep of a building never sounds very glamorous, but in fact it's not about the building, its about the community in it.  This is where the community gathers, worships, and interacts as God's people.  It's our base for action in the local community, but its also the most solid base for action outside of that community.  I realized, and came to see in action in many, many projects, that one of the firmest foundations for solving problems, be it on a local housing estates, or halfway across the world in Africa, was that local church community. 

So am I currently giving away 10% of my income?  No.  Am I getting there?  Slowly.  What I do try to do is increase my giving each year, and use various devices like annual standing orders to prevent myself from drifting.  I also use my company's matching scheme so that every extra dollar that I give is doubled.  And it feels good - it feels good to give, and it feels good to increase.  That's not to boast, it really isn't, but it is to say the knowledge that I'm in some way helping others, that I'm in some way repaying a little of what I've been so generously given, that in some way I've got out of the grip of money - that, is a great feeling.  So we're not going to grab your wallet on the way out today.  That would be pointless, because for this to be any good for you, you have to want to give.  But if you do want to give, then start - and start today, however, small that may be.  The number is irrelevant, the habit is crucial.  And if you do start to give, even if you think your giving is as small and insignificant as this walnut, you'll soon find that, in that giving, in fact, a much greater gift has been given to you.