Prop 24a.05    October 16, 2005

If Caesar’s picture is on the coin, then give it to him.
It’s like saying, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”
This overtly superficial reply
        essentially dismisses the question.

But Jesus doesn’t stop there.
He goes on to set this trivial question
        in a profound spiritual context.
He continues,

        “And give to God the things that are God’s.”

In that sentence, lies a whole religion,
        at the very least, the ethical and spiritual
                way of life that defines our faith.
“Give to God the things that are God’s.”
But what things are God’s?

The answer lies in the metaphor of the coin.
Coins belong to Caesar because they are molded in his image;
        but we human beings are made in the image of God;
        therefore we belong to God.
Christianity is about giving our very selves back to God
        who gave us our selves to begin with.

St. Ignatius Loyola prayed,

        “Accept O God my memory, my will,
                my understanding, my imagination.
        All that I am and all that I have you have given me.
        I give it all back to be disposed of
                according to your good pleasure.”

For secular people, the self is a project,
        something to be molded and polished,
        then shown off to others like a new car.

But for Jesus, the self is a gift

        – given first to us by God,
        then given back to God as our sacrifice,
        then given to us again, transformed and renewed.
The same gift – passing back and forth over and over,
        and each time it’s exchanged,
                 it grows in beauty and value.
But when the self is withheld, it turns stagnant,
        like the water of blocked stream.
A life freely given is a life fully lived.
A life withheld is a life partly dead.

So how do we give ourselves to God?
We start ritually.
The ritual of gift exchange is the Eucharist.
The Greek root “Charis” means gift – God’s gift to us.
“Eucharist” means our response of thanksgiving,
        our giving ourselves back.

The Book of Common Prayer and the Epistle to the Hebrews
        call our worship a “sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving.”
Archbishop Rowan Williams asks,

        “Is praise really a sacrifice?
        Does it cost us something?”
In other words, are we really giving anything to God
        by being here this morning?
Archbishop Williams believes we are.

To praise God is to attribute ultimate worth, ultimate value
        to God, and not to ourselves.
It’s to make someone more important to us
        than we are to ourselves.
It’s to surrender the throne of the kingdom of our lives.

But self-giving only starts with worship.
This ritual gift flows into our personal life of prayer.
We give ourselves to God explicitly
        in the prayer of oblation,
        in which we dedicate ourselves to God,
        as Ignatius did in his prayer,

        “All that I am and all that I have . . . I give . . . back
        to be disposed of according to your good pleasure.”

Rowan Williams says self-giving happens in all forms of prayer.
Intercession acknowledges that we cannot do for others
        all that they need, so we give them to God,
                and we give that part of ourselves
                        that cares for them.

Petition and Confession place our own physical, emotional, and spiritual
        well-being in God’s hands.
We most fully give ourselves to God
        in contemplation, wordless, imageless, waiting for God.
There we surrender our hearts and our minds
        to the ineffable mystery of God’s Being.

As ritual self-giving flows into prayer,
        prayerful self-giving flows into action.
After describing worship as a “sacrifice of praise,”
        Hebrews goes on to say,

        “Do good and share what you have
        for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.”

To do good by serving others surrenders our natural will
        which prefers to serve our own agendas.
To share what we have is the most obvious sacrifice.
It means taking something out of our pocket
        and giving it away for the good of others.
God accepts our sharing with each other
        as a sacrifice to him.

Everything we do at St. Francis, from helping the poor
       to keeping the building and grounds
               depends on our sharing

       – the sharing which flows out of prayer

       – the prayer which flows out of Holy Communion.
Such sharing is essential to walking the walk of faith,
       living in our lives what we profess with our lips.

Communion, prayer, and sharing culminate
       in the ultimate gift of our lives to God.
They open our hearts so we can give ourselves to God
       in a way that may not even feel like self-giving,
               because it’s so full of life and joy.

In days gone by, I said this so often in sermons,
       that when I would say the first half of this sentence
       the congregation could finish it for me.
I haven’t said it enough recently.
According to St. Irenaeus,

        “The glory of God is a human being fully alive.”

We give ourselves to God
        by living life to the full, drinking life to lees

        – by living boldly, appreciatively, and lovingly.
We give ourselves to God by waking up and smelling the coffee,
        by paying attention, by taking risks.
We give ourselves to God by living, not timidly and acquisitively,
        by generously – with daring and love.

In the Fourth Gospel, Jesus says,

       “I came that you might have life,
               and have it abundantly.”
God gave us life to be lived creatively,
       imaginatively, and boldly.
It is God’s greatest delight to see us really live.

When we move beyond fear,
       when we stop anesthetizing ourselves against life
               with chemicals, distractions, workaholism,
               habitual moods and cynical attitudes,
        when we dare to dance and sing and play,
               we give God what God wants most from us.

I thank God regularly that this faith community is alive.
We are not a stuffy museum church.
We are not a grumpy curmudgeon church.
We are a community of living, breathing human beings
        who dare to vulnerable with each other.

My prayer is that we may continue
        to become more and more alive
                as a community

        – that Communion, prayer, and sharing
                will serve as spiritual exercises
                to raise our spiritual metabolism.
My prayer is that this lively community
        will inspire each of us to become more and more alive
                every day we have on this earth,
        and that our live will be contagious,
        that those around us will breathe free-er in our presence,
                and know the joy of a life surrendered to God,
                surrendered to the joy of Being itself.

                                                               Amen.