Matthew 22:34-46

When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

Now while the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them this question: “What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?” They said to him, “The son of David.” He said to them, “How is it then that David by the Spirit calls him Lord, saying,

`The Lord said to my Lord,
“Sit at my right hand,
until I put your enemies under your feet”‘?

If David thus calls him Lord, how can he be his son?” No one was able to give him an answer, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions.

When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

Now while the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them this question: “What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?” They said to him, “The son of David.” He said to them, “How is it then that David by the Spirit calls him Lord, saying,

'The Lord said to my Lord,
“Sit at my right hand,
until I put your enemies under your feet”'?

If David thus calls him Lord, how can he be his son?” No one was able to give him an answer, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions.

I grew up attending a mid-sized Bible church in Glen Ellyn, Illinois. Every Wednesday night, after about fifteen minutes of cramming Bible memory verses into our heads, using every song or association we could think of, my sister and I would jump in the back of our wooden paneled dodge caravan and my mom would drive us to AWANA. AWANA was a kids program at our church that encouraged, obviously, scripture memory and provided a place for us kids to play fun and competitive games. As is apparent, Bible memory was not my favorite aspect of AWANA. The game part, however, was. I lived for game time …especially tug of war. AWANA tug of war was not like other tug of war games. It involved 4 girls or 4 boys holding a circular rope and pulling in 4 directions. The goal was to pull your three opponents across your section of tape. I loved tug of war. I competed in the AWANA Olympics as a tug of war ‘professional’ athlete. And I won those tug of war Olympics! As a ten year old as nearly as tall as I am now, I remember pulling my full weight on that rope, surprising myself and my opponents with my wiry string bean strength.

As this is stewardship season and Mother Melissa has asked me to reflect on the stewardship of my life, this image of tug of war has come to mind. A few years ago, if you had asked me about the stewardship of my life, I would have been able to clearly describe to you how I saw my gifts and talents, my money and time as ‘totally, 100% completely God’s.’ But the truth is, I was resentful of that stance – it resembled a tug of war in my mind. How much of my money could I keep and still feel like I was contributing to the church and “giving to God what was God’s?” How much of my career goals did I need to devote to God so that I was being a good steward? How much time? And was God ever satisfied? I felt like a bargainer with God…it was me and it was God and ultimately our ways and means were unknown to each other…so we bargained.

This understanding of God’s expectations and my stewardship fell apart a few years ago. I was serving in ministry in that same church I grew up in. Through a series of events, I was told that I could not preach or lead at the same level of leadership as a man. This made me furious to say the least and I fought this tooth and nail. But my darkest days were private and had nothing to do with the leadership of the church. I uncovered my deepest fears about God – perhaps God made me with the gifts and talents I have – even with the calling I feel to ministry – only to set me up learn… humility. After all, this is what I was being told at the time; just because I have these “feelings” and “gifts” doesn’t mean that I am supposed to use them. And if that’s the case, what does that say about God? Does God gift us and then demand impossible requests – either demanding that we do something we are unequipped to do …or in my case, demanding that I squelch my voice, my gifts my passion? “No way.” I thought one night…maybe God’s vision for stewardship is different than this. And that realization set me free.

Stewardship is an acknowledgment of the things we’ve been entrusted with: our gifts, our time, our money, our lives and a response of giving over these things to God. This action requires a trust in God that we often find ourselves lacking. And for good reason. A demanding God who is ultimately against us is not worthy of our devotion.

So is there another way of seeing stewardship of our resources that is less tug-of-war and more Christian…more true to our tradition and scripture and the way our foremothers and forefathers understood God? Yes. The image of God we find in our tradition and in the gospels is a God who is so for us that to be for God is to be for the very best in us. To be for our God is to be for the very best for humanity. To give all our selves – our time, our energy, our money, our creative resources…is to be devoted to a God who is devoted to us – and today’s Gospel reminds us lest we forget – also devoted to our neighbor.

This view of stewardship brings to mind a dance. A dance with God that is consuming, ever changing, ever negotiating steps, space and movement. It is an artistic movement that catches us up in a whirl of color and light and motion, reminding us that we are the Beloved. We are the chosen – we are more than robots that do God’s bidding and return what we’ve been given out of a sense of compulsion to service out of guilt - but rather partners who participate in the creation and renewal of the world around us. This dance with God requires our surrender and our participation; our weakness and our confidence; and as today’s Gospel notes: our heart, soul and mind.

So how does this partnership, this dance, begin to take on embodiment, flesh? What does it look like? That’s different for all of us in our own contexts and in our communities. But in today’s Gospel, we hear Jesus share with the Pharisees the foundation of God’s call to stewardship. Perhaps we might call this foundation the rhythm our dance begins with. In this scenario, we find the Pharisees are trying to trap Jesus to test his knowledge of the law and the Hebrew scriptures, hoping he’ll stumble. When asked, “What is the greatest commandment?”, Jesus replies that “Loving the Lord God with heart, soul and mind” is the first. And then he makes the beautiful statement: “And the second is like the first.- Love your neighbor as yourself.” Loving our neighbor is also loving God. The Greek word used for “like” implies it is “of equal value, the same.” To love our neighbor is to love God. To love ourselves is to love God. Wow. This is not a new concept that Jesus brings to the world. One scholar notes that Jesus is saying to the Pharisees that the whole of Israel’s scripture may be understood as an exposition of these twin commandments. Miss these, says Jesus, and you have missed it all’. As a side note, the Pharisees would have also been familiar with the teaching of the Rabbi Hilel, a prominent Pharisee who lived in Jerusalem a few years before Jesus was born, who was challenged to teach all of the Torah, or law, standing on one foot. I love that. His response: “What is hateful to you do not do to others. The rest is commentary. Go learn.”

What’s striking about this passage to me is that our God is not a selfish God who asks for the worship of our heart, soul and mind – our stewardship – at the expense of ourselves and humanity. The surprising truth is that God is loved well when we are loved well and our neighbor is loved well. The way to loving God with heart, soul and mind is through our love for our neighbor. And God takes the lead, setting the example in Jesus. Jesus is God in flesh, sent to demonstrate God’s love for all of humanity ; beginning with the least among us. God did not show us how to live by escaping into an individualistic, transcendent, personal way of reaching God apart from loving others. No, God himself showed us that to love God is to love our neighbor. And I would note here too, that is also works the other way. When anyone loves their neighbor, without even being conscious of it, they are loving God.

A few months ago, Mother Melissa spoke of a web that we are all caught in – this web of community, of Christ’s love for us, and of our love for each other. As we contemplate what it means to be stewards of the gifts we’ve been given, particularly in this season, I hope that we’ll remember that all we’ve been given is a precious gift from God to her Beloved. And the gift comes with a call. But the call to love one another in stewardship is not a demand but a privilege that we are given to expand the web, to enliven the dance, to join in the renewal of all things even in the face of disaster. We do not have to dig in our heels, relying on “string bean strength” to fight for what’s ours in the presence of an angry and demanding God. Rather, we may see stewardship as a call to learn the rhythm of this love. To participate in wild and free movement of God as we pour out ourselves and paradoxically find ourselves filled by participation in the dance of God moving in the world.

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