Personally… 

as a preacher…

there really aren’t many topics that I’m hesitant to broach––

or that I consciously avoid––

except for one…

namely, “money” and, in particular, “giving”.

You have never heard me preach a sermon about giving…

and I’m quite sure that you won’t.

Personally, it’s not something that I feel at all comfortable doing—

to do so, for me, would feel somewhat mercenary and self-serving.

But, more than that, I’m uncomfortable with it…

because it’s so easy to turn the issue into a guilt trip.

I cringed through enough of those sorts of sermons when I was younger…

and I wouldn’t want to do that to you.

Of course, I’m sure that Bob, as treasurer, would love me to preach about giving.

I’m sure he would like me to remind you about our financial situation…

and gently prod you to consider the current level of your giving…

and how long it’s been since the last time that you last reassessed it.

But I’m not going to do that…

even though a number of commentators point out that our reading this morning––

from Paul’s so-called “second” letter to the Corinthians—

is ideally suited to that purpose.

Indeed, the issue of “giving” appears to be the main point of this particular passage.

And…

despite Paul’s language about offering them “advice”… 

and not wanting to give them a “command”…

in the end…

that’s what he effectively does.

This passage seems to lay on the guilt about them not fulfilling their promises about giving.

 

Of course… 

the situation that Paul is addressing here–– 

with the Corinthians––

is vastly different from our own.

The Church there included a full cross-section of their society…

with people from every possible background.

There were simple, humble peasants;

a number of slaves––

who were regarded and treated as little better than livestock;

some merchants and artisans of modest means;

and a small number who were incredibly wealthy and well-to-do.

And Corinth, itself, was a fabulously wealthy, cosmopolitan, and commercial centre––

by first century standards.

So the church, there, wasn’t at all short on resources.

But they were being stingy.

And they were playing political games with their money, power, and influence––

both in the way that they interacted with each other…

and with Paul.

If they gave, then they wanted to get some benefit from it:

they wanted to use their benefaction to increase their power and control;

they wanted to use their benefaction to enhance their reputation and standing––

both with the church…

and within the wider Corinthian community.

But, here… 

Paul is asking them to give for the sake of the church in Jerusalem––

something for which they would not get anything in return.

And they’re hesitating.

So… 

perhaps…

a closer parallel for us would be if I were to urge and encourage you to give more––

not for the sake of this church itself…

but to support those suffering in places like Syria, India, or Fiji.

If I did, then this would be the go-to passage.

But I’m not going to do that, either.

 

Rather, buried away in our passage this morning is…

arguably…

the single most important verse in the New Testament…

if not the Bible as a whole.

 

After suggesting that the generosity with which they give––

to those who can offer them nothing in return––

is a test…

or a demonstration of their love…

he proclaims:

“For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich”.

In this simple, complex statement we have the central core of Paul’s whole theology.

Jesus Christ became “poor”.

In saying that he’s not necessarily suggesting that the pre-existent divine “person”––

whom we call Jesus Christ––

took on the poverty of human form…

as if humanity itself was a form of poverty.

Rather…

in the ancient world… 

the concepts of “poverty” and “wealth” were not primarily statements about money and finances.

They were statements about social standing.

To be “rich” was to exceed the social standing…

or the status…

into which you were born.

To be “poor” was to lose the social standing in which you were born––

to the point that you became destitute.

Paul’s description, then, is not just about Jesus “deigning” to “put on” humanity per se…

but about the sort of humanity that he took on…

namely, the lowliness of his physical origins…

the poverty of his life circumstances…

and, especially, the loss of honour and status that he experienced…

through his shameful death upon the cross––

a form of punishment that was designed to humiliate and dehumanise…

to strip the victim of every shred of social standing.

This…

Paul suggests…

Jesus Christ endured “for your sakes”.

And yet, in the original Greek, this expression can also mean “because of you”.

And it’s quite likely that Paul intends both meanings here.

That Jesus endured shame and suffering…

and died destitute…

because of us––

that is, as a result of human evil…

and our complicity in evil;

but also for our sakes––

in other words, to free us from our propensity to evil;

to free us to be loving, generous, gracious, and compassionate;

to free us that we might “become rich”…

that is, that we might become like him.

 

And Paul includes this powerful theological summary…

here…

and couches it as a “reminder”.

Because… 

for Paul…

it’s not just a brief but powerful theological summary…

it’s also the foundation upon which Christian ethics ought to be based.

According to Paul…

as followers of Christ, we’re not called to emulate Jesus…

because…

let’s face it…

we can’t.

And we’re not being called to emulate Jesus Christ in becoming “poor” like he did.

Rather, we’re called to live in response to what Jesus Christ has done for us…

we’re called to live in response to his act of self-sacrificial grace.

We’re called to live lives of gracious generosity;

we’re called to live lives of sacrificial generosity…

because of what God––

in and through Jesus Christ––

has done for us.

We’re called to act in response to the grace…

the forgiveness…

the compassion…

the acceptance…

and the love that we have experienced.

 

And that’s why I try to avoid getting up here… 

and telling you that you should do this…

or that you ought to do that…

because that’s not grace.

That’s not a call to respond with love…

because you know yourselves to be the undeserved recipients of grace; 

because you know yourselves to be forgiven and accepted;

because you know yourselves to be loved, unconditionally;

because you have experienced that grace, forgiveness, acceptance, and love for yourselves.

Everything that we do as Christians…

we do in response to what God has done for us in Jesus Christ.

And if we don’t love graciously;

or accept freely;

or forgive graciously;

or give generously;

then it’s not primarily an ethical problem that can be solved by me haranguing you.

It’s a theological problem––

it’s a problem about what’s really at the heart of your faith…

and how you experience it.