Maybe you’ve heard this one before.  The chicken says to the pig: “Don’t you think it’s admirable, Mrs. Pig, that every day I give the farmer two or three eggs?  I’ve been in this barnyard for two years, and I’ve seen nothing come from you.” 

 

And the pig responds to the chicken: “Listen, when you make an offering to the farmer, it’s a contribution.  When I make an offering, it’s a total commitment.”

 

On this Reformation Sunday, Protestants remember and celebrate our particular Christian faith tradition, which began in Germany in the sixteenth century.  On October 31, 1571, an Augustinian monk by the name of Martin Luther marched up to the church door in Wittenberg, Germany, and posted ninety-five theses, declarations about how he thought the church should be reformed.  These included the ideas that every Christian has a personal relationship with God that does not need to be mediated by a priest, and that every person has the right to read and interpret the scriptures themselves rather than through a priest, and that every Christian is a minister with a calling from God – what we refer to as the “priesthood of all believers.”  These were radical and revolutionary ideas that Luther advocated, and the result was the historic eruption we know as the Reformation, which forever changed the world.

 

In the past, Reformation Sunday was often used as a time to recall the differences between Catholicism and Protestantism.  Fortunately, these days we’re finally expending more energy expressing our essential unity than focusing on our disunity.  In a world that has suddenly become much smaller and much more dangerous, the differences between Catholics and Protestants just don’t seem as important anymore. 

 

Martin Luther – who wrote our opening hymn, A Mighty Fortress – chose to post his 95 theses on October 31 because it was All Hallows’ Eve, the day before All Saints Day when the spirits of the dead are supposed to be out and about.  The idea of saints was at the heart of Luther’s issues with the church, which was particularly corrupt at the time.  The church created saints, and it was thought that saints were so good that they accumulated even more righteousness than they needed to get into heaven.  This excess righteousness was then made available to common sinners; in fact, you could purchase it for yourself or for your relatives.  The Vatican declared that by making a generous contribution to the church  -- which would help pay for, among other things, the new St. Peter’s Cathedral -- you could receive something called an “indulgence” – a letter promising immediate forgiveness of past sins and reduction of time for loved ones in purgatory.  How’s that for a stewardship campaign?

 

But Luther disagreed with the idea that God’s forgiveness is granted on the basis of financial contributions.  He believed scripture teaches that salvation is God’s free, unmerited, gracious gift to humanity in Jesus Christ; we cannot earn it, we cannot buy it from the church; all we can do is gratefully accept it. 

 

And it is because of that simple but revolutionary idea that we celebrate Reformation Sunday and the understanding that Christian faith is not about trying to please God by obeying rules, and defending beliefs, and practicing rituals, but the Christian faith is about living in gratitude to God for the gift of God’s gracious love.

 

As you might expect, Luther’s ideas were not well received by the Church.  He was excommunicated, ordered to renounce his books and teachings, and brought to trial at the Diet of Worms, where he spoke these timeless words: “My conscience is captive to the Word of God…Here I stand.  I can do no other.  God help me!  Amen.”  Martin Luther made far more than a contribution to church history; he made a total commitment to Christ, one that he lived out in courage and conviction for the rest of his days.

 

Luther wrote and said many things that have withstood the ages, but perhaps my favorite is this sage observation: “There are three conversions necessary in the Christian life: the conversion of the heart, [the conversion of] the mind, and [the conversion of] the purse.”

 

In this morning’s Epistle lesson from Second Corinthians, the apostle Paul writes, “Each of you must give as you have made up your mind…”  You notice that he does not mention the heart.  But Paul and Luther were actually calling for the same thing.  Luther lived during the time of the Renaissance, when the heart and mind were being differentiated – the heart being identified with emotions and with art, and the mind with reason and with science.

 

But Paul, in a much earlier age, did not make that same division between heart and mind.  He thought of the heart as the seat not only of our emotions but also of our reason.  In the original Greek, Paul uses the word “kardia” – from which we get the heart-related words cardiac and cardiology – but, as we just read, it is translated into English as “mind.”

 

So Paul is indeed calling here for a conversion of the heart that is simultaneously a conversion of the mind, and such a conversion will lead followers to the kind of cheerful giving that God loves.

 

The conversions of heart, mind and purse of which Paul and Luther speak are powerfully illustrated in this morning’s gospel lesson.  The setting is Jerusalem, two days before the Last Supper, and the temple is crowded with pilgrims who have come for the Passover celebration.

 

Back then, rather than passing a collection plate, people made their offering by announcing the amount to a priest and then depositing it into a trumpet-shaped container which had a wide mouth and narrow tube to discourage hands from taking out rather than putting in.

 

As Jesus watches quietly, many of the rich scribes, in outward displays of ostentatious piety, give high amounts, no doubt impressing the others watching.  “The sound of the money rolling to the bottom of the container probably reverberates throughout the area, announcing”[1] their generosity.

 

Then Jesus notices a widow enter the Temple court.  She, like most widows, is vulnerable, marginalized, and destitute, and she puts in just two pennies, which barely make a sound.  Yet Jesus tells his disciples, “this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury.  For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she, out of her poverty, has put in everything she had, all she had to live on” [43a-44].

 

The wealthy donate from their surplus; they give what they do not need not out of gratitude to God but to bring attention to themselves.  The widow’s gift is not for show, but is from the heart.  She donates what little she has, giving away what she needs to live on, and her total giving is a witness to her gratitude and absolute trust in God.  It is the widow who has had a conversion of the heart, mind, and purse, and the amount she gives – everything she has – shows that hers is not just a contribution but indeed a commitment.

 

We are in the midst of our annual Stewardship Campaign, and we are asking that you bring your completed pledge card to worship on Thanksgiving Sunday, November 20, and that during the service, you bring it forward and place it on the altar in a visible act of your commitment.  Now is the time for each of us to consider how deeply God has blessed our lives, and how we might respond with thankfulness.  Now is the time for each of us to consider our level of commitment to our God, to the Christian life, and to this body of Christ, our beloved church, the First Congregational Church of Stoughton, United Church of Christ. 

 

The heritage of the Reformation is that the Christian faith is about living in gratitude for the gift of God’s gracious love.  And so, during this season of stewardship, let us reach deep into ourselves and cultivate a spirit of thankfulness.  May that thankfulness lead to a conversion of our heart, mind, and purse.  And may our contribution be a witness to our commitment to Christ, and to this, Christ’s church.  Amen.