The Magnificent Seven

(the 2006 “Sermon on the Amount”)

a sermon preached by the Rev. Dr. Tim W. Jensen
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Sunday April 2nd, 2006


OPENING WORDS:

"We build on foundations, we did not lay.
We warm ourselves at fires, we did not light.
We sit in the shade of trees, we did not plant.
We drink from wells, we did not dig.
We profit from persons, we did not know.
We are ever bound in community." --Peter Raible


Timothy Muldoon lived alone in the Irish countryside, with only a pet dog for company. One day, the dog died, so Muldoon went to the parish priest and said, "Father, my dog is dead. Could ya' be sayin' a mass for the poor creature?"

Father Patrick replied, "I'm afraid not, my son. We cannot have services for an animal in the church. But there is a new denomination down the lane, some Unitarians, and there's no tellin' what they believe. Maybe they'll do something for the creature."

Muldoon said, "Thank you Father, I'll go right away. Tell me, do ya' think $5,000 is enough to donate for the service?"

“Five Thousand Dollars!” Father Patrick exclaimed, "Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus! Why didn't ya' tell me the dog was Catholic?”


I’ve been thinking a lot lately about something Woody said at my installation. I’m sure you’ll remember it if your were there, because it was such a vivid image. During his “Charge to the Minister,” Woody advised me not to think of myself as a shepherd, but rather to be the sheepdog. Now I didn’t grow up on a farm, so my understanding of sheepdogs is really pretty limited. Basically, when I think of a sheepdog I think of a big, white hairy English sheepdog like the one in the Warner Brothers cartoons -- calm, courageous, quietly dignified, and always a step ahead of Wiley Coyote. A dog with a personality like the Golden Retriever we had when my kids were little -- a dog who let them tug on her ears, and pull her tail, and dress her up in funny clothing, and who never even let out a growl unless she heard something sinister prowling around outside the house in the middle of the night.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I was having lunch with Woody, and I asked him whether this was pretty much the same image he’d had in mind when he’d said what he said nearly three years ago. And he thought about it for a moment and then said No, that actually he’d been thinking of something more along the lines of a Border Collie.

So I’m shifting a little into Border Collie mode today, just to see if whether by barking a little more loudly and nipping at a few heels, I might be able to get our whole flock back grazing in greener pastures again. There were a lot of wonder things said about the ministry and congregational life at my Installation, most of which I know have now mostly passed from memory, but one thing I will never forget is how (notwithstanding my expressed desire for a “low key” celebration) Mary DeGarmo organized a fantastic party -- for months afterwards people referred to it as my “Coronation” -- yet despite having spent two full years in the Ministerial search process, and spending tens of thousands of dollars to find and bring me here, there was nothing in the church budget to pay for an Installation. Basically, all of the out-of-pocket expenses for that entire event were picked up by one very generous, anonymous donor, while many others also pitched-in in various other ways to make certain that the party was successful and that everyone had a good time.

And for me, this points to a profound paradox deep within the soul of the First Religious Society. Individually, the members of this congregation are some of the most generous and most committed, truly “liberal” people I have ever had the privilege of knowing anywhere. But institutionally, this same church often practices the old fashioned New England value of frugality almost (and I say again ALMOST) to the point of parsimony.

I have no real problem with frugality per se -- since I tend to be a pretty frugal guy myself. I drive a ten year old pick-up truck with over 100,000 miles on it; I buy almost all my clothes at Marshall’s (and what I can’t find there I get at Sears)... I don’t have any credit card debt; I don’t take exotic vacations; I don’t own a sailboat or a summer home (although I think someday I might like to); my kids are both through school, and I’ve even paid off all of my own student loans (which for someone who spent seventeen years in college and has five earned degrees is really saying something).

So I feel I understand the importance of getting your money’s worth, and the value of that wonderful old New England adage: “Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without.” Yet when it comes to “doing Church,” sometimes this attitude can be a little misdirected. Church budgets ought to grow out of the ability of people to contribute generously, rather than the effort to “do Church on the Cheap.” Sure, we all want to get good value for our money. But the real point of being part of a Church like FRS is to support and promote our good values in the wider world. And who wants to pinch pennies doing that?

Here’s an interesting bit of information for you. Last year the average pledge here at the First Religious Society in Carlisle was about $915/family. That’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of, and I’m certain there are many congregations around the country who would be thrilled to have that high an average. But just down the road at the First Parish in Concord, the average annual pledge is about $1500 per household; and I’m told that the averages in Bedford and Lexington are about the same.

I realize that just looking at averages can sometimes be deceiving; and that our average pledge, for instance, doesn’t include all of the money that people contribute to this church in others ways, such as through our service auction or other fundraising activities, or simply by paying church-related expenses out of our own pockets, and then pocketing the receipts. But then again, the same is also true for these other churches as well. If we really want to understand the significance of the “average” pledge, we need to look a lot more closely at how experienced church fundraisers understand a congregation’s annual pledge campaign.

To make the math easy, lets assume a hypothetical congregation of 100 households with an average pledge of $1200 a year. Nowadays this is pretty much considered the “back of the envelope” benchmark of healthy stewardship for Unitarian Universalist congregations across the country. Anything higher than that is considered exemplary, and anything lower indicates room for improvement (although obviously every situation is unique, and there is a fair amount of regional variation).

But hypothetically, an average pledge of $100 a month in a congregation of 100 households would result in a canvass goal of $120,000. Experienced church fundraisers would divide that $120,000 goal into four equal amounts or “quartiles” of $30,000 each.

The first quartile they would expect to raise from the 5% of the congregation who comprise the largest contributors -- in this example, five contributions averaging $6000 apiece.

The next quartile they would raise from the 10% of the congregation who are the next highest givers: 10 gifts averaging $3000 apiece.

The third quartile consists of the next 20% of contributors, so again 20 gifts averaging $1500 each.

And the fourth quartile they would look to raise from the remaining 65% of the contributor pool, the majority of whom obviously would be pledging somewhere below the average.

Now it’s been my experience that when folks first stumble across this information, one of the first things they ask is “What’s wrong with those people in the fourth quartile? Why don’t they contribute more?”

And the answer is, there is nothing wrong with the people in the fourth quartile, and often they are contributing as much as they feel they can afford. It’s a statistical phenomenon: the 34th largest contribution probably isn’t that much different from the 36th; both are by definition above the Median, and probably above the Arithmetic Mean as well.

But one of those gifts gets averaged in with those of the larger contributors, while the other is averaged with smaller contributions from people who may be living on limited, fixed incomes, or who perhaps are only marginally involved in the life of the church in the first place.

And the more significant point is that every contribution is important in its own way, large or small. This is not a one-size-fits-all organization, and it needs the support of the entire range of potential contributors in order to flourish and thrive.

Personally, I’m much more interested in what inspires someone to become an above-average pledger: part of that elite 35% who do 75% of the work, and pay 75% of the bills, and (if you could actually figure out a way to measure such a thing) probably receive 75% of the spiritual benefit from participating as active members of a faith community as well.

Obviously, one criterion is that you have to be able to afford it. But affluence isn’t nearly as significant a factor as you might imagine. Statistically, Carlisle is one of the most affluent places in the world. I’m told that the median household income here is approximately $130,000 a year. Yet even in a place like this, people of very similar means will give dramatically different amounts to the church, regardless of the relative size of their incomes in comparison to those of their neighbors, or the general population.

A much more important characteristic than financial means is personal motivation, and this is generally something that originates from within the individual contributors themselves. Above Average Givers tend to share certain qualities with one another. The first is that they believe in the mission of the church, and have a vision for its future. This isn’t a private vision which they keep to themselves; it’s a shared, common vision, which they have helped to create in conversation with one another, and which they are committed to making real. Above Average Givers also tend to be committed to the people around them, or (as we like to put it around here) to the “love and regard” of their “neighbours & fellow cretures.” They trust one another, and build upon that trust in order to support something larger than themselves.

Above Average Givers also typically embody the spiritual values of Generosity and Gratitude. They know that they have been blessed in their lives in countless ways, and they are eager to share those blessings with others as best they can. And finally, Above Average Givers also tend to be leaders. They aren’t afraid to be out in front of the rest of the crowd, doing more than their fair share and encouraging others to follow their example. They realize that leadership is more about service and sacrifice than it is recognition or glory -- service in the sense of being a servant to something larger and more important than ourselves, sacrifice in the sense of making the world around us more sacred through our own grateful and generous presence in it.

Now the reason I’ve shared all this boring technical information about “quartiles” and “average pledges” with you is this. When you compare our current pledge profile to the profile predicted by the theoretical paradigm, one very obvious thing immediately jumps out. The paradigm says that this church ought to have five gifts averaging $6000 apiece. We have two. The paradigm also says that we ought to have ten gifts averaging $3000 apiece, and we appear to have nine...but if you assume that three of those actually belong with those of the first quartile givers, we are four short there as well.

Three plus four equals seven (which is math that even an English major with five college degrees can do). And therein lies the tale of the title of this sermon: The Magnificent Seven.

I don’t know who you are, but I have faith that you are here, somewhere, and destined to become important participants in the next generation of lay leadership of this congregation. Your vision will help shape our shared vision, and your commitment will help make that vision real. You may not be ready to step forward today, or this year, or perhaps even for several years. Or it may just be that the only reason you haven’t stepped forward already is that no one has ever really asked you, so you’ve never really thought about it before. But whatever the reason, until you do step forward, this congregation will never be able to achieve its full potential to serve the spiritual needs of this community of high achieving, above average souls.

And don’t think that this lets the rest of you off the hook either (this is the Border Collie barking now). This year the Finance Committee has asked for a 15% across the board increase in congregational giving just to keep up with inflation, and to compensate for the anticipated smaller return on our invested trust funds.

Basically, if your pledge hasn’t changed since the time of my Installation, your contribution is worth about 10% less than it was three years ago.

I know that these are difficult financial times for many of us, and that often it seems like a struggle just to make ends meet. But if we wait until everything is perfect in our financial lives before deciding to be generous, we will never be generous at all. This church needs all of our contributions, large and small, if it is to flourish and thrive in the days and years ahead.

Here’s one concluding thought. I realize that often it can seem easier to act generously ourselves, than it is to be the object of someone else’s generosity. Yet this reluctance to accept the generosity of others can also inhibit it -- because, after all, nobody likes to make other people uncomfortable.

We need to remember, and to remind ourselves often, that this church is a gift that we give to one another, and which we together give to the larger Carlisle community. Our willingness to accept and honor the generosity of our “Neighbours & Fellow Cretures” is perhaps one of the greatest gifts of true gratitude that we can ever give: both to our neighbors, and ultimately to ourselves as well.

*****

READING: by Steve De Groot. Quoted by Rebecca Parker in “Spiritual Practice for Our Time,” in Everyday Spiritual Practice: Simple Pathways for Enriching Your Life, Scott W. Alexander, ed. (Boston: Skinner House, 1999), pp 194-94. Steve was a member of Rebecca’s first congregation, speaking on Stewardship Sunday.

I first began to tithe, because I was taught to obey the teachings of my church, and tithing was one of them. I tithed because I saw obedience as the heart of faithfulness. When I began to understand that obedience was not all that important and could be evil, I continued to tithe because a different reasons had come to me. The people I loved most and admired tithed: my parents and leaders in our church. Their lives challenged me by their goodness. I wanted to be like them so I tithed to model my life on theirs.

But then I matured in my faith: I came to my own reason for tithing. This is why I do it now: I tithe because it tells the truth about who I am. If I did not tithe, it would say that I was a person who had nothing to give, or I was a person who received nothing from life, or I was a person who did not matter to the larger society, or I was a person whose life’s meaning was solely in providing for my own needs. But in fact who I am is the opposite of all those things. I am a person who has something to give. I am a person who has received abundantly from life. I am a person whose presence matters in the world. I am a person whose life has meaning because I am connected to and care about many things larger than myself alone. If I did not tithe, I would lose track of these truths about who I am. By tithing, I remember who I am.