Malachi Securities
Sermons and Snow Blowers
Malachi 1:6-14; 3:6-14

Twice I’ve visited the biggest church in town, and twice I’ve heard the rotund preacher give the following disclaimer, “I don’t like preaching on money. I preach one sermon on tithing a year, and this is the Sunday this year.”  He’s a good man; I’ll take his word for it. My dad rarely preached about it, either.

Dad rarely talked to me about money—probably because I had budgets with pie charts as early as ninth grade. Anyway, I never got to hear the whole it’s-the-principle-of-the-thing speech.

Until I read Malachi. I’ve sat under five thousand sermons in my life, and Malachi has come up a time or two. Usually, the speaker takes us to chapter three for the shovel principle: shovel to God, and he’ll shovel back with a bigger shovel.

I never liked that analogy, having never shoveled anything I‘d want shoveled back at me. And if money doesn’t grow on trees, I doubt it grows in the driveway. Besides, that line of thinking leads to get-rich-quick minds looking at the investment value of a snow blower.

The book of Malachi is about the principal of the thing—something bigger than the giving thing. Malachi asks us how we look at God. Not during crises-caused prayer; not in the middle of praise choruses in church. Monday through Saturday, especially paycheck Friday: the day you prioritize your life by how much money goes to what.

Is God first? He’s so rich, he’ll never need anyone’s anything. He’s so intangible, he’ll never need to be touched. He’s so big, he’ll never need anyone to see him. So what do you get the God who has everything?  First place, best place. Only place.

But you can start with a percent of your income. Maybe a decent percent of your time, attention, or thoughts. If that sounds like a lot to you, try giving up one hundred percent of heaven to save less than one percent of an ungrateful world or trading your infinite body for exponential pain during nine hours and an embarrassing death.

We owe God. Big time. The interest alone has eternal consequence.

Financially, God asks us to give only a little back.  He hopes it comes naturally—part of the excitement of living within his will. Hey, how much did you spend on your last trip to the local stadium?  I’m talking about the hot dogs; never mind the tickets and t-shirts!  God wants cheerful givers; otherwise, he’d take direct deposit from your paycheck. He wants worship so powerful in our lives that he’d need guardian angels as bouncers in the church foyer. He wants us to have him. He wants us to be offerings, not just give them.

Giving is the first step, the start of a grand relinquishing of our will. It’s a great litmus test for the state of our heart, and a great encouragement to those in need.

Trust me. Hey, I don’t need your money: you already bought my book. And my shovel’s only as big as yours.

Word has it . . .
Let each one do just as he has purposed in his heart; not grudgingly or under compulsion; for God loves a cheerful giver. 2 Corinthians 9:7.

Would you give if God didn’t promise blessing?

Do you recognize the intangible gifts God gives us?

How big is your shovel?

What do you do with your free time?

© 2003: nonymous, ink.
a ryan george company

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture texts are from the New American Standard Bible, © The Lockman Foundation 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977.