Building on Faith:
The Vision and The Gift
1 Chronicles 29
King David of Israel casts a long shadow as a pivotal person of human history. A man of passion, bright victory and bitter failure, he reminds us across 3,000 years of the influence of leadership and sacrifice in a cause of worth. At a crucial moment in the history of God’s people, David came forward to make a sacrificial gift that led many others to do the same. He too was one who stumbled, fell, rose up, dreamed, built, and triumphed.
There are always those timid souls who wait for just the right moment before taking the step of sacrifice. The temperature of circumstance must be at just the right degree, the humidity of the moment at the perfect percentage, and the barometric pressure of the challenge at precisely the appropriate millibar. If all is well, such bland leaders of the bland will move forward.
Then there are those heroic souls who recognize the significance of the moment, the window of opportunity, and then the undeniable, unrepeatable challenge before them. They do not wait for perfection; in sacrifice they prefer action.
Before our congregation in these days just such a moment shimmers in the transient morning of our opportunity. We all know the challenge that is before us. A door of unrepeatable opportunity for this church opens before us. In the next two weeks we will each be called upon to make sacrifices. The call of the moment does not beckon us to equal gifts but to equal sacrifice.
Years ago Michelangelo found inside a marble block the famous statue of David. Let’s look into this text and see if we can discover the lessons David would teach us as we prepare to seize this opportunity.
First, we must envision building for God’s work. When King David had conquered his enemies, secured his borders, and brought prosperity to his people, his eager mind turned to building the house of God. The very Hebrew word dawid suggests someone who seethes or boils with passion. There was nothing half-hearted about David. Everything he did, he did with passion, and he was passionate about God. By the providence of God, David could not build the temple as a man of war. That mantle fell on his son Solomon. Yet David had the vision to make a provision for the temple of God.
Behind every vision lies a motive, though, and David’s motive was pure: “…for the Temple he will build is not just another building—it is for the Lord God himself” (1 Chronicles 29:1). When the call is made for sacrifice, the motive for the driving vision should be pure. Had the temple been a monument to David or merely an architectural reflection of Hebrew culture, the motive would have been unworthy. Egypt had its pyramids, Babylon its Hanging Garden and Athens its Parthenon. Had the goal of David been merely another monument, the cost would have been too extravagant. The motive was pure. What was sacrificed was to be given “for the Lord God himself.” The mighty, sacrificial offering of David belonged to God alone.
How do we weigh the motive of sacrifice for the challenge before our church? It is not to honor an individual or group of individuals. Nor does the challenge before us call for a sacrifice to make a statement about our church culturally, socially, or economically. There is only one appropriate motive for the sacrificial giving required of us in this hour: the worship of God. We give that the name of God be honored, the word of God be taught, and by God’s grace, the church of God be built. As we approach the days of sacrifice before us, let that pure vision sustain each of us.
It is one thing to have a vision. But if vision is to ever become reality there must be provision for the vision. Along with a vision is the task of paying for the vision. A vision without provision is nothing more than day dreaming, and plentiful provision without vision is wasteful. But a vision with provision means victory. Because David wanted the vision to be reality, he made regular, planned gifts to the vision.
“Using every resource at my command, I have gathered as much as I could for building the Temple of my God. Now there is enough gold, silver, bronze, iron, and wood, as well as great quantities of onyx, other precious stones, costly jewels, and all kinds of fine stone and marble (v. 2).”
Many members of our congregation give faithful, weekly gifts to support the work of Christ in this church.
But David went a step further. At a time of unprecedented, unparalleled need he went “above and beyond” that which he had given before:
“And now because of my devotion to the Temple of my God, I am giving all of my own private treasures of gold and silver to help in the construction…” (v. 3a).
At the time, which called for unusual sacrifice, David gave an extraordinary gift.
David’s gift was extraordinary in that it was personal. The Hebrew word for David’s gift is segullah. Ancient eastern monarchs kept near themselves a treasure box holding precious metals, stones, and rare objects. This treasure box functioned as a kind of personal security against times of political hardship or disaster. If they were forced to flee an invasion, the segullah, or treasure box was taken first of all. When David gave his segullah to the work of God, he was forfeiting his personal security. He was willing to risk his material well-being in the future for the work of God in the present.
Not only was David’s gift personal, it was additional. David gave that which was “over and above” all he regularly gave:
“…this is in addition to the building materials I have already collected for his holy Temple” (v. 3).
In the face of a once-in-a-lifetime challenge, a great giver became an even greater giver. In the face of such an example, we ourselves today must weigh our giving. Many members of our congregation already give regularly. Yet we face in these days an opportunity to give above and beyond all of our regular gifts.
I am reminded of our founder John Wesley. Living to the age of 87, Wesley saw enormous amounts of money pass through his hands. Yet he purposefully adopted a lifestyle of sacrifice. As Wesley’s income increased, he maintained his expenses at the same level. Although he became a national figure in England, he kept the same modest lifestyle. Across his life, he moved from giving 10 percent to the work of God and living on 90 percent to giving 90 percent and living on 10 percent.
Wesley’s principle ought to inform our own living. Most of us become relatively more affluent with the gathering of the years. Wesley demonstrated that we can keep our lifestyles basically on the same plane while giving a greater percentage of our wealth to the work of God. Surely during the relatively short time of giving to this campaign we could do so as well.
Another thing I learn from this passage is that every vision must have a leader. By definition a leader is a leader because people respond. The people responded because David was willing to lead by example. David gave a leadership gift to the work of God that sounds astounding in its quantities: 190 tons of gold and 375 tons of silver. By present standards of measurement this could be as much as $17,280,000,000 (seventeen billion, two hundred eighty million dollars) in precious metals. The gift of the leader stirred the hearts of the followers. At the conclusion of his sacrificial giving, David gave the challenge: “Now then, who will follow my example?” (v. 5).
The response of the people was one of joy and generosity when they saw their leader give to the work. The officers, commanders, heads of families, and every level of official responded to the example of the king’s “above and beyond” giving. There was a joint experience of leaders and followers in sacrificial giving:
“The people rejoiced over the offerings, for they had given freely and wholeheartedly to the Lord, and King David was filled with joy” (v.9).
There was a solidarity in giving that resonated throughout the congregation of God’s people. Few are the churches that can depend upon the giving of only a few affluent members. When the church faces a unique challenge such as we face, the call is for every member of every standing and lifestyle of the congregation to come forward.
Outside San Francisco in Marin County stands an unusual forest, the Muir Woods. The Muir Woods is a National Park grove of coastal redwood trees. Unlike the giant sequoia redwoods, the coastal redwoods do not have such deep roots. For these thousand-year-old trees to stand, their roots must intertwine. One of the massive trees stands because the other next to it winds its roots around the other. Thus gigantic trees of this massive forest literally hold one another up. As one walks through the enchanted quality of that unusual grove of trees, one is reminded of the interdependence of everything in the natural world.
The same is true of everything in the spiritual world, even the life of the church. Each person plays an important role in what God is doing here. Every one holds part of the key to victory. But understand, proportion makes all the difference. Aaron Copeland may be the most famous American orchestral composer. In one of his symphonies, the percussionist must sit by the musical triangle for most of the evening. At precisely the right moment, however, he plays the musical triangle so that the high-pitched “ping” resounds throughout the orchestra hall.
Without question, the other instruments dominate the evening and could easily drown out the tinkling triangle. But in the moment that it is needed, the triangle plays as large and necessary a role as the rest of the orchestra combined. It is a matter of proportion.
God has so ordered our giving to God’s work that it partakes of the same quality. At the moment our gift is necessary, its proportion is the same as all other gifts in the eyes of God. Just as the musical triangle is not equal in sound but equal in significance, so also our giving is not equal in amount but is of equally significant proportion.
A final lesson I want us to learn: When vision meets response, it results in praise. Can there be praise in the congregation like the praise that comes after times of sacrificial giving? In the aftermath of David’s call to sacrifice, everyone in the assembly had given. The followers had given as well as the leaders. The result was an overwhelming ex-pression of gratitude to God on the part of the entire assembly of God’s people. They praised God for His eternity, sovereignty, ownership, and leadership (vv. 10–11). Remember that this joyous outburst of praise to God followed the congregational giving with sacrificial intent. Listen to their prayer:
“Blessed are You, Lord God of Israel, our Father, forever and ever. Yours, O Lord, is the greatness, the power and the glory, the victory and the majesty; for all that is in heaven and in earth is Yours; Yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and You are exalted as head over all.” (1 Chronicles 29:10–11)
After a congregational act of sacrifice the attention did not rest upon the congregation, but rather on an overwhelming consciousness of God.
Praise is not cheap. It resounds more loudly and echoes with more authenticity and carries further when it rings with the reality of sacrificial giving. When religious bumper stickers became prevalent in the seventies, one of the most frequent stated, “Honk if you love Jesus.” Some thought that such honking praise might be done too cheaply so they printed another version: “Tithe if you love Jesus; any goose can honk.” Their version was closer to the reality of Scripture. Praise grows out of a life that sacrifices.
David Livingstone was a famous 19th century English missionary who pushed his way to the heart of Africa. There he gave his all in the service of the Gospel. When the explorer Stanley found him and begged him to return to England, Livingstone made it clear that his heart belonged in Africa. When the famous missionary died in his simple hut, all of his possessions were on his own person. A top hat, his coat, and his clothes were the limit of the great man’s earthly property. He shook a continent with his impact but gave all he had in the doing of it.
What if we were to say for this period of challenge that is before us that we will take the high road of personal sacrifice; we will give to the extent that it will actually change our lifestyles. In a nation where one family built an $8,000 doghouse with a kidney-shaped swimming pool for their dog, it would make a statement. In a nation that throws away more material goods than most Third World nations consume, it would set a benchmark.
Such sacrificial giving demonstrates our true position in life. Sacrificial giving places us in an appropriate position in relationship to God. David asked a question for the ages:
“But who am I, and who are my people, that we could give anything to you? Everything we have has come from you, and we give you only what you have already given us!” (v. 14).
We are in the position of the child who uses his father’s money to buy a birthday present for his father. We are a dependent and derivative people. As verse 15 states in the Hebrew, we are “visitors and strangers.” David’s wealth drove him to his knees in humility rather than to kingly pride in his eminence.
I know some of you may be saying, “Who are they to ask me for money?” In the spirit of David we should rather ask, “Who am I that I should be giving to God?” This change in perspective comes from viewing giving as an act of praise and worship. It was because of the joy of immediate sacrificial giving that “they feasted and drank in the Lord’s presence with great joy that day” (v. 22).
We face this challenge because our church is alive. In the midst of such a challenge as we face, one church member complained to a friend that the church was always asking for money. With a complaint and a whine the member criticized the program of the church.
The gentle friend told a story. Once the friend had a son. During the months of expectancy, money was spent to prepare a nursery in the home. Money was spent on prenatal visits and on the delivery. The doctor sent a bill and so did the hospital. As the boy started to school, still more money was required. When the boy became a teenager, the money needs increased dramatically with a car, insurance, and dating. Then it came time to send the boy to college. That required the most money of all.
The friend then said, “Then he died in an accident. Now he does not cost us anything. He cost us money because he was alive. So is your church.”
In a generation when some churches are deciding how to close down buildings because of disuse, we face the need for more space. We need money because we are alive. We have a vision and we need provision. Let us rise up to give with sacrifice that yields praise to God.
