Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name; bring an offering, and come into his courts. (Psalm 96:8)

There was once a very wealthy man who was also a very active Christian, a philanthropist and all-round good egg. One night, as he was coming toward the end of his life, an angel came to him and said, “Look, this isn’t the way things are normally done, but as you’ve been such a good man, we’ve decided to give you warning about your death so that you can prepare yourself for Heaven”. The wealthy old man replied, “Well, I’m touched. Thank you. One other thing - I know it’s a lot to ask, and I know they say “You can’t take it with you” - I have acquired a lot of possessions. Do you think I might be able to bring something to Heaven with me?” The angel was surprised and said, “Well, that’s not normally allowed, but I’ll have a word with God. Leave it with me”.

The angel appeared again and said, “OK. You’re on. You can take one suitcase of your stuff with you”. The next day the wealthy man went and cashed in a huge chunk of his savings and bought a suitcase full of gold bars which he shoved under his bed ahead of his death.

Sure enough, when he appeared at the pearly gates he had the suitcase in his hand. St. Peter was astonished to see it, but the paperwork checked out. Once inside the host of Heaven gathered fascinated and curious to see what he had brought with him. The man opened his case to reveal the gold bricks and the host of Heaven looked at him, and at each other, puzzled and confused. At last one said to him, “You brought pavement?”

I sometimes wonder if we haven’t become a bit obsessed by money and financial wealth. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that money or wealth in themselves are immoral or wrong or any of that; but if they begin to become all that matters to us it does immense harm not just to us, but to those around us. One of the things I found unfortunate about the referendum campaign was the way it came back again and again to money. “You’ll be £5000 a year better off with independence”. “You’re £7000 a year better off in the Union”. And you get it during general elections as well - promises of tax cuts even, it appears, when the country is up to its armpits in debt. Is that it? Is that all that really matters to us? 

If the only wealth is money, and all that matters is wealth, then we are not a million miles away from those who opposed the abolition of slavery on the grounds that wealth created through slave labour built some of our great cities. We are not a million miles who sought to treat trades unions as seditious and imprison or transport their members to the colonies because they might affect  profits.

But there is more to wealth than money; and there are things that matter more than money. “Bring an offering and come into his courts”. Not, “bring your dosh”. Let me make this clear, though, I’m not dissuading you from putting your hand in your pocket when we come to the offering.

When Jesus was asked about paying the temple tax he asked to see a coin. The person asking the question produced one. It was a Roman coin with the Emperor’s head on it. The guy was averse to paying tax to the Romans - occupying country, after all - but he had no qualms about using Roman coinage to buy bread, food, whatever he was going to spend the money on. He wouldn’t have thought twice about that. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with money. What matters is what we do with it and our attitude to it - which is what lies behind Jesus’s reply to the question he was asked: “Give Caesar what is Caesar’s. Give God what is God’s”. 

Money is what we use to buy food and shelter. It’s what we use to buy clothes and warmth for our homes. It’s what we use, through our taxes, to pay for our schools and our hospitals. It’s what we use, through our taxes, to pay for people to have lawyers when they are taken to court or for people to have care in old age. None of these are bad things. I don’t think the Church is a bad thing. When we bring our offerings of money they are used, I trust, to achieve those very ends. The Church of Scotland remains the biggest non-government provider of social care in Scotland. The Church of Scotland continues, through its ministers and chaplains, to offer care for people who are sick or in need. I’m inclined to think God would approve. So I’m delighted to echo the psalmist; “bring an offering and come into his courts”.

One of the things, though, I remember from communion classes was that I was supposed to offer a proportion of my wealth for the work of the Church. Wealth, notice; not just “money”. There is more to wealth than money. You are far wealthier than what’s in your bank account. You are far richer than what’s in your wallet. God has given you gifts that go far beyond your means to earn your daily bread. “Give to God that which is God’s”. That goes far beyond pounds and pence. The offering God wants from you is you.

See, God is at work in the world. Yes, he’s at work through the financial offerings which we place on the table each Sunday and which are used for all the good stuff I mentioned a moment ago. But he’s also at work in the world through those who enter his courts; in those who serve him. That’s you and me.

This is, perhaps, the most pernicious thing about an obsession with financial wealth. If you don’t have it - and most of us don’t - you can get to feel that you make no difference in the world. It’s no accident that the words “wealth” and “power” go, so often together. But the real power in this world is God and it works through those God calls to enter his courts; it works through ordinary folk like you and me. It works through people who offering themselves in God’s service - to do what is right in this world, rather than what is financially beneficial; to speak up for those who get left behind in the rat race and to support those who get chewed up in a dog-eat-dog world; to care for those around us - even if we don’t necessarily like them or regard them as friends.

See, there’s something you can do that the wealthiest person in the world cannot do. You can look after the person who lives next door to you. You can love, literally, your neighbour. You can talk to your friends about the importance of caring for the weak and the vulnerable. You can treat that person who has moved into the town whose skin is different colour, or who hasn’t quite mastered English yet, as a brother or sister because we all share one father. You thinks that makes no difference in the world?

In the first 300 years of the Church’s existence the Gospel was spread by the poorest members of society, mostly. It was spread by people who could offer little to the Church in terms of pennies on the plate, but who could show those around us another way of life - a way of life informed by care and compassion for the weak; with a recognition that all humanity are brothers and sisters and children of one father; with a belief that everyone messes up and needs forgiveness. You can do that. I can do that. Everyone can do that. Imagine what the world would be like if we all offered ourselves to that end.

Lord, you have given us such gifts - language, intelligence, the power to care to care for one another. We offer ourselves, and the gifts you have given us in your service.

Preached at Moffat: St Andrews parish church and at Kirkpatrick-Juxta parish church