Giving God Your Best

Big Idea: We should give God our best in service and worship; anything less dishonors him.

The date was April 21, 1996. I can't remember exactly what my week had been like, but it was Sunday, and it was time for me to preach. I stood before my small congregation, opened the Bible, and began to preach as I had many times before.

I'm sure nobody else remembers this day. That Sunday was like any other, with no angelic visitations or audible voices from God. However, I was convicted of a serious sin in my life and ministry that I realized needed to end immediately.

What was this terrible sin? Was I secretly stashing money from the offering plate? Was I carrying out an inappropriate relationship with a member of the congregation? Was I secretly engaged in activities which would have caused scandal within if only known? No, none of those things.

In fact, my sin was a very public one. Nobody would have been shocked, even though I think everyone there knew I was committing this sin. I believe it was just as wrong as stealing money from the offering or doing something illegal. And God convicted me that morning in a way that remains strong to this day.

Let me tell you what my sin is, but I'll warn you that it might seem like nothing at first. The sin I committed was delivering a bad sermon. I delivered a message that had little redemptive value. It brought very little glory to God and very little benefit to the listeners.

I've given many poor sermons before and since, but April 21, 1996 stands out for a different reason. I preached a bad sermon for no other reason than I was content giving God my second-best efforts. I can't tell you what I did that week, but I can tell you what I didn't do: prepare. I had no legitimate reasons, like church emergencies, that kept me from preparing properly. I was merely lazy. And instead of giving God my best, I was content to give God my leftover efforts. And it showed.

You see, that morning I got up and preached. I stood up, and instead of my usual six pages of notes, I had only one and a half. And right away I knew I was in deep trouble. I knew it; the congregation knew it. I managed to muddle through. I honestly believe that some in the congregation thought nothing of it. On the way home, my wife turned to me and said, "Tough crowd today." And in my heart, I knew that the problem was not with the crowd, but with me.

God and I met that week. And I vowed never again to stand in the pulpit unprepared. To never again insult God by giving him less than the best of my efforts. Since that day, I've likely delivered many subpar sermons, but I promised never to stand before God's people again without giving my best effort. I will never again offer God my second or third best efforts.

Now, I imagine some of you are rolling your eyes. But think with me for a moment. How many of us have experienced churches where sermons are prepared shoddily. Where the worship is planned at the last minute, with little thought and little preparation. Where Sunday School lessons are thrown together an hour before the Sunday School class begins. Where people are appointed to committees and somehow never manage to show up. Many of us have become accustomed to a culture that accepts mediocrity, offering God less than our best and considering laziness as our spiritual service to him, despite the sacrifice he made for us.

And I began to think of another story that took place a long time ago. The story is found in the Old Testament book of Malachi, the last book of the Old Testament. The date was perhaps somewhere around 430 BC. The setting is Jerusalem. Years ago, after returning from Babylonian exile, the people found Jerusalem in ruins. They started rebuilding the temple and city walls for worship. Over time, as generations forgot about the exile, a disconnect between the people and God grew. The people began to neglect the worship of God and stopped living according to God's will. Even the priests were guilty.

Let me tell you what their sin was, and then give you three contributing factors to their sin. Their transgression was offering flawed sacrifices to God.

"A son honors his father, and a servant his master. If then I am a father, where is my honor? And if I am a master, where is my fear? says the Lord of hosts to you, O priests, who despise my name. But you say, ‘How have we despised your name?’ By offering polluted food upon my altar. But you say, ‘How have we polluted you?’ By saying that the Lord’s table may be despised. When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not evil? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not evil? Present that to your governor; will he accept you or show you favor? says the Lord of hosts." (Malachi 1:6-8)

God accused the priests of dishonoring Him by showing contempt for His name through careless and disobedient worship. God's law required that only perfect animals be offered to God. Deuteronomy 15:21 says, "If an animal has a defect, is lame or blind, or has any serious flaw, you must not sacrifice it to the LORD your God." Leviticus 1:3 says, "'If the offering is a burnt offering from the herd, he is to offer a male without defect."

You may ask why the sacrifice had to be a perfect one. Two reasons: The first reason is that only a perfect substitute could stand in place of an imperfect offerer. What can we offer to God that would pay for our sins? Surely not something imperfect, only that which is perfect. And we recognize this as a picture of Jesus Christ, called in 1 Peter 1:19 "a lamb without blemish or defect," offered for our sins. That's one reason why the sacrifice had to be a perfect one.

But the second reason, and the one I want to dwell on this morning, is this: only the best should be offered to the Lord. "How dare you," Malachi says, "offer a gift to the Lord which is less than the best." Only the best should be offered to the Lord. No animals with blemishes or defects; no blind or lame animals; only the best and the first.

And yet Malachi 1:8 says that the people were bringing blind, crippled, and diseased animals for sacrifice. And Malachi makes the point in verse 8, "Try offering them to your governor! Would he be pleased with you? Would he accept you?" The people were offering to God something they wouldn't offer even to an important human being. They were giving God something that would have caused them serious problems if given to someone else.

God says in verse 10: "Oh, that one of you would shut the temple doors, so that you would not light useless fires on my altar! I am not pleased with you," says the LORD Almighty, "and I will accept no offering from your hands." He said, "If you're going to offer me the defective from your flock, don't even bother. Don't go to all that effort just to insult me."

And in verse 14 he says:

Cursed be the cheat who has a male in his flock, and vows it, and yet sacrifices to the Lord what is blemished. For I am a great King, says the Lord of hosts, and my name will be feared among the nations.

Six times in this passage, God refers to his name as being dishonored by the people on account of this. When God's people bring less than their best to God, it brings dishonor to his name. It's an insult to the very nature of God.

Four Lessons

As I look at this passage, some important principles stand out to me. And these principles, to this day, resonate within my soul and affect my ministry. I've applied this lesson to my life, with still a long way to go. But I wonder if you would look with me at four lessons I've learned from Malachi 1.

There is always a reason to offer God less than our best.

There is always a compelling reason not to give God our best. As I look at Malachi 1, it strikes me that the people might have had a number of reasons for what they did.

Issue one might have been expedience – trying to be as cheap as possible.

It was just a lot cheaper and easier to offer God a defective animal rather than a perfect one. Things haven't changed – people then worked hard for their money. When they would come to pick or buy their offering, why should they offer what is costly? Why not simply try to get by, offering God the leftovers. Just like today, some of us ask, "Why can't we give God our leftover time, money, and energy? Why bring something valuable to God when we can give him something that costs us nothing?"

Issue number two might have been neglect. Not really caring how they offered the sacrifice.

Listen to what the priests said, according to Malachi 1:13:

But you say, ‘What a weariness this is,’ and you snort at it, says the Lord of hosts. You bring what has been taken by violence or is lame or sick, and this you bring as your offering! Shall I accept that from your hand? says the Lord.

Worship had become a burden to the priests. They began to neglect their duties, the act of giving God the best. Their priorities had drifted, and other things – convenience, comfort, even contempt for God – had taken their place. When I stood on April 21, 1996, I was guilty of neglect. I had let my priorities drift to the point where I was neglecting my rightful duty to God.

Issue number three might have been that everyone else was doing it.

Why should I offer a perfect sacrifice? Did you see that defective animal that the Jones brought in? Or today in the church – why should we offer God our best when the others are offering their leftovers. But the first lesson I have learned is that there is always a reason to give God less than our best. We can always offer up excuses. But these reasons, these excuses, just don't cut it.

Lesson number two that I've learned:

Our service reveals our attitude to God.

The big issue in this passage, I believe, is that their choice to give God less than their best revealed the priority they had given God. Their methods of giving revealed their real attitudes toward God. In short, the priests and the people treated God with less honor and respect than they gave parents or foreign rulers. They cared less about God than they cared about themselves and the people around them. When I stood and preached without preparing, I told God what place he had in my life that week. I told him by my actions that he wasn't a priority in my life. I revealed an attitude of indifference and carelessness in my relationship with God. Because our service, or lack of it, always reveals our attitude to God.

Lesson number three that I've learned:

Service is meant to be costly.

It was meant to cost us something. When God told the people to offer the first and the best from the flocks, it was for a reason: so it would cost them something. And it's supposed to cost us something today. Shame on us for passing off time and effort to God that costs us nothing and thinking that it's enough. Shame on us for refusing to serve because it might cost us something. Shame on us for giving God only that which costs us nothing. King David said in 1 Chronicles 21:24, "I cannot take what is yours and give it to the LORD. I will not offer a burnt offering that has cost me nothing."

Lesson number four that I've learned:

We can give God nothing less than our best.

Stop offering God contemptuous sacrifices! Stop winging it! Stop giving God your last minute, half-hearted, leftover and warmed-up efforts. Don't slap something together and pretend it's okay. Stop giving God what wouldn't pass off to your spouse, your boss, or anyone else. Stop passing off to God what you wouldn't pass off to anyone else.

When discussing lay ministers and believers using their spiritual gifts to serve God and others, I must say: don't waste your time if you're going to offer God inferior sacrifices. If you only plan to give God your leftover time, money, and energy, you will be like those in Malachi who offered nothing of value to him.

And so in the week following April 21, 1996, I had some business to do with God. I made a vow never to come to the pulpit again and offer God a defective sacrifice. I would never compromise the quality of what I offer to God for convenience or neglect. I would no longer dishonor God by bringing injured, crippled, and diseased service as my offering to God.

I don't know where you're at. I don't know if you're rolling your eyes thinking that I'm taking this a little too seriously. But I'm done with feeding into the culture of a church that it's okay to be sloppy and shoddy when it comes to serving God. I'm tired of giving to God what we wouldn't normally offer, simply because it's church or we're volunteers. What we do for God matters most because it's done for God, who's worth so much more than anyone else.

So are you with me? I'm not going to ask you to walk the aisle today, and I'm not going to even ask you to stand or to raise your hand. I'm going to ask you to do what I did. I'm going to ask you to go stand before God and say, "No more. Never again do I offer less than my best to you."

I wonder if you would bow your heads with me.

Malachi 1:14 states:

Cursed be the cheat who has a male in his flock, and vows it, and yet sacrifices to the Lord what is blemished. For I am a great King, says the Lord of hosts, and my name will be feared among the nations.

Lord, whatever it is that we do to serve you, may it never be less than our best. May we honor you in our service, not giving you leftover energies, but giving you first place in our lives. May October 25, 1998 be to somebody here what April 21, 1996 was for me: the day that we say "Enough! From now on we only give our best to our God." Amen.