A High-Stakes Experiment in Trust
Acts 4:32-35
November 8, 2015
Rev. Dr. Deborah L. Clark
It was a beautiful August afternoon in downtown Philadelphia. We had just arrived at our hotel, and I had time for a walk before our nephew Tom’s wedding. I put on my sneakers, grabbed a few crumpled one dollar bills, and set off. Before long I found myself at the Delaware River. There was a waterfront park, complete with an outdoor roller skating rink, food trucks, kayak rentals, life-size chess games and even free hammocks.
I happened upon a collection of four refrigerated kiosks. Each of them was filled with bottles of tea—organic, fair-trade honey green tea, peach tea, and tea mixed with lemonade, all with the logo “Honest Tea.” In the middle was a clear plastic bin filled with money. No one was monitoring either the drinks or the cash.
“Honor System,” a sign read. “Take a bottle of tea; leave a dollar.” So I did. On my way back to the hotel, I took another tea and put another dollar in the bin. The tea hit the spot, and Fran was grateful for the one I brought back.
I had heard about the Honest Tea social experiment before. Over the last few years, the Honest Tea Company has set up displays in cities and towns all over the country. What would happen, they wanted to know, if they left their teas out in the open and trusted people to pay for them?
When I got back to the hotel, I looked up their website and read the results. Over the last year, across the nation, 95% of the people who took tea put money into the bin. The vast majority of people, when asked to be honest and honorable, chose to do so. The statistics tell one part of the story; my reaction tells another aspect of it. That tea was delicious. It tasted great because it gave me an opportunity to claim my own goodness. It tasted great because I felt part of a greater goodness—hundreds of people, from all walks of life, chose to put their money into the bin when they took a tea.
The experiment was about honesty. Even more, perhaps, it was about trust. The Honest Tea company chose to trust the people of Philadelphia. Those of us who put our dollars in the bin before we took our tea chose to trust each other–to trust that we would not be alone in our honesty.
We live in a world shaped by distrust. Stores install security cameras; parents install nanny cameras; police wear body cameras. All over the news we hear about public figures with private lies, scam artists preying on vulnerable people, and cyber-security threats. The message is clear: don’t trust anyone. Amidst all this distrust, the Honest Tea kiosk proclaims a counter-message, or perhaps ask a couple of counter-questions. What if we can trust each other? What would our lives and our world be like?
The Honest Tea experiment, for all its feel-good value, was a low-stakes experiment. The company risked the loss of a few bottles of tea; the return on that minimal risk was a lot of free publicity. For those of us who participated, the risk was even smaller–a dollar–and the reward, a bottle of tea, would have cost twice as much in a convenience store. Some might say the risk was missing out on an opportunity to get something for nothing. The element of peer pressure, though, actually made it riskier not to put in a dollar; there were plenty of people around to call me out if I chose to take the tea without paying. The Honest Tea experiment was an easy, low-stakes opportunity to trust and be trust-worthy.
The early church, as described in the Acts of the Apostles, went to the opposite extreme—a super-high-stakes experiment in trust. It was not just about throwing a dollar in a bin–or a denarius in a basket. These early followers of the risen Christ were asked to give everything they had. The promised return was not as immediately gratifying as a bottle of tea on a summer day. Instead they were promised, as the gospel of John says, that streams of living waters would flow from their very hearts. Instead, they were asked to trust that the Holy Spirit would inspire everyone to be just as generous. They were asked to trust that if they gave everything they had, by the grace of God, they would have everything they needed. We don’t know how many early church communities really engaged in this high-stakes experiment or how long it lasted; we do know that some tried.
The church has changed a lot in the last 2000 years. Except for a few groups we are inclined to dismiss as cults, churches don’t ask our members to give away all our possessions and to share everything in common.
My encounter in August with the Honest Tea kiosks, though, helped me claim what an amazing thing we do every fall at Stewardship time. We leap head-first into our own high-stakes experiment in faith in God and trust in each other. Every fall we ask each other to make a pledge to support the life of this church. We don’t ask for the crumpled dollar bill we happen to have in our pockets; we ask each other to be prayerful and thoughtful and intentional in our giving. We ask each other to give significant gifts–maybe even 10% or more of our income.
Unlike at the Honest Tea kiosk, no bystanders are watching to embarrass us if we don’t give. Instead, we trust each other to give as we are able. We don’t ask everyone to give the same amount; instead, we honor the wide range of financial circumstances and ask each person to look honestly at our own abilities and to seek God’s guidance to do the best we can.
No one is rationing the product, making sure each person only takes a certain amount. Just as we trust each person to give as we are able, we trust each person to receive as we have need. We assume that each of us, at certain times in our lives, has a lot to give and at other times needs a lot of support. We act on our faith that an open cycle of giving and receiving will lead to abundance.
From the perspective of our world shaped by distrust, it’s a crazy way to run an organization. We do have some other sources of income—rentals and cell phone contracts—but the primary financial support for our church comes from this high-stakes experiment in trust. The heating bill, the mortgage, our liability insurance, the Church School curriculum, our staff salaries—they all can be paid only because of our voluntary generous giving.
From the perspective of a world shaped by distrust, it is crazy. From the perspective of faith in a God of abundant love, it is glorious. This high-stakes experiment in trust is a glorious expression of how the Holy Spirit can transform us. On our own, we all become trapped by fear of not having enough, and we hold on tight to what we have. But we are not on our own. God is with us. God promises us abundant life. God challenges us to share with generosity. God gives us courage. Because God is with us, we can risk trusting in God’s promise; we can risk trusting each other.
On that hot summer afternoon in Philadelphia, I put a dollar in the Honest Tea bin. What I received in return was nice—a bottle of tea that quenched my thirst for the moment. On these crisp fall days in Framingham, I will make a prayerful, intentional decision to give a lot more than a dollar. What I will receive is far more than the momentary satisfaction of a bottle of tea. I get to be part of something greater than myself. In an overwhelming world, I have ways to make a positive difference. I can build relationships with people from all walks of life and every generation. I am inspired by music, renewed by worship, held in prayer, healed by love.
It is crazy—this high-stakes experiment in trust. It is wondrous, for it enables a community of grace, joy, and transformation. It is faithful, for it is what our God of abundant love calls us to do. It is our spirit-inspired response to the counter-cultural questions the Honest Tea kiosk asks: What if we can trust each other? What would our lives and our world be like?
Through the grace of God, we can trust each other. When we do, our lives and our world overflow with joyous abundance. Amen.