Giving Thanks for All We Have Received
“For all things come from you, and of your own have we given you.” (1 Chronicles 29:14)
These words of King David, spoken as Israel prepared to build the temple, are words that could just be on our lips today. They are words of thanksgiving but also of recognition. Everything we have, everything we are, everything we offer—our money, our time, our talents—first comes from God.
Dedication Sunday is not a time for boasting about what we have done; it is a time to give thanks for what God has done through us.
David and the people of Israel were preparing for a great and beautiful project—the building of the temple in Jerusalem. The passage from 1 Chronicles shows a community gathering its offerings: gold, silver, bronze, iron, precious stones, and willing hearts. The temple was not simply an architectural masterpiece; it was the visible sign of God’s dwelling among his people, the heart of the nation’s worship.
For the people returning from exile, the author of the Chronicles retold Israel’s history as a story of hope and rebuilding. It reminded them that, after dislocation and loss, God was still faithful. The temple represented not only the presence of God, but the renewal of identity and community.
And for us, here in Hampstead, on this Dedication Sunday, we also gather our offerings—not gold or silver perhaps, but our resources, our creativity, our labour, and our prayers. We give, not because God needs our gifts, but because we need to give them out—to express our thanksgiving, to participate in God’s work, and to remember that we live by grace, not possession; by gratitude, not accumulation.
Chronicles and the Heart of the Community
The author of the Chronicles was writing for a people re-establishing their life in the land after exile. They were concerned with stability—with the land, the monarchy, the temple, and their genealogy. In that uncertain time, the author reminded them that their story and their worship still had a centre: the living God, whose presence dwelt among them.
The temple was more than a building. It was the heart of their common life, the visible focus of their worship, and a sign of God’s faithfulness.
So we might ask ourselves: Where is the heart of our community today? Is our church—the worship, the relationships, the service—still the heart of Hampstead?
Are we still, as the temple once was, a place where people can encounter the living God?
The building of that temple relied on the building up of the people. Every contribution—every act of generosity—was part of constructing the dwelling place of God. This is the same truth for us today.
The Temple Transformed: Jesus and the Passover
In the Gospel of John, the story of the temple takes a remarkable turn. John records three Passovers during Jesus’s ministry. At each one, something central to Israel’s faith is transformed.
At the first Passover, soon after his miracle at Cana, Jesus goes up to Jerusalem and finds the temple filled with merchants and money changers. These traders provided animals for sacrifice and exchanged currency for pilgrims—a necessary part of temple life. Yet Jesus drives them out, saying, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” (It is, I admit, not the most encouraging text for those who serve faithfully on our financial committee!)
When the authorities demand a sign, Jesus replies, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” And John adds his commentary, “He was speaking of the temple of his body.”
But this temple—the temple of Christ’s body—has not disappeared. It continues to be revealed whenever the Church gathers in his name.
Each time we come to the table, we stand before that mystery. In the bread and wine, the body and blood of Christ are offered and shared. And in that sharing, we ourselves become what we receive—the Body of Christ. This is the foundation and reality of our faith.
The Body of Christ is not only broken on the altar; it is assembled in the congregation in the power of the Holy Spirit, who worked in Christ Jesus.
When we gather, pray, and give, the same Spirit binds us together into that living temple.
So when we bring our offerings—our financial gifts, our time, our talents—we are participating in the same divine work. We are constructing—with our lives—the temple of Christ’s body in this place. The Church is the living temple where God’s presence dwells among his people.
The temple is here—not in Jerusalem, but wherever the Body of Christ gathers in faith and thanksgiving: in the bread and wine of our thanksgiving, and in the hearts that lift praise and service to God.
Thanksgiving and Overflow
And so, on this Dedication Sunday, we give thanks—not because we have achieved something remarkable, but because God has been generous to us. “Of your own have we given you,” David said. Every act of generosity begins in gratitude.
Our offerings are not payment for God’s blessings, but overflow from them—the thanksgiving that springs from the grace we have received.
Today, we give thanks for all who offer their money to sustain this church’s life and mission; for those who give their time in worship, care, maintenance, and outreach; and for those who share their talents in music, leadership, teaching, and service.
We do not give thanks as if to say, “Look what we have done.” Rather, we give thanks because, in every act of generosity, we recognise God’s own generosity mirrored in ours.
As we gather our offerings today—during the offertory hymn, as the collection is taken, and as we lift up the bread and wine, our symbols of our time and talents in thanksgiving—these gifts become part of our collective prayer: a visible sign of gratitude and hope.
As we prepare the Table for the Eucharist—literally meaning “thanksgiving”—we pray: “Lord, teach us how to repay you for your goodness toward us. We will lift up the cup of salvation and call upon your name.”
In that moment, as we lift up the bread and wine—our symbols of time and talent offered in thanksgiving—we build the temple and shape the Body of Christ, lifting all to God in praise.
The Temple We Build Together
For community-building, the author of the Chronicles demonstrated how the people of Israel united to construct the temple as the centrepiece of their shared life. It was not only a place of worship, but the heart of identity and belonging—the visible sign of God’s presence among them.
We might also ask ourselves: Where is the heart of this community in Hampstead? Is our church still holding that heart of the place? Does it still gather and sustain the life around it?
I may not fully appreciate Jesus’s radical approach to destroying the temple, but I share and proclaim his core message: that the building of this temple depends on the building of the Body. Every act of prayer, every moment of service, every offering of time, money, or skill becomes part of constructing this living temple—the Body of Christ at work in this community.
May our church be a place where gratitude overflows—where every gift becomes service, every act of service builds the Body, and every life reflects the generosity of God.
And as we lift up our offerings, our bread and wine, our time and talents, may we also lift up our hearts to be renewed in God’s work.
For we are the Body of Christ—the living temple of the Lord at the heart of Hampstead’s community.