Turn with me to 2 Samuel chapter twenty-four, verse twenty-four. King David has come to buy a threshing floor in order to build an altar and offer to God. The owner, Araunah, generously offers to give him the land, the oxen, and the wood for free. And here is David’s immortal reply:
“But the king said to Araunah, ‘No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the Lord my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing.’ So David bought the threshing floor and the oxen and paid fifty shekels of silver for them.” (2 Samuel 24:24, NIV)
Tell your neighbour, “My offering must cost me something.”
Church, I want us to understand something this morning that the modern church has nearly forgotten. There is a difference between giving and sacrifice. Many people give. Few people sacrifice. You can give and feel nothing; you can give out of your surplus, out of your leftovers, out of what you would never miss. But a sacrifice is different. A sacrifice, by its very nature, costs you. It touches you. It is felt. When David refused to offer to God something that cost him nothing, he was teaching the people of God for all generations that the value of an offering in the eyes of heaven is not measured by the amount given but by the sacrifice represented.
Consider the very word. In the Old Testament, when a man brought a sacrifice, he brought a living animal — the best of his flock — and he laid his hand on its head, and it died in his place. The whole point of sacrifice was that something costly was surrendered. It bled. It hurt to give it. That is what made it a sacrifice and not merely a transaction.
We live in a generation that wants a convenient Christianity — a faith that asks nothing, costs nothing, and disturbs nothing. But I have come to tell you that the God of the Bible has never been impressed with cheap religion. He is not looking for what is left over in your hand; He is looking for what is poured out from your heart. And until our giving crosses the line from convenience into sacrifice, it does not yet carry the weight that moves the heart of God.
So this morning I want to preach to you on Giving as a Sacrifice under four headings:
First, Sacrifice Means It Costs You Something — the true definition of a sacrifice. Second, God Weighs the Heart Behind the Gift — what He is really measuring. Third, The Greatest Sacrifice Is Our Pattern — Christ, who gave Himself. Fourth, The Promise to the One Who Sacrifices — the harvest of sacrificial giving.
Receive this word, because it has the power to transform not just your wallet, but your worship.
Let us settle the definition first, straight from David’s lips: “I will not sacrifice to the Lord my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing.”
Notice the conviction in the king. Araunah was willing to give it all for free. It would have been perfectly easy, perfectly acceptable in human terms, for David to take the free oxen and offer them. But David understood a divine principle: an offering that costs me nothing is worth nothing as a sacrifice. If it does not cost the giver, it does not count as a sacrifice. The free gift would have been Araunah’s sacrifice, not David’s.
This is the heart of the matter, beloved. So much of what we call “giving” to God costs us nothing. We give Him the time we had nothing better to do with. We give Him the money we would never miss. We drop in what is convenient, what is comfortable, what we can spare without a second thought — and then we wonder why our spiritual life feels powerless. It is because we have been bringing God offerings that cost us nothing.
Go back to the very first recorded offerings in human history, and you will see this principle written in the foundations of Scripture:
“In the course of time Cain brought some of the fruits of the soil as an offering to the Lord. And Abel also brought an offering—fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock. The Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering, but on Cain and his offering he did not look with favor.” (Genesis 4:3–5, NIV)
Read it carefully. Cain brought “some of the fruits” — just some, the ordinary, the casual, the leftover. But Abel brought “the firstborn… the fat portions” — the best, the first, the costliest. One brought a convenient offering; the other brought a sacrifice. And God looked with favour on the sacrifice. The difference between Cain and Abel was not the type of produce — it was the heart of cost. One gave what was easy; the other gave what was best.
And consider the costliest test of all — Abraham on Mount Moriah. God did not ask for his livestock; He asked for Isaac, the son of promise, the dearest thing Abraham had. “Take your son, your only son, whom you love… and sacrifice him” (Genesis 22:2). True sacrifice always touches the thing we hold most dear. And it was precisely because Abraham did not withhold his costliest treasure that God said, “Now I know that you fear God” (Genesis 22:12), and the floodgates of blessing opened over his life.
So hear me: God is not after your spare change. God is after a sacrifice. The widow’s two coins meant more to Jesus than the rich man’s surplus, as we will see, because of what it cost her. The question this morning is not “How much did you give?” The question is “How much did it cost you?”
This brings us to the second discovery: God does not weigh the size of the gift the way men do — He weighs the heart and the sacrifice behind it. Let me take you to one of the most beautiful scenes in the Gospels. Jesus is sitting opposite the temple treasury, watching how people give:
“Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents. Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, ‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.'” (Mark 12:41–44, NIV)
Stop right there. Jesus watched how people gave — and He still watches today. He saw the rich throwing in “large amounts.” By every human measurement, the rich gave more. The accountant’s ledger would record their gifts as the largest. But Jesus, who reads the heart, made an astonishing declaration: “this poor widow has put in more than all the others.”
How can two small coins be more than large amounts? Because Jesus does not measure giving by what is put in the box — He measures it by what is left in the hand. The rich gave out of their abundance and went home with plenty still in their pockets. But the widow gave “everything—all she had to live on.” She did not give from her surplus; she gave from her substance. She did not give what she could spare; she gave what she could not afford. That is sacrifice. And in the eyes of God, her two coins outweighed all the wealth of the rich combined.
Hear me, somebody: heaven’s mathematics are not earth’s mathematics. In the kingdom of God, the value of your gift is calculated by subtraction, not addition — not by how much you gave, but by how much you had left. The widow’s gift was small in the box but enormous in heaven, because it was a total sacrifice.
This is why Paul instructs us so carefully about the heart of giving:
“Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” (2 Corinthians 9:7, NIV)
God is not merely auditing the amount; He is reading the heart. “Not reluctantly, not under compulsion” — He wants a gift offered freely, joyfully, sacrificially. The Greek word for “cheerful” is hilaros, from which we get “hilarious.” God loves the giver whose heart is so free that giving becomes a joy rather than a grief.
So examine your heart this morning. Not “What can I afford to drop in the box?” but “What is the condition of my heart as I give?” God is sitting opposite the treasury still. He is watching — not the amount, but the sacrifice; not the gift, but the heart that gives it.
Now we come to the heart of the gospel, because we cannot preach on sacrifice without lifting up the greatest Sacrifice ever made. Everything we have said about costly giving finds its ultimate expression at the cross. The supreme model of giving as a sacrifice is God Himself.
Hear the most famous verse in all of Scripture, and hear it as a giving verse:
“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16, NIV)
“God so loved… that he gave.” And what did He give? Not His surplus. Not what He could spare. He gave “his one and only Son” — His Isaac, His most precious treasure, the dearest thing in heaven. The Father did not bring God an offering that cost Him nothing. He gave at the highest possible cost. The cross is the eternal proof that real love always expresses itself in costly sacrifice.
And the Son matched the Father’s sacrifice with His own:
“Who, being in very nature God… made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant… he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!” (Philippians 2:6–8, NIV)
“…the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20, NIV)
He “gave himself.” Jesus did not give us things; He gave us Himself. He emptied Himself, poured Himself out, held nothing back. On Calvary, the Lamb of God became the burnt offering that David’s altar had only foreshadowed — and unlike the lamb, this Sacrifice laid His own hand upon His own head and willingly died in our place.
Beloved, this changes everything about how we give. We do not give in order to earn God’s favour — Christ has already given everything to secure it. We give in response to the sacrifice already made for us. How can I bring God an offering that costs me nothing when He brought me a Sacrifice that cost Him His only Son? How can I cling to my surplus when He did not cling to His glory?
This is why Paul calls our entire lives an offering:
“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.” (Romans 12:1, NIV)
The cross does not merely ask for our money — it asks for us. A living sacrifice. The greatest Giver gave Himself, and now He asks that, in response, we give ourselves wholly to Him. When you have truly seen the sacrifice of Calvary, giving sacrificially is no longer a burden — it becomes worship.
Finally, hear the good news: God is no man’s debtor. The God who asks for sacrifice always responds to sacrifice. There is a divine economy attached to the sacrificial gift, and I do not want any sacrificial giver to leave here without the promise.
First, sacrifice is a pleasing aroma that reaches God. When the Philippians sent Paul a costly gift, he wrote:
“They are a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God. And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:18–19, NIV)
Notice the connection — first “an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God,” then “my God will meet all your needs.” The sacrifice rises to God as a fragrance, and God answers the fragrance with provision. Hebrews echoes it: “And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased” (Hebrews 13:16).
Second, sacrifice opens the law of sowing and reaping. Hear the principle:
“Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously… And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” (2 Corinthians 9:6, 8, NIV)
A sacrifice is a seed. The widow’s two coins, Abel’s firstborn, David’s fifty shekels — these were not losses; they were seeds sown into the soil of God’s faithfulness. And the law of the harvest is unbreakable: what you sow sacrificially, God multiplies in season. Jesus said it Himself:
“Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Luke 6:38, NIV)
Third, sacrifice unlocks the open windows of heaven. Hear God’s own challenge through Malachi:
“‘Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse… Test me in this,’ says the Lord Almighty, ‘and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it.'” (Malachi 3:10, NIV)
This is the only place in Scripture where God says “test Me.” He stakes His own reputation on His response to the sacrificial giver. Remember Abraham — it was after he did not withhold his only son that God said, “I will surely bless you” (Genesis 22:16–17). And remember the widow of Zarephath who gave her last meal to the prophet — and her jar of flour and jug of oil did not run dry through the entire famine (1 Kings 17:14–16).
Now hear me carefully so this is not mistaken: we do not give in order to get. That is the merchant’s heart, not the worshipper’s. We give because God is worthy and because Christ first gave for us. But while our motive is worship, the promise still stands — you cannot out-give God. The hand that gives sacrificially is never left empty, because the God who sees the sacrifice always answers it. Sow your sacrifice in faith, and trust the Lord of the harvest with the increase.
Let me bring it home.
Somebody walked in here this morning who has been giving God leftovers — leftover time, leftover money, leftover energy, leftover love — and wondering why their walk with God feels so powerless. I have come to tell you: God is not after your leftovers. He is after a sacrifice. The widow understood it. Abel understood it. David understood it. And most of all, the Father and the Son demonstrated it at Calvary, where the costliest gift in all of eternity was poured out for you.
So I make my appeal this morning.
To the believer who has been giving casually — let God move you from convenience to sacrifice. Decide today that you will never again bring God an offering that costs you nothing. Bring Him your first, your best, your costliest — and watch the windows of heaven respond.
To the one who has held back the costliest thing — your Isaac, the thing you have refused to surrender — lay it on the altar this morning. What you release in sacrifice, God will return in blessing.
And to the one who has never received the greatest Gift — the Sacrifice of Jesus Christ, given freely for you — come and receive Him today. You cannot give yourself to a Saviour you have not yet met. Come to the cross, where the costliest Gift was given, and give Him your heart in return.
Don’t bring God a gift that costs you nothing, beloved. Bring Him a sacrifice — and discover the God who answers the sacrifice with His own immeasurable generosity.
Let us pray.
Scriptures cited: 2 Samuel 24:24; Mark 12:41–44; 2 Corinthians 9:6–8; Genesis 4:3–5; 22:2,12,16–17; Philippians 2:6–8; 4:18–19; Romans 12:1; Galatians 2:20; John 3:16; Luke 6:38; Malachi 3:10; Hebrews 13:16; 1 Kings 17:14–16.
