The season of giving is supposedly upon us, but as in years past I’m a bit of a humbug. It seems as though I’m not alone.
I’ve been witness to a number of conversations in the past week or so about panhandlers and the things they do to ‘trick us’ out of our hard-earned money. We’re appalled when we read in New York Magazine that the bum on the street corner below our office is making upwards of 24K a year. We get noticably angry at the guy who apparently tells the same sob story to everyone he meets about how his daughter is going into surgery and he needs cab fare to go visit her because he can’t walk all that way given his injury sustained in the war.
Is he lying? Probably. But who’s the villian in this situation – him or us?
The Christmas season is now upon us, and many of us will feel compelled to give that guy a few bucks out of the ‘goodness of our hearts.’ Hell, we may even volunteer at a soup kitchen or something. But I wonder what the spirit is with which we engage in such acts of benevolence. Are they out of true caring and love for our neighbor, or out of some need we have to feel better about ourselves, better about the ways we spend our money and our time?
Why is it so hard for us to part with our money? Why do we feel anger at the guy asking us to help him out? Why are we more likely to walk right by, cursing under our breath about how he should go find a job, or simply ignoring him altogether?
These were questions I was fortunate enough to avoid for much of my life. Living in Colorado or Seattle, one is confronted with poverty fairly infrequently. But in New York it’s all around you – not only are you confronted with the face of America’s homeless and poor on a daily basis, but you have the added benefit of the juxtaposition between their lifestyle and the lifestyle of the wealthiest people in the world.
I could rail against the people who wear $400 sunglasses and who spend more money on their dogs than many people make in a year, but I’d be a hypocrite to do so. I’ve been made painfully aware of the fact that I’m just as greedy and tight-fisted as they are – the only difference is one of degree.
Christ talks about how we are to give joyfully. He talks about how our money is not our own, and how a true Christian and his money are easily parted – for they realize that the money is but a gift from their creator and they feel compelled to share that gift with their brothers and sisters in thie world, Christian or not.
How many people do you know who live this way? How many people give that guy on the corner $5 and are happy about it – not because it makes them look good but because they just had an opportunity to spend their money in the most appropriate way possible? How many people do you know who would give that guy $5 on Monday, and give them another $5 when they saw them the next day?
How many Christian people do you know who live in big houses and drive fancy cars and wear designer clothes? How many of them do you think would squirm if you suggested they give up their house and car and exotic vacation this summer for the sake of someone else – or for the sake of the God they claim to love? How many of them do you know who think of giving 10% to their church not as a chore but as an opportunity to give sincere thanks? How many of them think 10% is only the beginning?
How many people do you see or hear about who truly epitomize the spirit of giving? Honestly, I don’t know a soul – I know I sure don’t.
Christ talks about how it’s harder for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of Heaven. Which means that the church has a whole lot of soul-searching to do – we all do.
Here’s to the season of giving – here’s to living like that actually means something.
