The parable from the New Testament goes something like this: It's collection day at the temple, and all of the noble-types are making huge donations, after which their names are announced along with the amount of their donation and trumpets are played to honor their generosity. Then a poor beggar woman comes forward and gives the only money she has - two pennies. No announcement or trumpets, but Jesus jumps up and says, "You hypocrites! Here you are bragging about giving what you can afford, but this woman has given all that she has. Her gift is greater."
The parable from my own personal experience goes like this: During my freshman year of college, I came down with a nasty cold that was a bit more than the campus health clinic could handle. I didn't have a car, so I called for a taxi to take me to the nearest urgent care facility. The taxi never showed up, but a bus came along, so I decided to take a chance with public transportation as the place I needed to go was just a few miles up the street.
Having never ridden a bus before, I had no idea that the $20 I had grabbed to pay cab fare would not work in the bus's automatic fare-taker machine, which only took exact change. I had no change. The bus driver, having pulled away from the curb even before the door had closed behind me, looked at me like I must be from Mars and headed for the next stop, instructing me that I would have to exit since I could not pay the fare.
I was dumbfounded. Already feverish, sick and sniveling, I began sobbing and could not speak. Through a blur of tears, I saw a small, dark figure move forward from the back of the bus, dig through a worn change purse that contained no paper currency whatsoever and produce my bus fare. Still dumbfounded, I managed to find my seat, choke down my sobs for a few more stops, then stumble into the urgent care to complete my breakdown. I don't even think I said thank you to the woman who paid my bus fare. In hindsight, I should have just given her the $20.
The New Testament parable was the basis of today's sermon, in which Reverend Karen took what could have been the typical stewardship rally sermon to a new level. She discussed giving as a "spiritual exercise."
I have been mulling over some thoughts along these same lines, and this morning's sermon helped clarify some of these concepts. In terms of finances and material things, I'd say that my household is in a fairly comfortable category of having enough to cover our "basic" needs without digging further into our debt hole, but no more than that. In fact, Patrick and I joke that we are subject to the Murphy's Law of money. If we ever find ourselves with some unexpected windfall, we get hit with an unexpected expense of about the same amount. (Case in point, the week Patrick got paid for his first job, I blew out a tire on the minivan). Fortunately, this law of money has worked in reverse for us a few times as well. When we need to pay for something unexpected, usually a windfall is not too far off. Still, we regularly feel that we'd be more "comfortable" if we could save a little more, or a little less stressed if we could achieve our goal to pay down our debt.
It seems quite an acceptable thing to have goals, and for those goals to push us, to require some effort to achieve. How many people do you know who a personal goal to achieve nothing. Who says, "Six months from now, I hope to be exactly the same as I am now." We'd say, "That's not a goal!" Heck, I even have "hair goals" because it seems unacceptable to keep the same 'do for too long.
But, for some things, I wonder what purpose it serves to have goals that continually increase. We never feel satisfied. We never feel that we've accomplished what we've set out to do, even though we've far exceeded many previous goals. We never stop to enjoy what we have.
Particularly with money, I've found it to be true that the more you have, the more you need. Think about that as a mathematical equation for a moment, with X being the amount you have, and X + 10 being the amount you need. You want the amount you have, X, to equal the amount you need, X + 10, but as soon as you increase the amount you have, the amount you need increases as well. The two can never be equal.
Unmathematically speaking, I think of it as the power money has over us. I think of all the stress people suffer because they are unable to achieve their monetary or other goals. Lord knows how many marriages have perished because one or both spouses felt they did not have enough money and did not share the same philosophy on what "enough" money is or how to deal with not having "enough." As the amount you need (X + 10) increases, so do these stresses.
So, how do you get out from under the power of money? How do you decrease the stress? Decrease your need, of course. If my mathematical hypothesis holds true, decreasing the amount you have (X) will decrease the amount you need (X + 10).
This puts a whole new spin on charitable giving. Where many advocate that you should give and give generously in order to support the work of the church, stop world hunger, save the whales, what have you, the concept of giving as a spiritual exercise is more about blasting through all the materialism and coin counting in order to appreciate and receive valuable spirituality with which our materialism interferes. (My apologies if this is a bit too esoteric - as I mentioned in the previous post, it is very difficult for me to NOT think deeply sometimes, and I don't feel like making that much of an effort at the moment.)
Has anyone ever given until it hurts? I've been "stupid generous" in the past - it's a long story, but I once paid $1500 for a live band to appear at a law school function as a matter of principle. This was way more money than I could afford, but I knew I wasn't going to be out on the street as a result. The law school later reimbursed me for the expense, and I fully intended to pay the law school back once I was earning an attorney's salary. I haven't done that. Funny, how easy it was for me to give up that $1500 as a law student earning well under $20,000 per year and yet I can't bring myself to make that kind of gift now, as a well-compensated attorney.
Of course, that was before we had kids, or a hefty mortgage. Now, when I make financial donations, the amount of my contribution is tempered by the fear that I may not have enough to take care of my family. What if we had to sacrifice some comforts? What if we couldn't afford our house anymore?
In part, I get up and go to work in the incredibly materialistic, numbers-driven world of lawsuits, damages, billable hours and incentive bonuses every day because of that fear. I give, but not until it hurts. I'm still subject to the power of money.
Love of family can fuel some powerful fears. So, maybe I won't be brave enough to fully test my hypothesis, but I remain curious to discover if it holds true: the less you have, the less you'll need. There may even be a proportional decrease in the X additive, 10, such that when your need decreases below a certain level, the equation would look more like "X does not quite = X + 7" or "X is enough even though X + 5 would be great" or "X is really all I need even though everything else tells me I need X + 3," or “X » Æ Í Ñ ¥”
Peace,
FD
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