Generosity

It has been a long, hot summer, one that has challenged all of us to maintain a stance of grace within the world. We have seen multiple acts of random violence and seen the sweep of tragedy in places where no one should have to meet it. I simply name the recent cities of Lafayette, Chattanooga, and Charleston and the images rise. The world has gone crazy and it is more than we can handle. 

So, some of us close up inside ourselves. We shut down. We withdraw. We decide to exit stream of life because it is safer, quieter, and seemingly impenetrable. 

Scripture, though, calls for another way—openness. As the Church, we are to be open to the world, its hurts, its needs, and to bring Jesus to the fore. 

But there is the clincher—how? How do we stay open? St. John offers the direct answer—

But if anyone has the world's goods and sees someone in need, yet closes their heart against them, how does God's love abide

       in them? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.

—1 John 3:17,18

The simple answer is we accept God’s generosity when we become generous. It is akin to St. Luke remembering something else Jesus said—

Forgive, and you will be forgiven.

—Luke 6:37c

So how are we generous?

First, a generous presence lays the foundation for all else. What is that? It is meeting someone else in openness. It is accepting their presence just because they are there. It is approaching others with warmth instead of guardedness or defensiveness. It is allowing a smile to be the first word. It is amazing how powerful such a simple act can be in setting the tone for an encounter. Entering an office, how the receptionist meets the newcomer immediately sets the tone for the visit—coldness begets coldness, warmth begets warmth. That carries over into all of our encounters with anyone and everyone. Welcome communicates that someone is all right, that we have common ground with which to begin our meeting. 

So move to the second form of generosity—a generous mind. What does that mean? A generous mind is open to ideas we may not have considered before. It is open to accepting that someone else may be every bit as wise as we are (or more so). It is the wondrous grace of allowing yourself NOT to be the smartest person in the room, giving yourself room to grow, learn, and be led by someone else. It is realizing that no one has a death grip on being right, but rather as we share ideas, insights, and experiences, we allow ourselves a lot of room to create, redeem, and redirect ourselves, perhaps right back into the kingdom of God. 

Now consider a third form of generosity—a generous heart. What does that mean? A generous heart is open to the reality and presence of other people. A generous heart will listen deeply before speaking. A generous heart will accept differences as a sign of the wonderful depth, breadth, and span of God’s creative imagination. A generous heart will allow itself the beautiful grace of NOT having to serve as self-appointed judge of all others. Instead, it will weave experiences and stories together, forming bonds, communions, and communities. It will collect disparate people, allowing them to discover that the children of God come in all kinds of colors, attitudes, ages, orientations, and denominations. A generous heart always leads in, by, and through love.

And then there is a fourth form of generosity—a generous spirit. What does that mean? A generous spirit is open to the presence of God, and, then, immediately offers what is found in God to someone else. Throughout the New Testament, there is a not so subtle proclamation that Jesus is no more and no less than the living presence of God’s generosity. Human existence, with its inherent freedom of will, mind, and heart offers the endlessly morphing choice between doing what is beneficial, expressing God’s love in our words and actions, and what seems to come far more easily—that which makes us feel good through self-gratification that may well come at the expense of someone else. The result is that humanity often finds itself estranged from God and somewhat helpless in finding our way home. This summer has been such a time, indeed, with yet another shooting rolling across the headlines as another broken human being takes out innocent bystanders who did nothing wrong. That’s three times in almost three weeks. Enough. It is time to hear the message of God’s generosity anew—God has not left us; God draws near; and, in Christ, God himself brings us home—we need do nothing more than accept the gift. A generous spirit brings us into a direct encounter with the generosity of God. 

Which now leads us, ironically into the most basic form of generosity—charity. If we see someone hungry, and we have a pantry full, then share the groceries. If we see someone who is half-dressed in falling part clothes, and we have a closet full of clothes, then dress them. If someone asks us to give money to support a ministry that seeks to care for the sick, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the homeless, or get them jobs, and we have more than enough to pay our own bills, then give. See? That requires little teaching—we know this lesson already. But if we practice charity having first worked through all the forms of generosity, then such acts of giving become sacramental—they become sacred because they flow through the presence, grace, and communion with out God. They become manifestations of a sacred openness, a blending and melding of mind, heart, spirit, and action. 

And in this way we bring a cooling wash of grace to a long, hot summer. We recover, reconsider, reclaim, and redeem. 

So, be generous as God in heaven is generous.