| Why Do We Give?
It seems to me that perhaps one of the most striking qualities of us humans is that we respond sympathetically to human suffering and need.
This isn’t to say we live in a world without warring and fighting and senseless violence. Perhaps the planet will never be free from those who, unable to live as fully human and find peaceable ways to problem-solve, resort instead to subhuman methods that only extend the misery, pain and suffering. Fortunately, the overwhelming global sentiment runs in favor of helping the weak, the marginalized and the suffering.
But it’s not so clear, is it? While we’ll open our pocketbooks to feed hungry and homeless children — orphaned, for example, by the devastating earthquake in Haiti — we’re less likely to respond the same way if the request is for funds to build, create and support the infrastructure of a fourth-world country so that when disasters strike, the outcome has to some extent been mitigated.
Then you have to wonder what would happen to charitable giving if the tax deduction disappeared.
What about all the fundraising organizations that exist solely to help you siphon to your organization — and not another organization — the available donations from the softhearted American? Given that fundraising is a huge industry in this country, what does that say about us? Are we truly generous and altruistic? If so, why do businesses exist to raise money? Or are we greedy, heartless, parsimonious penny pinchers?
As Meryl Streep’s character says in a movie released over the holidays: “It’s complicated.”
That aside, I wonder why we give at all. It’s certainly, on a primal level, an anti-evolutionary response. The strong do not help the weak. In the natural world, that seems to work as it’s supposed to work.
Do we give because humans, while a part of nature, are distinct from nature? Because, possessing a mind and soul, we are exempt from evolutionary considerations and free, in a counterintuitive way, to help the weak and nurture them back to wholeness?
While we believe that all people should bear their own burdens, and that “God helps those who help themselves” — not a biblical citation, BTW — we also believe that the human community is human precisely because we have instinctive predilections to help those in need, to mitigate pain and suffering, to keep people from dying, to bind up the wounds of the fallen.
That humans have heart has nothing to do with the God gene. Believer and nonbeliever, atheist and agnostic, Jew, Christian, Muslim, Hindu and Buddhist not only respond instinctively to the plight of the helpless but, in the case of the religious, are bound by covenants that mandate giving to the poor.
And here’s another thing: the link between communities and compassion. Communities seem to have the effect of helping us remember our humanity, nurture our humanness and underscore the importance and value of human life. Herein lies one important aspect of the church’s presence in the world. A 2001 study by Independent Sector revealed that households in which members volunteer for charitable causes or at their church give more than twice as much money to charities as do households with no volunteers.
It’s fine for preachers to explain what it means to be divine, and to educate us as to our relationship with the Divine. But it is likewise important for the preacher to enlighten us as to what it means to be human, including that little bit about the imago dei.
The response of Christians, indeed humans everywhere, to the overwhelming and ongoing need in Haiti has been amazing. When these things happen, not only do we see the fingerprints of God touching the lives of the needy, but we see all that is noble in human beings. Our generous response to the poor reveals human beings who, wearing the white robes of compassion, are crowned with mercy and kindness. This is who God created us to be.
It certainly was true of the Rev. Dr. Sam Dixon, executive officer of the United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR). He was at the Hotel Montana in Port-au-Prince as part of a group of humanitarians when the earthquake occurred. Because Dixon was pinned in the rubble, rescue workers could not reach him before he died. According to one source, “The Rev. Sam Dixon came to Haiti to make life better for the poor and afflicted. As the leader of the United Methodist Committee on Relief, Dixon traveled the world assisting Indonesians whose homes were washed away by the tsunami, Africans whose crops had withered under unrelenting drought and Americans needing shelter after tornadoes destroyed their neighborhoods.”
Now, you’d think we’d come down with compassion fatigue at some point, but instead, if anything, we’re looking at compassion competition. We’re eager to find ways to help those unable to help themselves.
This is a good thing — for a host of reasons. It’s even good for our health. “Several studies over the years have found links between altruistic behavior and improved physical and psychological health,” says Dr. Ann Vincent, an internal medicine physician at Mayo Clinic who researches the mind-body connection. “In general, I think altruism makes people feel better about themselves, which often translates into improved physical health.”
Being generous gives us more than just a temporary “helper’s high.” Vincent goes on to say that the benefits of giving yield long-term results. “The more you give, the better you may feel, and that means finding ways to give back throughout the year. Generosity is also a wonderful survival skill to help you get through difficult times in your life.”
If this hypothesis is correct, and if this principle can be applied to communities such as the church, can we, then, measure the healthiness of our local church by the level of its giving?
Albert Oetgen, a senior correspondent for NBC, concludes in his essay “Why Americans Give” that “it seems then, we give because we are good. The part of the American character that is hopeful and generous — while flawed, while not perfect — is fundamentally intact.”
Well, maybe. Perhaps we give because we’re good. But Christians give for an even greater reason: We love. We love with the love of God. I conclude with these words, expressed more eloquently than I ever could, from Frederick Buechner in his The Magnificent Defeat. He writes:
The love for equals is a human thing — of friend for friend, brother for brother. It is to love what is loving and lovely. The world smiles.
The love for the less fortunate is a beautiful thing — the love for those who suffer, for those who are poor, the sick, the failures, the unlovely. This is compassion, and it touches the heart of the world.
The love for the more fortunate is a rare thing — to love those who succeed where we fail, to rejoice without envy with those who rejoice, the love of the poor for the rich, of the black man for the white man. The world is always bewildered by its saints.
And then there is the love for the enemy — love for the one who does not love you but mocks, threatens and inflicts pain. The tortured’s love for the torturer.
This is God’s love. It conquers the world.
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