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Small children know what to do when they touch a hot
stove—they jump back and jerk their hands away. The
response is automatic and sensible. That’s the image
that comes to mind when I think about being generous in
times like these.
Whether the
economic downturn has touched us directly or not, we all
seem to feel the need to pull back, be cautious, and
prepare for the worst. In short, we think we need to
protect what we have. Times like these don’t inspire us
to generosity.
But living a
generous life is not an option for Christians; it is a
requirement. This was the commandment Christ gave to us
on Maundy Thursday: that we love one another. And loving
one another leads to generosity.
For those
people of faith who have already adopted a lifestyle of
generosity, giving is an expression of love and
gratitude; it is a natural response. But for many of us,
a deep-seated love of giving is not automatic. It is
more logical to believe that we will have more if we
keep to ourselves whatever money or things we have
gained. We think that we can give later—when we have
“enough,” or maybe when we’re older, or better yet, in
our wills.
It seems
counter-intuitive but the reality is this: The more we
give away, the more we have.
Many addicts
have discovered this truth in recovery, where a popular
adage is “To keep your sobriety, you must give it away.”
In other words, you need to share your sobriety with
others as a means of staying sober yourself. Likewise,
in order to enjoy fully the abundance God has given us,
we must share it with others. This is part of living in
community as Christians.
What if I
understand this concept of generosity on an intellectual
level but my innermost self is still afraid to let go
and give? If God loves a cheerful giver, should I give
even if I do it reluctantly or out of a sense of
obligation?
This is not a
question just for our time. It was also on the mind of
the 12th-century philosopher and scholar Rabbi Moses ben
Maimon, better known as Maimonides. Today Maimonides’
“Ladder of Charity” can prove to be a helpful metaphor
for our own giving.
Here are Maimonides’ eight steps on the ladder, from the
lowest to the highest forms of giving (see Julie
Salamon’s 2003 book Rambam’s Ladder: A Meditation on
Generosity and Why It Is Necessary to Give for
more).
We all know what it means to give begrudgingly, whether
out of guilt or obligation. There is no cheerfulness
here, no joy for the giver.
On this rung of the ladder, the giver is concerned with
how much she has to give. Is it a tithe, and if so, is
it a tithe on one’s gross or net income? Here the giving
may be done voluntarily but it is limited in scope.
This person will give to the poor, but only after being
asked. Maimonides saw this as a lower form of giving
because it violates the dignity of the poor. People
shouldn’t have to beg for survival.
Givers on this rung offer charity to the poor before
being asked, but do so with an air of superiority. The
receiver suffers shame in the exchange, another
violation of human dignity. (continued
on next page)
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