Generous gift joyfully given helps both donor,
recipient
This time of year, I get all kinds of solicitations for donations. I think every religious order, every fundamentalist ministry,
every mainline denomination and even remote ministries to Eskimos
has asked me for money at Christmas. Why they do this is beyond my understanding. This time of year
I have very little discretionary money, and I simply can't afford
to give to all the organizations that solicit me. And yet they
persist. Every year around Dec. 1, the mail intensifies, and I
can be found amid a mound of clutter trying to get through the
day. Why don't they ask for money in July? My guess is they're hoping
to cash in on people's need to have more charitable contributions
for income tax purposes. That may make some sense for wealthier
people, but not for me. Unfortunately, most of these organizations need money desperately.
Despite a banner year in 1997 for charitable giving, donations
had dropped drastically across the board in the years before.
It's time to support our religious interests, because they need
our help. Here's the first secret of giving. You don't give to religious
organizations because they need your money. You give because it
gives you a certain joy. You give because it makes your daily
burdens lighter. You give because it feels good. That's not just religious talk. It's the truth. I remember a wealthy woman, the head of a bank. When she came
to church, people noticed her. She drove a big car. She wore furs
and big hats, and she was gruff. One day she came into the church
office and announced she was going to raise her pledge. Someone
gave her a pledge card and she sat down and filled it out. She
raised her pledge from $1 a week to $1.50 a week. That was 30 years ago, and she was probably only making $100,000
a year. In my opinion, her pledge should have been $10,000 a year. Contrast that to a brother and sister who lived together frugally
and tithed every year I knew them. And when they died, the sister
left $400,000, and the brother left $900,000 to the congregation. Who do you think was happier, the gruff bank president or the
brother and sister? I don't even have to tell you. The brother and sister were bubbly and full of radiance because
of their faith. The dour bank president lived solely for herself
and called the church office each week with a complaint. The brother
and sister never complained, never had a criticism and never gossiped
about anyone, including the preachers. Preachers tell me the generous contributors don't give pastors
trouble. It's the unhappy people, those who give a pittance of
their income. From my experience, they are the people who will
start rumors, telling false stories about anyone who crosses their
path. Here's the other secret to giving: It should be done in a spirit
of joy. I remember a man in one of the churches I served whose
donation to the congregation was all the grain from one of the
many farms he owned. One year, we started a Sunday afternoon of contemporary worship.
For some odd reason, this parishioner hated that service, even
though he had never attended. He came to a church council meeting
one evening and told the assembled fathers he would give all the
grain from two farms this year -- if they would wipe out the contemporary
service. The church council debated the issue for several minutes. The
pastors appealed to the council's collective wisdom, almost begging
it not to accept the donation under those circumstances. Our wealthy man stood in the back of the room and listened.
Finally, he spoke again. "Furthermore, you won't get anything from me if you don't
wipe out that silly service," he said. The council sat in silence, pondering the loss in terms of
dollars: about $20,000, or $40,000 counting the second farm. Finally one of the members of the church council spoke. I recall
it like this: "I think what is happening here is a bold move
to control our church. If we take this money, it's like a bribe
and we will be dealing with this man for years, paying us to run
the congregation the way he wants. I've never taken a bribe in
my life and I'm not going to start now. I make a motion we turn
this offer down." The motion passed, and our wealthy friend left in a huff. It was a grand victory for all things progressive, and the
church council was jubilant. I suppose we had to struggle a bit
that year until others picked up the slack. But the best thing about that so-called gift was that it reminded
me to always give with a spirit of joy.
Clark D. Morphew
Posted For December 12, 1998