So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.
— Matthew 6:2–4
Following the Call—Chap. 26: When You Give
Poverty and humiliation. On not being thieves. One kind of prosperity. Your turn.
Indeed this also is theft, not to share one’s possessions. Perhaps this statement seems surprising to you, but do not be surprised….not only the theft of others’ goods but also the failure to share one’s own goods with others is theft and swindle and defraudation.
— John Chrysostom
Poverty and Humiliation
Jesus warns against religious hypocrisy and cites the matter of giving to the poor as a case in point. Jesus’ point is simple: do your deeds of piety in secret; don’t call attention to them—not even to yourself! Hide your good deeds. They are not so special! As Jesus would teach elsewhere: “When you have done all that is commanded you should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty’” (Luke 17:10).
But Jesus isn’t just warning against self-righteousness here. Those who strut their goodness in front of others do so at the humiliation of those they are supposedly trying to help. If the poor are to receive something, they also have to come out into the open. “Their need,” writes Addison Hodges Hart, “is also made a spectacle.” While the well-off may be praised, they do so at the expense of the poor.
If you think I may be over-interpreting this passage, consider how widows were treated in Jesus’ day (Mark 12:41-44; Luke 20:46—21:4). Widows were not only vulnerable, but taken advantage of. Religious leaders managed their estates, and would then urge them to give sacrificially to the Temple. When Jesus saw a widow who gave her last two copper coins into the treasury he praises her. The scribes and Pharisees obviously gave more, but they did so at the widow’s expense. Instead of redistributing collections to the needy, they used temple funds on conspicuous consumption, wearing long, fine robes and holding lavish banquets. They not only failed to give rightly, they took advantage of those they were duty-bound to help.
How does this apply to us today? The piece written by Tolstoy in this chapter challenges us to look beyond our spending and giving habits to the very system that benefits us at the expense of others. If we’re honest, many of us are beneficiaries of a system that isn’t working for vast numbers of people—people who work just as hard if not harder than we do. There are structural factors why this is so, which we cannot get into here. Whether we fully understand these factors or not, we don’t have to accept them as inevitable.
On Not Being Thieves
Chrysostom argues that not to share with others is theft. Basil the Great concurs. “When we take someone’s clothes we call them a thief. Should we not give the same name to one who could clothe the naked and does not? The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry; the coat unused in your closet belongs to the one who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the one who has no shoes; the money which you hoard up belongs to the poor.”
So how do we end such thievery? Rob from the rich, give to the poor? Chrysostom’s answer is simpler: “Use your goods sparingly, as belonging to others, so that they may become your own.” In other words, spend less on yourself and more on others and their needs. And more importantly, consider the needs of others as our own. This changes the dynamic of giving and receiving altogether.
There is a Jewish legend that takes place on Mount Moriah, where Abraham went to sacrifice his son Isaac and where the Temple would later be built. The story goes something like this:
Once there were two brothers who inherited their father’s land. The brothers divided the land in half and each one farmed his own section. The two brothers lived on two sides of a mountain. One was rich but had no children, one had many children but was very poor.
The rich brother thought, I have so much and my brother has so little, let me secretly cross the mountain in the middle of the night and bring my brother an extra crop. The poor brother thought, I derive so much happiness from my children, let me secretly bring my brother some of my crop so he could have a little extra joy in this world.
And so it went every night. Each of the brothers secretly crossed the mountain to bring their brother food. Every morning the brothers would inspect their stock, only to discover that nothing was missing. Neither could explain the phenomena but both thanked God for his kindness and continued in their good will.
Then something happened. Instead of the two brothers passing each other unnoticed in the night, there on top of the mountain they met. They looked at each other in surprise, at first not recognizing each other in the shadow of the moon. Then simultaneously they realized what had been happening. They both spontaneously embraced one another there on top of the mountain as they cried for joy.
There’s something so good, so right, so hopeful about this story. No deed is too small, no sacrifice is too great to meet our brother’s need. This is what brothers do. They consider the other as their own. But as wonderful as this story is, there is also something not quite right about it. Why did the two brothers have to divide their land in the first place? Why did they have to consider what they had as their own? Why did they farm separate fields, by themselves on opposite sides of the mountain?
When we shift from a “mine” vs. “yours” to an “ours” mentality, the “other” indeed becomes my own. Their need is my need, and vice versa. Solidarity replaces charity.
Much of the disparity that exists between rich and poor today, between our lifestyle of plenty and those in want, is because we consider what is ours as not belonging to others. We forget that what we have ultimately belongs to God (Psa. 24:1; Deut. 10:14) and to be shared by all.
In God’s economy, “private property” is a misnomer, disparity no longer exists, and almsgiving is no longer necessary. “There were no needy persons among them,” Luke says of the first Christians. No one considered anything as their own. In this context, “giving” is but the fruit of our life together.
One Kind of Prosperity
Despite what prosperity preachers tell us, according to the Bible there is one reason and one reason only why God prospers us: that the needs of others are met. I leave you with just a few Scripture references to ponder: Deuteronomy 15:7-11; 24:17-22; Psalm 112; Jeremiah 22:13-17; Luke 16:19-31; 2 Corinthians 8:1-15; 9:8-11; 1 Timothy 6:6-10, 17-19.
Your Turn
Why do we find it hard to conceptualize going beyond giving alms? Just reply to this email to leave a comment.