April 27 Krum Star Article,
"The Paradox of Generosity"
“I just don’t like
to shop anymore—I already have so much stuff that
there is no pleasure in buying more.” I overhead
these words recently at a baby shower, where a bundle
of people had done a whole bunch of shopping for one of
my sons and his wife who are expecting their first child,
a daughter. The two of them live in a small apartment
in Manhattan. My son, who came in near the end of the
gathering, gazed with somewhat glazed-over eyes at the
stacks of adorable girl clothes and piles of blankets
and sheets. I could almost read his mind: “Where
on earth are we going to put all this stuff—and
a new baby as well?” And “Exactly HOW are
we going to get all this stuff back to New York in the
first place?”
Stuff, stuff, stuff. We accumulate
a lot and then buy bigger houses and rent storage facilities
to keep it all. But does it bring contentment? Do those
ever growing piles of things (and often the ever-growing
piles of credit card bills accompanying the ever growing
piles of things) bring security and peace and happiness
and joy?
Can we need and have less and
still be content? There is much research these days on
the nature of happiness. A funny article in Forbes
Magazine about a year ago talks about people who
do this kind of research, whom the author of the article
calls, “happiometricians.” I think he made
up the word. Nonetheless, this seems to be a growing field
as an increasingly physically comfortable world—at
least for most people—does not seem to be accompanied
by higher levels of happiness. Depending upon which “happiometrician”
you read, Americans may be only the 16th happiest people
in the world—and we certainly excel in owning lots
of stuff.
Personally, I think the Apostle
Paul has it right when he wrote in his letter to the Philippians
these words, “Actually, I don't have a sense of
needing anything personally. I've learned by now to be
quite content whatever my circumstances” (Phil.
4:11, The Message Translation).
Learning to be content. What
a novel idea! Just appreciate where we are and what we
have and discover satisfaction in it. And how do we learn
this kind of contentment? In my own experience—both
in my life and as I observe the lives of those around
me—the most content people are those who are most
generous. There level of generosity seems to be completely
unrelated to whether they do or do not have stuff. It’s
their focus that is different—there is less emphasis
on accumulation of stuff and more on the joy of giving.
Truly, it is one of the great paradoxes in life: those
who give the most often have the most—but that “most”
is not necessarily stuff.
These content ones are those
who live most open-handedly. Open hands before God give
us the ability to receive and to treasure what we receive.
And open hands before others give us the privilege to
pass on those treasures we have received so freely. Instead
of stagnant ponds, they are running streams, fed from
the never-ending bounty of the grace and goodness of God.
Certainly, radical generosity
and the choice of contentment no matter what have costs.
We must take steps of faith, walking into an unknown world
without guaranteed returns. There are no promises that
say, “If you accumulate less stuff, your happiness
quotient will dramatically rise” or “if you
give this much, then God will give you back this much
more.” There are no specified return-on-investment
numbers that can be entered into an accounting ledger.
But for those who take this journey into contentment and
generosity, there is freedom, lightness of soul, and awareness
of greater things that can’t be measured monetarily.
It’s worth thinking about.
