Giving is Living – Living is Giving

Giving, as represented in this portion of Michelangelo's
"The Creation of Adam," transcends time and eternity.

We live in a consumer society, drenched every day in a deluge of ads telling us about all the stuff we can’t live without. We’ve perfected the fine art of receiving. So when I read, “Giving is Living – Living is Giving,” it seemed counter-cultural. Then I thought, “That’s right!”

Not that I’m the world’s most generous person; I enjoy receiving things, even in my advancing years. But there’s a lot to be said about giving.

In 1981 I met Bob Lupton, founder of FCS Urban Ministries in Atlanta. The mission of his organization then – as it remains today – was to serve and help poor families to become self-sustaining. As I was interviewing Bob for a magazine article, he made a statement that’s stuck with me ever since: “The greatest poverty is the inability to give.”

He explained even for people with genuine needs, dignity and a sense of self-worth come from being able to give, especially for parents to provide for their children. This is why well-intended Christmas projects to give food, clothes and toys to impoverished families often fall short – the generosity of those that have unintentionally reinforcing the futility of those that have not.

When Jesus said 2,000 years ago, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35), He wasn’t just introducing an idealistic philosophy. He was declaring a timeless principle that when we give, in whatever form, we also receive.

Parents experience this in giving to a child; seeing the delight in the young one’s eyes warms the hearts of mom and dad. Grandparents know this remains true as they interact with their next generation. Dedicated teachers discover this when they not only convey subject material, but also inspire students to learn and grow as individuals. Many nurses find much gratification in caring for patients, whether assisting a new mother give birth or comforting those with debilitating illnesses.

I’ve found giving to be more blessed than receiving while serving as a hospital volunteer, visiting patients who had just undergone open-heart surgery, just as I did years before. Being able to offer encouragement by telling my story and giving suggestions for their recovery process meant far more for me than if I’d been paid for my services.

The same has proved true in mentoring other men, offering my time and attention to assist in their desire to grow personally, professionally and spiritually. In giving, I’ve also received richly, perhaps more than the guys I’ve mentored.

At the same time, the blessing of giving is compromised when it becomes a requirement. That’s why the Bible teaches, “Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:7).

What we all need is not a guilt trip, not brow-beating or high pressure to give, whether it’s of our time, talents, or material resources. What we do need is a reminder that living truly is giving, and giving is living. It’s about the joy – and blessing – of giving, especially to those lacking a means for repaying us for our kindness.

And also an awareness that as we give in the right ways, we are helping others to get into positions of being able to give as well, thereby extricating themselves from what Bob Lupton described as the greatest poverty of all. 

Nonchalant With the Divine?

You’ve probably seen photos or replicas of the famous fresco painting, “The Creation of Adam,” that adorns the ceiling of the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel in Rome. This meticulously conceived work by Michelangelo from the early 1500s is one of the iconic creations in the world of art.

Books have been written about this singular treasure. Art critics through the centuries have been enraptured by its beauty, as well as its profound emotional impact upon all who view it. Recently, someone drew my attention to an intriguing detail in this scene depicted from the book of Genesis.

One of the best-known sections of the painting represents the hands of both God and Adam at the moment of creation. God’s right hand appears to be reaching out in earnest, desperately seeking to touch Adam, the first man. Adam, on the other hand (literally), seems nonchalant, his left hand almost limp, displaying little exertion for reciprocating toward the Divine.

If a caption were written, Adam might well be saying something like, “Oh, hi. How ya doin’?”

Perhaps in Michelangelo’s mind, Adam was just awakening, groggily becoming aware of what was happening. So in that context, the less-than-earnest effort displayed for reaching toward God might be understandable. But it occurs to me that this must be how God views how we feebly approach Him at times.

If you’re a parent, you remember how eagerly we’ve been greeted by our children when we returned home from work or an errand. “Mommy, Mommy!” or “Daddy, Daddy!” they scream with delight, running toward us for a welcoming embrace. By the time they’re teenagers, however, that enthusiasm is usually gone. We walk into the room and all we get is a shrug or “Hey,” while they stay focused on the text they’re sending, a game on their tablet, or the TV show they’re watching.

Sometimes we’re the same as believers. Early in our walk with God, we’re all “Daddy, Daddy!” – or “Abba, Abba!” to use the correct biblical term. But as months and years in our spiritual journey wind along, our excited greetings degenerate into a casual wave. The effort to get ready to attend a worship service starts seeming like too much trouble. Even though we know it would be good to devote some quality time each day to prayer and studying the Bible, it seems there’s always something more urgent to address.

That’s why I often try to remind myself that unlike Adam’s depiction in Michelangelo’s masterpiece, I need to pursue the Lord as eagerly as He has pursued me. “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water” (Psalm 63:1).

More and more it seems we’re living in a similarly “dry and weary land” where fervent faith isn’t “cool.” But that doesn’t mean it’s not important and shouldn’t be cultivated. Do we thirst and long for God, as the psalmist writes?

Taking a lackadaisical attitude toward our relationship with God, fired up only by the furnace of crisis and then soon cooled afterward, runs the risk of becoming like the church of Laodicea, described in the book of Revelation: “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! Because you are neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth” (Revelation 3:15-16).

In other words, if the idea of spending time with God no longer lights your fire, check to see if your wood is wet!