Generous givers and Christmas blessings
When Baptists realize they have sinned and are grappling with the right response to that sin, we call it “being under conviction.” A news article recently reminded me of two times when I was convicted of not being a giver. I felt “condemned at the bar of my own conscience,” as one theologian puts it.
The article reported on a speech by Acworth Mayor Tommy Allegood. At a Cobb County Chamber of Commerce gathering, Allegood encouraged business leaders to make giving a priority this Christmas season. Acknowledging that Cobb County is already a giving community, the mayor challenged chamber members to dig a bit deeper this year to help the needy.
The article pitched my mind back to the early years of married life when I almost abandoned tithing because I thought I could no longer do it. Tithing was just too difficult, or so I thought. Sitting down one evening to pay bills in the third month of my non-tithing, I decided I could no longer contend with the gentle chirping of my deceased tenant farmer father who had perched on my shoulder for the last two months.
Beyond tithing, my father would often reach into his overall pockets and retrieve a dollar or two for tramps at the train depot where he parked in town on Saturdays. He would do the same for poor Choctaw families walking past our house toward town. Before writing bills on that third month, a thought bombarded my mind: if Daddy can tithe, anybody can tithe. The terrific Georgia church I was attending would not have missed my tithe check, but the small country church of my youth probably would have missed my father’s despite its small amount. However, the receivers of our checks were not the issue. The issue was the bar of our own conscience.
Mayor Allegood’s plea also turned my mind back to 30-plus years ago when our oldest child was a freshman at Samford University in Birmingham, Alabama. A private Christian college and not a cheap one, Samford was Christy’s deep desire. She being a high achiever and a precious child, my wife and I knew we had to make her choice a reality. We knew we would have to double up on two of our three financial principles: spend wisely and save methodically. As for the third one, give generously, we would just have to see.
Toward the end of Christy’s freshman year, we received an envelope in the mail with no inside address. It contained an anonymous note with kind words and a check for $1,000. Within hours I was praying our unknown benefactor into the choicest spot in heaven. A month later, a check for $500. The third check was for $1,000 again. Toward the end of Christy’s second college year and after several more checks, the total came to $10,000.
Christy graduated on time. At her graduation, instead of paying full attention to the tremendous words of the great Coach Bobby Bowdon, I stood at the bar of my conscience. Some voice other than my father’s was tweeting: “Rich folks can be givers and poor folks can too. You’ve got to give more.”
In December of 2000 at UGA, Gov. Roy Barnes spoke with conviction and power to the incoming freshmen class of the General Assembly. “I believe,” he said, “that one reason Georgia has fared better economically than our sister states is that we tried harder to do the right thing about race.” From his words I took spiritual import. You do the right thing; you get blessed. Not always instantly, but eventually. My supposedly well-off benefactor and my definitely poor father were blessed, I believe, because they blessed. Whether with race relations or charitable giving, doing the right thing is rewarded.
There are numerous worthy charitable organizations that need our support. There are also individuals we meet daily who have needs. Why not this Christmas an outrageous $50 bill for a restaurant server? Why not anonymously pick up the tab for a young couple in a restaurant whose overheard conversation revealed they could use the help this Christmas?
Those who know the mayor and the governor know they are givers. I want to be like them and my dear old dad. Let’s give as much as we can this year. A Merry Christmas will simply become a second blessing.