A Daily Meditation for Those Following Jesus through the Desert of Lent

Saturday, February 20, 2010

ALMS, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE-AND OURS

The First Saturday in Lent

I don’t remember when I discovered the difference between “tithing” and “almsgiving.” I do remember my reaction—I was shocked and irritated. I also remember how I found out—my saintly confessor of many (many) years ago, Fr Homer Rogers, chided me about it—during confession! Not too long before, I had begun tithing, giving ten percent of my income to the church. I was proud of it—i.e., pleased that I had taken up the challenge, pleased because I knew it made me better than those who didn’t. As I say, I don’t remember all the particulars, but I do remember the most damning one. While making my confession, laying out my sins before God, I’d managed to work in that I tithed. Surely Fr Rogers would admire me almost as much as I admired myself.

Fr Rogers was a skillful surgeon of the soul, a master of the art. After I ended my confession, as part of his “penance, counsel and absolution,” he asked (with no tone of admiration), “Do you give alms, Greg?”

“Huh?” Alms, of course I do, I thought. Didn’t I mention I was a tither? Didn’t he hear that part? “Yes, father.”

“I know you tithe: you just told me so. But do you give alms? What do you do to combat your greed and stimulate charity?”

I didn’t say anything, as I recall. I was embarrassed: I didn't know what he was talking about. Further, I realized I’d been boasting during confession, which turns out not to be a very good idea. Fr Rogers then began his surgery on me—and that part I’ll keep to myself.

To tithe is to give to God a just portion of what He gives us. I’ve tithed on my income since before I was ordained. I don’t think a priest can call on his people to tithe if he’s not doing so himself. It’s part of our duty, like going to Mass on Sundays and helping old ladies across the street. It should be just as habitual. But almsgiving—that’s what separates the men from the boys. That’s where I so often fail.

If you listen to television clergymen, their mouths are full of promises, mostly the same ones. If you give them some of your money, God will reward you tenfold, twentyfold or an hundredfold. “Gimme some and you’ll get a lot more, beloved! It says so in the Bible! It’s the Divine Plan of Prosperity!”

They already have their reward.

Here’s the truth: if you give your money away, you’ll have less money than you did before you gave it. When the Lord promises your bread-basket will be filled to running over when you give, He’s not saying “Give the clergy $10 and you’ll get back $100!” God is not Santa Claus, nor is He a slot machine. You will receive, but not in “miracle dollars.” You’ll receive in the gradual, steady, abundant maturing of soul that comes from a disciple of Jesus, Who, you may recall, became poor for our sake.

One of the three “pillars” of Lent is almsgiving. Not tithing, not doing your duty, but giving of what you have left after that. The Lenten combat we’re called to is a struggle with greed and selfishness. Lent calls us to some unwelcome facts about ourselves: in the funeral service (there’s death again!), as we’re carried to the grave, the priest says “We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out….Blessed be the Name of the Lord.”

Despite what you may have heard, God doesn’t care about your bank account. He doesn’t care if you are prosperous, unless, like old Marley’s Ghost, that blinds you to the need of others. Lent comes along and puts that to the test. Then, remember the words of the Lord Jesus: “the measuring-cup you use to give, is the same one that will be used to decide what you get.”

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