Humbled by Generosity

For 20 years, directly or indirectly, I oversaw the finances of a large church.  When I first started, the budget was just under a million dollars. By the end of my time in the position, the budget had at times climbed as high as 2.4 million.  I do not have the exact figure, but over the 20 years that I served at that church, it received 27-30 million dollars in general fund giving.  Add to this figure $4 million raised for a building, another few hundred thousand collected for various other facilities repairs, hundreds of thousands of dollars for missions and you have quite a  bit of money collected.  The congregation of the church is made up of very generous people.

When it came to general fund giving, I could tell you the giving patterns which would show up each year.  I could estimate very closely what percentage of giving would come from the top 20% of givers.  I knew when we would be behind for the year and by how much.  I knew when we were likely to catch up.  I knew when it looked bad but was not, and when it looked bad and we had to worry.  I have not seen the numbers from the church in over a year, but I bet I could write a number on a piece of paper and it would be pretty close to where its finances are at this point in the year.

The one thing I never knew was who gave what.  I never knew who the big givers were, and I never knew who did not give a thing.  This was not just a policy; it was very intentional on my part.  I did not want my ability to love and serve the individuals who made up the congregation to ever be influenced by what someone did or did not give. People are to be loved and served because they bear the image of God, not because of the resources they have and share.   If I ever work in a church again I will do it just the same.

You can imagine, given my experience and this tightly held principle, how hard it was for me when I recently launched a project on Kickstarter and found out I would be receiving updates on who gave, and what they gave.  This was necessary because the rewards offered for giving to the project were different based upon the amount pledged.   This fact did not change, however, how uncomfortable it was in the beginning for a man who had spent the last 20 years avoiding this kind of information at all costs.

That feeling was quickly replaced with another as the pledges began to come in.  The uncomfortableness of the process was soon replaced with a great humility.

It began the morning of the launch, I was with my best friend and I told him I had started the Kickstarter.  He immediately pulled out his smart phone in order to insure he was the first to sponsor me.  I think he was more excited than I was.  It was a gift to see some so eager to support you and to see joy on their face at having done it. 

While driving home from our breakfast, my phone dinged with a notification of the second person to back my project.  It was someone who has not been blessed with an abundance of resources, and yet they chose to support this endeavor.  The widow who gave her last mite would not have moved me any more than this act of kindness.  I wept as I drove home and could barely tell my wife why when I got there.  I would find more then one backer that fit the description of not allowing their circumstance to determine their generosity.

I had two couples, who had one of the spouses recently laid off, pledge a gift. At a time when they are probably wondering what their finances will look like in a few months, they chose to demonstrate generosity.  This was not just the committing of some funds to a project, it was a deeply spiritual act of blessing and trust in God.

I would have thought the people I know best would have given the most, and certainly many of them did.  I was surprised, however, to see people who share a passion for seeing people transformed into Christ's image, but who I do not know as well, give so generously.  They made pledges beyond what I would have ever dared to imagine.  Several times during this process I had to catch my breath as I opened an email containing the news of generosity beyond my expectation. 

I had young adults who we used to take to children’s camp join the team.  I served them when they were growing up, I served alongside them when they were in high school and college, and now I found myself in a position to be served by them.  To experience our life together coming full circle was a great grace.

Of course, my closest family got behind me, but there is something which touches the deepest parts of your soul when your parents, children and wife are all in when it comes to belief and support.  

My heart was also moved by the people I never met who wanted to be part of this project.  To have a complete stranger back you is powerful.  I was also touched by the people who chose to support who I have long known but have not lived much life with in decades, and by the many good friends who not only supported the Kickstarter, but were also excited to see it get closer and closer to the finish line.  I had people share with me they were getting on the site multiple times a day to see where we were.  I celebrate with them the fact we are fully funded!

Then there were those who chose to give even after we had reached our goal.  They were not giving so we would hit our target; they gave because they wanted to be part of what we were doing.  Actually, it is probably more accurate to say they gave simply because, in various ways, we are part of one another.  It is a privilege to know these kinds of people.

The journey I will write about began two years ago when I was demoted. I met with my son to let him know what was going on before he heard it from someone else.  I told him I had to choose to either take the new position I was being offered, or quit.  For reasons which are not important to share, my son encouraged me to quit.  He was not simply reacting; his reasoning had some wisdom and in the end proved to be correct.  Growing up in a ministry family there are certain things you just come to know in your gut.

After listening to him and considering his advice, I pulled out the book of Philippians and read chapter two out loud.  It commands us to have the same attitude as Christ, who was willing to humble himself.  I asked my son, “What if the decision before me was not whether to stay in a job or not, but was I willing to enter the school of humility or not? What if this would all be used by God to help me develop the attitude of Christ?’  To grow in humility, I reasoned, means sometimes you must be willing to be humiliated.  I did not want to run if this is what God was doing.  After some prayer, and a few days to be sure I was not simply reacting, I chose to stay.

This past month, as I have watched the support for my project roll in from friends, family and people I do not even know, I have learned another way in which humility can be grown in you.  The school of humility also includes the experience of being the recipient of the kindness and generosity of others.  I have been humbled by the love my  supporters of my project have shown me.  I have been humbled by their willingness to get behind this creative project and believe in what will be birthed through it.  I have been humbled by their belief in me.  I have been humbled by their willingness to sacrifice on my behalf, and give beyond expectation.  I have been humbled by their excitement and joy in the project. I have seen much humility in the people who have partnered with me, and it has been used by God to grow humility in me.

I am blessed and humbled to be surrounded by such gracious and generous people. Each and every one of them is a teacher and gift to me.