Practicing Extravagant Generosity. Robert Schnase

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СКАЧАТЬ to see cultivated in my children. The opposite of generosity is selfishness, self-centeredness, greed, and self-absorption. No stories from Scripture tell of people living the God-related spiritual life while fostering a greedy attitude. Generosity extends beyond merely the use of money, although it most definitely includes that. There are generous spirits; generous souls; people who are generous with their time, with their teaching, with their love. Generosity finds many biblical sources, and is a fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23). It sounds more organic, more generative, less legalistic, less formal than stewardship. I have to explain to my teenage sons what stewardship means. They know generosity when they see it.

      I admire and respect people who are generous, and I want to become like them. Generosity is not a spiritual attribute someone acquires apart from the actual practice of giving. It becomes discernable through action. We never describe people as generous who keep everything for themselves and only serve themselves.

      Generosity focuses on the spiritual qualities of the giver, derived from the generosity of God, rather than on the church's need for money. One of these terms is not superior to the other. Perhaps there are shades of differences in how they are perceived by young and old, those new to the faith from those long-established in our churches. Using both wisely helps us reach people at different places on the journey of faith.

       What has been your experience with the term "stewardship"? With "generosity"? What's the difference between them?

       Which most helpfully inspires your giving as you seek to grow in the image of God and in service to Christ?

       Tuesday

      BUILDING NESTS

       "And the things you have prepared,

       whose will they be?"

       — Luke 12: 20

      One March morning, I saw a large Red-Tailed Hawk fly overhead carrying a long heavy stick. I smiled at this indisputable sign of spring. Non-migratory birds of my area were beginning to build nests. Earlier I had seen an American Crow carrying straw for the same purpose, and the day before I had watched House Sparrows tucking threads of grass into the hole in a convenience store awning.

      During the months to come, birds of all kinds would pour extraordinary effort, time, and ingenuity to the construction of nests, the protection of eggs, and the feeding of their vulnerable young ones. After the little ones hatch, I'm always amazed at the unceasing care offered by the parents. Every ounce of the adults' energy is devoted, not to their own comfort and feeding, but to the survival of their young.

      The notion of building nests is often used as a metaphor to describe people successfully providing for their own comforts. If someone arrives at a career position of some ease and security, friends say, "You've built yourself quite a nest for yourself here!" When we are comfortable, secure, and feel at home in our workplace or living area, we talk about the space being "our own little nest." The word nest often connotes shelter, coziness, homelike, comfortable.

      In actual fact, the nests which birds build are not for the birds who build them, but for their young, for the next generation, for the future of the species. The hours of carrying straw, sticks, and mud; the days of defensive watchfulness; and the weeks of endless feeding are all for the benefit of the new ones, the young, the future.

      Now consider "nests" we build in our churches. The buildings, programs, ministries, job descriptions, and services we build—are they for our own comfort and coziness? Or are they to further the faith and provide for future generations? Does our giving serve us and our needs or serve God by serving the mission of the church to reach new people? Vibrant, fruitful congregations focus as much energy, prayer, and planning on those who are outside the congregation as they do on those who are already active in the congregation. When they initiate new Bible studies, outreach ministries, or worship services, they give less emphasis to "what do I want, prefer, or find convenient" and place more weight on "what will feed the souls, nourish the spirits, and sustain the steps" of those outside the church or new to the faith. Those new to the faith are as vulnerable as hatchlings, and require a steady and dedicated effort of feeding. And the budding faith of young people requires our committed attention; extra care; overtime in planning, teaching, encouraging, generosity, mentoring, and support. For those who practice Extravagant Generosity, the nests we build are not for ourselves—they are for the next generation, those new to the faith, the future of the body of Christ.

       What motivates you to support the ministries of your congregation?

       How does your focus on generosity and level of giving support the mission of reaching other people with the grace of God you have received?

       Wednesday

      SEEDS WITH WINGS

       "A sower went out to sow his seed . . ."

       — Luke 8:5

      As I was hiking with my sons one morning, we noticed a number of large trees dispersing their seeds in a most fascinating way. The seeds were pea-sized with a single leaf-like extension about the size and shape of a large dragonfly wing. Under the weight of the seedpod, the single angled wing would cause the seed to fall with the perfect twirling, rotating motion of a helicopter. The effect was like the "paper helicopters" some of us used to make in elementary school. The seeds whirled around us, slowly descending from the tall trees, and often getting caught up in the breeze to be carried far from the parent tree. It was a delightful sight.

      Jesus tells about a sower who goes out to sow, scattering seeds left and right, near and far. Some of the seeds fall on rocky paths, some are scooped up by hungry birds, and some are choked by weeds. But some find fertile soil, take root, and a harvest comes forth beyond what any of us can imagine. He tells the parable to remind us of the way our faithful efforts make a difference in the lives of others around us.

      Watching the "seeds with wings," as my son called them, added a new dimension to Jesus' parable of the seeds and soils. So much of our impact, even when we live immensely fruitful lives, affects those closest to us. We are like trees whose seeds fall directly to the ground beneath their own branches and under their own shade. We naturally have the greatest impact upon those closest at hand, our families, spouses, children, and grandchildren. We bear much fruit this way, but in a narrow and limited field. The branches of trees that drop their seeds directly beneath them protect their seedlings, filter sunlight for their good, and provide fallen leaves to nurture them. Among the most important seeds we sow are the grace and love of God we offer within our own families and among our own kindred. This is our calling.

      Each of us has another and larger calling as well, and that is to give our seeds wings so that the good we do and the difference we make extend beyond our sight and beyond our time.

      Each of us has been formed by the influences of countless people—friends, coworkers, mentors, teachers, coaches, neighbors, pastors, youth sponsors, scout leaders, colleagues, confidants—who have contributed far beyond their own small circles. Through their generosity, time, effort, and love, they have changed us, and changed the world, by intentionally providing a legacy that extends far and wide.

      I'm often amazed at the immeasurable difference people make with their lives far away from their homes and long after their deaths. In Honduras, I'll see a clinic started by a Sunday school class from a church in Oklahoma many years ago. In an African village, I'll see kids nestled under mosquito nets funded by youth from a church in Germany. In an СКАЧАТЬ