A sermon preached at Evensong on 18 August: Isaiah 28: 9-22; 2 Corinthians 8:1-9
The missionary Amy Carmichael once said: “We can give without loving, but we cannot love without giving”.
We can give without loving.
We cannot love without giving.
Amy’s words seemed to resonate with today’s readings; but I realised I knew nothing about her [something of Amy's story].
She had grown up in a wealthy Irish family in the 1860s. Her father owned a flour mill business. She benefitted from the best education money could buy; and enjoyed the finer things of life.
Such comfort and stability did not last. The business began to lose money and eventually closed. The stress and worry took its toll on her father, who became ill and died. Amy’s schooling came to an abrupt end and she spent a decade helping her mother take care of her younger siblings.
Such a shift in circumstances and status would’ve undoubtedly had an impact on the young Amy. Yet in biographies, it’s not the personal hardships that come to the fore.
Instead there are two stories which are told about her: one was when she and her mother were having tea and biscuits in a restaurant, a little girl had her nose pressed against the window; she was begging and without food. Amy promised that when she grew up she’d give her money to the poor.
The other story captures a moment as she returned home from church. She came across a poor elderly woman carrying a heavy bundle. Along with her two brothers, they helped her along and carried the bundle. In respectable Belfast, she noticed that she was noticed - the embarrassment and shame of association; the bad weather and the woman’s rags. She described the experience as ‘a horrid moment’; saying they hated doing it.
Just as she passed an ornate Victorian fountain, she heard the words: ‘Gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay stubble — every man’s work will be made manifest; and the fire shall try every man’s work of what sort it is. If any man’s work abide…”
Having looked around to see who had spoken, she saw only the people looking on at them. Amy was stuck by an intense conviction that this was God’s voice. She shut herself away in her room and the young woman who had an eye for beauty decided to change her priorities.
Her service and witness began with work amongst the millworkers in Belfast and ultimately she became a missionary in India: setting up orphanages to rescue children from temple prostitution. This single, childless woman became known as Amma, mother, by many. When asked by an aspiring missionary what the life was like, Amy wrote back saying ‘missionary life is a chance to die’.
May of us will be able recount decisive moments or encounters which change the direction of our lives. Some of us might narrate that (often with hindsight) as a sense of calling or vocation. Few of us end up serving with an overseas mission. Yet all of us have a commitment to use the resources entrusted to us for the good of others, not just our own comfort.
According to the Charities Aid Foundation, there are four key reasons why people give: personal values a sense of morals or ethics; belief in a specific cause; faith or religious belief; and finally personal experience.
Those reasons certainly echo with Amy’s life - and perhaps they resonate with us too.
We may feel that there is moral obligation or duty to give back to society; to use what income we have to reduce inequalities elsewhere. Sometimes there is a specific cause close to our hearts - whether that’s a passion for the arts or a commitment to oversees development.
Within CAF’s secular survey, 71% of those interviewed were able to articulate belief, religious practice or spiritual values as a motivation for their giving. In addition, as in Amy life, there are personal experiences which trigger giving.
When Paul writes to the Corinthians, he is wanting to encourage them to grow into mature and obedient givers. He is nurturing a sustained attitude that connects the gift with relationships. As Amy puts it, it is possible to give without love - because there’s an urgent demand or compulsion. Yet when our lives are rooted and grounded in love, giving is a natural response.
Paul’s reflections on the generosity of the church in Macedonia describes this as being about an act of grace. By doing so, he is changing the way we think about money. To give out love, to give in relationship, is to participate in an economy of gift rather than exchange. It is a sharing in the economy of a gracious and generous and self-giving God.
Recently, Lloyds Bank ran an advert called the M-word. We hear snippets of conversation such as ‘No, we haven’t talked about it openly’ or ‘I prefer to keep it private’ and ‘it’s a touchy subject’. Finally the voiceover says, ‘it’s good to talk about money’.
Paul would have agreed. Over the coming months, we will have to talk about the M-word: about budgets and priorities, planned giving and the common fund. We don’t give in a vacuum. God’s gracious giving is part of the motivation; but identifying the need is the context.
Thinking about money and generosity is challenging at the best of times; but perhaps even more so at present when the Sunday papers are full of fear, suspicion and interpretations of the Brexit narrative. Isaiah roundly attacks the leaders of Israel and Judah for the way in which they’ve misled their people with lies and falsehood and by making treaties with death. Instead he reminds them that their security lies with God.
Paul also trusted in God; but also knew that divine generosity had to take human and practical form. When Jewish converts in Jerusalem find themselves cut off from families or at risk of losing their jobs, Paul sets up a relief fund. Love and generosity take on a systematic form.
Let’s pray for clarity of vision and priorities; for generosity in response to need.
We can give without loving.
We cannot love without giving.
© Julie Gittoes 2019
