As a kid, my dad would give my sisters and me a $5 allowance each week. He wanted us to learn how to use and be responsible for a small amount of money before there were real consequences attached to our decisions. I learned from
my dad the value of money—how to think carefully before spending it on Pokémon cards, how to save it by turning out all the lights and leaving the heat at 60 in the winter, picking up every penny, nickel, or dime in the parking lot, and how to give a portion of it back to God in worship as a tithe to the church. I learned how to be financially literate, practical, and frugal, for which I am grateful.
But when I think about the generosity of my parents, I do not immediately jump to stories of money, but of time. I saw my dad cut our neighbor's grass whenever he did our own because he knew it was difficult for her. He would stop to check on people when their cars broke down and stay late at church to clean up trash that he saw. I did not see or understand my parents' financial generosity until later in life, but early on I saw in how they lived a pattern of generous service that I hope informs my own choices.
We are two weeks into our Growing Generosity series and each week in the worship notes of our bulletin we are asked the questions: How might you define generosity? Who first showed it to you or taught you about it? What does generosity look like in your life? Often, generosity becomes a conversation about money—how much do you give? But really generosity is about a way of living in which our lives and resources are available for the good of those around us. However we approach generosity, it is a reflection of the people we have shared life with, of the stories that stick with us and shape us.
As we mentioned in our sermon this week and as our $90,000 budget deficit will attest, we need financial generosity to survive as a church and bear witness in this community for years to come. But this Sunday, we will remember the people who have embodied generosity in their lives and now live with Christ. All Saints Day is always a sacred Sunday. It is bittersweet with the absence of loved ones and the irrefutable knowledge that our lives are better because of their faithful examples. This week, whether you have recently lost a loved one or not, I invite you to consider these questions from our bulletin again and give thanks to God for those stories and people that spring to mind. Give thanks and live generously. It makes a difference.