This spring, I decided to start over with my hydroponic AeroGarden and grow cilantro and dill. I bought new pods without seeds in them yet, and dropped a cilantro seed in one pod. And then I waited.
I changed out the water. I added plant food. But no green sprout ever popped up. My mother tried planting cilantro in hers as well, and said that her cilantro never sprouted, so eventually I gave up and threw out the pod and the dead seeds.
But two months ago, my mom had an update. After planting 3 seed pods with cilantro seeds, she actually had a sprout. Only one plant had grown, but now she has an abundance of cilantro. She had to plant multiple seeds to have an abundant harvest. You farmers and gardeners understand this idea, I think: you have to sow generously to reap abundantly.
Maybe that’s why Jesus parable of the sower and the seed has the sower sow generously everywhere: on the rocky path, among the weeds, as well as on the good soil. When we’re generous with what we sow, we can reap an abundant harvest.
Not that this is an easy thing to do. It’s so tempting to hold on to what we have instead of trusting Paul’s words: “Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously.” But when we can see the abundance of God, when we can see God is at work in our lives and trust God’s hand, we are more able to trust that things will be ok. In Matthew 6 and Luke 12, Jesus tells us not to worry. That if God provides food for the birds and clothes the wildflowers, then God will take care of us as well. We can trust that “God is able to bless [us] abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that [we] need, [we] will abound in every good work.”
We have the opportunity to give out of a sense of joy, knowing that we are making a difference. I was thinking about the joy of giving this week, and I came across a story by Dan Clark from Second Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul. Dan writes:
Once when I was a teenager, my father and I were standing in line to buy tickets for the circus. Finally, there was only one other family between us and the ticket counter.…
There were eight children, all probably under the age of 12. The way they were dressed, you could tell they didn’t have a lot of money, but their clothes were neat and clean. The children were well-behaved, all of them standing in line…. They were excitedly jabbering about the clowns, animals, and all the acts they would be seeing that night. By their excitement, you could sense they had never been to the circus before. It would be a highlight of their lives.
The father and mother were at the head of the pack standing proud as could be. … The ticket lady asked the man how many tickets he wanted. He proudly responded, “I’d like to buy eight children’s tickets and two adult tickets, so I can take my family to the circus.” The ticket lady stated the price.
The man’s wife let go of his hand, her head dropped, the man’s lip began to quiver. Then he leaned a little closer and asked, “How much did you say?” The ticket lady again stated the price. The man didn’t have enough money. How was he supposed to turn and tell his eight kids that he didn’t have enough money to take them to the circus?
Seeing what was going on, my dad reached into his pocket, pulled out a $20 bill, and then dropped it on the ground. (We were not wealthy in any sense of the word!) My father bent down, picked up the $20 bill, tapped the man on the shoulder and said, “Excuse me, sir, this fell out of your pocket.”
The man understood what was going on. He wasn’t begging for a handout but certainly appreciated the help …. He looked straight into my dad’s eyes, took my dad’s hand in both of his, squeezed tightly onto the $20 bill, and with his lip quivering and a tear streaming down his cheek, he replied; “Thank you, thank you, sir. This really means a lot to me and my family.”
My father and I went back to our car and drove home. The $20 that my dad gave away is what we were going to buy our own tickets with. Although we didn’t get to see the circus that night, we both felt a joy inside us that was far greater than seeing the circus could ever provide. That day, I learned the value of giving.
Often when we can see what our gifts are doing for those around us, and how our gifts impact others, then we experience that joy. In college and seminary, I didn’t have much spending money. So, I made gifts. I had learned to make books, and would spend hours putting them together for people: I made a journal for a Videogame fan using old brown jeans and I beaded an 8-bit style Mario to include on the cover. I knit a scarf for my husband using the logo from his favorite video game. And I was always excited to make these items because I poured myself into them and thought about what the recipient liked.
This is the joy of giving. Giving includes our time, our talents, our resources, and our influence. All of these are ways to be generous, and all of these are areas where we can give meaningfully. I give my time to the Presbytery of West Virginia as I serve on committees because I believe in the connection we have as Presbyterians. I give to the church because I know what our church is doing, and I know that our gifts can go to doing God’s work in the community.
So let us give cheerfully and generously, in a way that is personally significant, so that we can see all that God can do with our gifts, and how God continues to bless. Thanks be to God. Amen.
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