Cultivating a Generous Spirit
Lay Speaker Carole Larsen
August 20, 2006

My daughter-in-law believes in reincarnation. Furthermore, she believes that we souls choose to be born back into human bodies to learn some soul-enhancing lesson-- sometimes over and over again, depending on how well we learn.

In her construct, the soul does not bring with it the knowledge of what the lesson is.

Now I am reserving judgment about whether or not I believe any of that. But it interests me to ask myself: What soul-enhancing lesson could I be here to learn? Over time, it occurs to me that the lesson is Generosity.

Now, by generosity, I do not mean the narrower concept of giving alms or money. That is Charity—also a virtue. No, what I want to explore, and ultimately learn how to cultivate, is a state of being open to how I can help: my neighbor, my friends, the community, the situation. It may or may not involve money. Expressing generosity is more than doing things; it is finding something in ourselves that longs to be expressed—our desire to connect and make a difference. The more I read about it, and try to practice it, the harder it seems to be. Apparently, I am not a slow learner—just a resistant one!

But I think I am right about the subject. When I read about generosity, when I see it practiced, it hooks my emotions—a sure giveaway that this is something that really matters to me.

My first step in writing this sermon was to read books on the subject. Rambam’s Ladder, by Julie Salamon, The Generosity Factor by Ken Blanchard and S. Truett Cathy, ( He is the founder and CEO of Chick Fil A restaurants), The Power of Generosity by Dave Toycen, (he is CEO of World Vision in Canada), and Radical Hospitality by Father Daniel Homan and Lonni Collins Pratt. I discovered that this is a pop culture subject—most of the books offered were not listed under religion, although these certainly treated generosity as a religious practice.

Here is what I learned:

Charity is different from Generosity.

Generosity must be grounded in something. It is commonly grounded in a religious faith, but could be grounded in what your parents taught you, or your own experience over the years.

Many religious traditions have said much about developing a generous spirit, and have made the distinction between Charity and Generosity. The focus is on the free will nature of the gift, which contrasts with the duty-like quality of charity. In Western civilization, generosity has strong roots in the biblical concept of a Creator who offers life to humankind as a gift…. Generosity is part of the foundation for justice and tolerance in Western civilization.

In Islam, the faithful believer practices “sadaqh”, which usually means voluntary almsgiving to support the poor in the community. However, it can refer to any act of kindness toward another person, or even animals. The emphasis is on giving freely, which contrasts with the mandated “zakat”, a welfare religious tax required of believers.

In Buddhism, there is an emphasis on doing the most compassionate thing. The intention is as important as the act of giving. Being generous out of a desire to gain public admiration will hinder spiritual growth. The priority is to practice compassion without a desire for recognition or applause.

We Unitarian Universalists believe that there is an inherent worth and dignity in all people. We affirm and promote justice, equity and compassion in human relations. We affirm and promote acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth. This is our foundation to practice generosity of spirit.

We are generous because we are human, and we all want to be connected.

Julie Salamon tells the Bowery Residents’ story.

The Bowery Resident’s Committee operates a crisis center. Ronald Williams is program director. The BRC offers services to homeless people, many of whom are mentally ill, many of whom rely heavily on drugs and alcohol. On a regular day at the crisis center some people are in detox programs, others are deciding whether they want treatment, others are moving from detox into other BRC programs. Some people just drop in for a shower and a safe bed for the night.

Early morning is an especially busy time, when people are being admitted and discharged. For some reason, Tuesday mornings are especially busy and September 11, 2001, was a Tuesday morning. The crisis center is a mile north of New York’s downtown financial district.

One of his homeless clients came running up from Prince Street where he usually hangs out, a couple of blocks from the crisis center. “Mr. Williams, I think something is wrong.” The man was in his late fifties, mentally ill and often disoriented. Williams brought the man inside to the main room, where the television was on. Listening but not comprehending, staff and clients froze into silence.

Soon enough the streets began to fill with groups of people coming up from lower Manhattan, walking fast. The first group looked as normal as terrified people can look. The next batch was covered in debris, and some also in blood.

What followed surprised Williams, who thought he was beyond surprise. “My clients, people who were homeless, people at the lower end of society, were making suggestions to the staff. We put chairs outside, we had a hose attached to a faucet, a nurse came out with what first aid we could muster. When people started coming by, covered in stuff, we hosed them off. A lot of people just wanted to sit down and get a drink of water. My clients were the ones doing this. They were out offering water, offering help. The clients just pitched in as if they were staff. They were sad because of what was going on, but they were glad to be part of something, to be doing something. They were there.”

Were the BRC clients responding to brain signals instructing them to help? Are we wired to cooperate? The New York Times has reported that we possibly might be. In an article about scientists who studied neural activity, Natalie Angier wrote: “Hard as it may be to believe, in these days of infectious greed and sabers unsheathed, scientists have discovered that the small, brave act of cooperating with another person, of choosing trust over cynicism, generosity over selfishness, makes the brain light up with quiet joy.”

The homeless people on Lafayette Street found themselves, through their generosity, part of the community that day. Usually ignored or avoided, or recipients of aid, they had been invited, through disruption of the normal order, to participate in the human exchange, as equals. They had, momentarily, dropped the anonymity imposed on them by circumstance and been noticed for their good work. One woman they helped later returned to the center with a tray of cookies she’d baked, not out of pity but in thanks. Gifts had arrived before, but dispensed as charity, not in return for a favor, and that distinction was huge.

Is that what generosity of spirit can be, then, a way of involving ourselves in the process of being alive---or, borrowing Angier’s expression, of making our brains light up with quiet joy?

Generosity feels good. Generosity isn’t offered on the basis of results. Offering help is more about doing it than planning it. Human nature is set in its ways, so don’t think you will see change right away or ever. Still, even failing feels pretty good. Helping another human being is good.

Generosity is about a relationship, no matter how brief, with another person, or creature.

Generosity is as much about the giver as it is about the receiver.

I learned that it is a distraction if you cannot back away from judgement -- judgement of others, and of yourself. Dave Toycen, the Canadian CEO of World Vision, tells this story.

I was at a check-out counter at the local supermarket and I noticed a boy about ten standing next to the woman who was operating the cash register. He had a tag on his shirt indicating that he was helping his mother. As she passed the items across the scanner he packed them in the shopping bag. It was a great moment because of his transparent satisfaction in helping his mother. There was a smile on his face that was matched by her look of affection.

In the midst of my shopping, I was taken by this little episode. Without thinking much, I reached into my pocket and fished out a dollar coin. Catching the lad’s attention I leaned toward him and said, “Any young man who helps his mother like you are doing deserves something special. Here’s a dollar—have a soda pop on me at your next break.” He hesitated for a moment, looked up at his mother and then accepted the coin. This whole episode took about two minutes.

Generosity begins with someone taking a risk, making a gesture. It starts with one person. Yet it’s far more complicated than simply what I choose to do. The recipient is part of the exchange as well. This boy took my gesture well. He was encouraged and in fact gave me a big smile. His mother did too. But it wasn’t over.

Seconds later, the woman behind me in line said, “What did you do that for? Now he’ll expect something from all of us!” My balloon was deflated, and my first reaction was to snap back at her small-mindedness. Fortunately, I maintained control of myself and simply let the situation pass. In fact, the woman’s comment was a judgment on her. Only later did I realize that generosity has not only an initiating person and a respondent, but also a secondary public that observes and in some way participates.

At some point we have to take the chance to demonstrate acts of caring and sharing. We can’t wait until we are certain that everything is right. Some people are very sensitive to what others might think, and will find it too risky to offer a gesture that can be refused, ignored or misinterpreted. Some people are shy by nature, others find it difficult to read relational situations quickly, while still others see the glass half empty rather than half full. These and any number of personality traits can affect our ability to reach out in acts of generosity. These are all reasons that make generosity a little harder, but they only become excuses when we refuse to overcome them.

This leads me to conclude that one must be open to receiving, so that others may be generous.

I find this lesson very difficult. Of course I like people doing nice things for me, and listening to me when I need a listener, and helping out when I need a helping hand. But would I ask for it? Nnnnno. I might be a bother. They might not have the time and will feel obligated to give up something they would prefer to do. Or, I can manage.

Our times, and our society, in the United States particularly, places such heavy value on independence and self-sufficiency, that it works against our instinct for generosity.

The next time I am annoyed (or frightened) by generosity coming at me, I need to consider that my practice of generosity may be the gracious receiving of the generosity of others.

The books say that in the learning and the doing, you will come to know yourself, which can be a difficult journey. Generosity takes you places you don’t want to go. I wonder if that is why I find it so hard to practice?

Radical Hospitality is a book about the Benedictine way, and a particular Benedictine monastery located in Oxford, Michigan.

The Catholic Saint, Benedict, believed that if you want to be a person of great spirit, you can’t do life alone. If spirituality matters to you, you can’t do spirituality alone either. To really grow as a human being you need other people. The Benedictine emphasis on hospitality is about mutual reverence. Every man, woman and child bears to us the presence of God. We grow through encounters with others. By associating only with people who are like us, our knowledge and view of God is narrow. It is only by welcoming the stranger, that our experience of God can grow.

Who is the stranger? Anyone who is different from us. And everyone IS different from us. Especially those marginalized by society—the poor, the mentally ill, the very young and the very old, people of different ethnic origin. The stranger may be no more strange than a colleague or an acquaintance who drops his defensive front in a moment of vulnerability.

The Benedictines say that a key practice of hospitality is acceptance. By accepting someone, we do what seems to be a small, ordinary thing. A friendly conversation with a stranger at the bus stop can be the embodiment of hospitality. When we accept, we take an open stance to the other person. It is more than merely piously tolerating them. We stand in the same space and we appreciate who they are, right now at this moment, and affirm the Sacred in them.

Opening ourselves to the stranger is not equivalent to leaving our door unlocked and bringing strangers into our home. Hospitality does not mean you ignore obvious threats to personal safety. Hospitality means bringing strangers into your heart. When I let a stranger into my heart, I let a new possibility approach me. When I reach past my own ideas, I begin to stretch myself open to the world, and this opening could change everything. That’s pretty frightening stuff. You can never be the same if you start doing that kind of thing.

The monks practice a balance between Contemplation, Community, and Hospitality. They have built a retreat center for teenagers and others who want to share their life for a while. They have to constantly challenge themselves to make room in their hearts for the strangers. The strangers are noisy, intrusive, and interrupt the monk’s preferred pattern of life, out of ignorance or need. Still, the monks believe that these strangers are bringing God to them. They do not give up the other two components of their life, however. They know that contemplation feeds the soul. Even generosity cannot run on empty. Their life in community is like living in a family, with all of its issues. They give physical and emotional space to the stranger, but not more than they have to give.
(That’s a relief)

How do we cultivate a generous spirit?

• We sometimes get it from our parents. My father was a generous person to his extended family, and in his community. Sometimes that generosity came with strings. My mother was a spokesperson for the underdog, but her personality kept her generosity outside the home, directed to those who were safely distant and anonymous.

Just as some people from the same set of parents find it easier to ski or play music than their siblings do, some people seem to have an innate sense of justice.

Maybe you are one of the fortunate people who find hospitality easy. If so, you can probably look back to definite times you felt connected to others and well loved. If you have experienced abiding and strong relationships, hospitality comes more easily. For other people it will come harder.

• We learn it from Example—I am fortunate that I am married to a naturally generous person. I have a built in coach, although he doesn’t know he is!

There are many generous people to use as examples, and countless stories of generosity that inform and move us to action. This is why I wonder if being generous anonymously is not always a good thing. Someone else might draw encouragement from our action.

• We cultivate generosity by Practice. As with so many other skills, practice, practice, practice!

The books all give suggestions on how to cultivate a generous spirit:

Smile. What most people appreciate more than anything else is being noticed.

Practice gratitude, the books say. Look for chances to be an encourager. You can’t encourage someone unless you are willing to share some of your time and perspective.

Practice humility. “I am sorry” are three of the most powerful words in the English language. Use them liberally. They will change you and those around you more quickly than almost anything else.

Look for Opportunity. If you are having trouble thinking of how you can act generously, deliberately put yourself in situations where need and opportunity will be evident.

Finally, keep the right company. Find a group of people that shares your commitment and concern for others.

At last it dawns on me!
This is what I am doing here in this congregation!
I look at you all and see a room full of generous people.
You know all of this; I watch you practicing it time and again.

With your help, here is where I learn how to cultivate a generous spirit.