Long ago, when I was in college, I had a professor who was raised in Taiwan. After finishing her doctorate in Missouri, she stayed in America. I don’t remember much about the class. However, I do remember her talking about paying taxes. She said that for many years she was amazed that all she had to do was give part of her paycheck to our government, and for that she got great roads, nice police, good schools, and host of other things that made life better—not just for her, but for everyone. “Best deal in the world,” she said. She then told us that as the years dragged on, she felt like she wanted to give less and less for the same things, to the point where she disliked paying taxes very much. She said, “I guess now I have become a real American.”
The years can have a way of making people jaded and less generous. Our faith is no exception. When we first arrived on the shores of the gospel, we were so excited to be part of a church, to be part of helping others around us, and to be happy supporting the work of God in any and every country around the world. Our time, our talent, and our treasure were a gift we gave gladly. Truly, it felt like a privilege to give. Over time it became harder to see the blessings, but easier to see the faults. Our ministry was imperfect, our pastor wasn’t magnificent, some of the people we helped didn’t deserve it, and those in far away places were, well, far away. Our idealism met realism and giving became less joyful—then an obligation—and finally, a burden.
It seems to me that we have a 1) a perception problem; and 2) a spiritual problem. First, our perception at first that everything was perfectly wonderful was not entirely true. However, our perception that everything is horribly wrong isn’t true either. Being completely naïve doesn’t help us any more than being wholeheartedly cynical. It is up to us to be mature enough to see the promised land and then work on the problems that keep us from getting there. This is much harder these days when our society has massed itself around black and white thinking, rather than deciding to understand a problem before judging it—and the people who believe it. Standing strong and seeing the whole landscape is, in itself, a witness to a world that thinks like a nine-year-old.
Secondly, it is a spiritual problem because investing ourselves in the gospel is sometimes a joy, sometimes a boring habit, and sometimes no fun. We call giving a “spiritual discipline” for a reason. We keep doing it because it is teaching us, growing us, and bringing us closer to God—while at the same time helping God come closer to others through our ministry. Jesus, if anything, was a giver. Lent reminds us that giving sometimes ends in miracles and sometimes ends in death. Yet we can celebrate both. Resurrection is the sign that great giving brings the power of God (miracles) and brings us to the throne of God (death and new life). It makes us like Christ and in union with God. Nothing could be more spiritual than that.
Here is hoping that everyone gets a refund from Uncle Sam this year. If not, hang in there. Remember this, though. Every gift to the world and will of God can always be used, and will be. There are no refunds, but boy oh boy, there sure are rewards—for us, and for children of God everywhere. That thought is not taxing, for sure.
