Christmas: sacrifice, not gluttony

by CHRISTOPHER J. BACHLER

Christmas. At no other time of the year do we think so much about giving. Does that mean that generosity should be confined to one special day of the year? And what does "giving" mean? Is it best exemplified by an annual ritual of exchanging presents? Is that what Christmas is all about? Is that what giving is all about?

The spirit of giving endures. But it's also in decline. Consider the trouble that some major charities have in raising money. What's the problem? To some extent, changing public mores. The spiritual poison of materialism is nearly a national obsession, leaving less for philanthropy than ever before.

To a greater extent, oppressive taxation leaves us less to give and less reason to do so. In part, we assume that government is addressing every need. But we are also hard-pressed to sympathize with those whose "entitlement" sentiment presumes the primacy of taker over giver. How can brotherly love thrive in an atmosphere of such petty selfishness?

Perhaps the problem stems from a misunderstanding about what true giving really means. Giving is inspired by a personal desire to help another person. You are more concerned about that person's wellbeing than you are about your own bank balance. Giving no thought to personal rewards -- either in this world or in the next -- your desire to help is a reflexive act of love in which you place the wellbeing of that other individual before your own.

No civilization could have taken root without the giving spirit. In its absence, who would fight our wars, patrol our streets, build our skyscrapers, battle our fires or even raise our children? Great cultures are the culmination of an endless chain of great deeds.

Giving is an act of personal sacrifice; you give of yourself, not of someone else. There is no virtue in robbing Peter to pay Paul. It is remarkable how many people are generous with other people's money, and how many extol the virtues of giving while they, by strange coincidence, are on the receiving end of the proposition.

Dropping spare change in the collection plate or passing old clothing on to the needy may be a small kindness. But it is no real sacrifice, for to give away what we do not need is merely to give away our trash. True giving is giving when it hurts to give. It is the voluntary assumption of a burden that may be too great for someone else to bear. It is evident in the poor mother who gives up a meal so her child may eat, or in the valiant soldier who gives his life for family, friend or country: "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13) True giving is not so much measured by the size of the gift as by the size of the sacrifice. The billionaire who donates $50 million to a favorite cause may inspire more awe on earth than in heaven. But while the gift may be sizable, the comparative sacrifice is small. Truly, the poor woman who gives her last two dollars in the world gives much more.

Giving is not the sole prerogative of the wealthy. People may give through service what they cannot give in cash. One might raise funds for charity, tutor the illiterate or help those who can barely help themselves. Giving may even be expressed through such simple acts of kindness as holding a door or allowing a fellow motorist to enter the highway. It is no great sacrifice for the wealthy to part with some money. But the sacrifice of time and effort and sweat is a genuine gift of the soul.

Finally, giving should be constructive, focusing not merely on need but also on merit. Caring for the helpless orphan is one thing. Carrying swelling numbers of professional mendicants whose "luck" never seems to change is something else. The permanent charity case is hindered from becoming all that he is meant to be.

Life should be an adventure in self-discovery, an opportunity to grow in wisdom and character by facing and overcoming personal challenges. "Above all else, know thyself," Socrates admonished his students, long before Shakespeare's Hamlet completed the sentiment by adding: "... and to thine own self be true!" That is difficult  to accomplish when "good intentions," being sometimes oblivious to reason, stand in the way. Good judgment is much kinder than good intentions.

Christmas should not be a time of frantic hustle and bustle. Nor should it be a time of self-indulging culinary and material gluttony. Rather, it should be a time to reflect on those ways by which we best nourish the soul and on the remarkable example of a humble carpenter, born 2,000 years ago, who changed the world more profoundly than any man who's ever lived. Christmas should also be a time to remember that, better than material beings, we are spiritual beings with the innate power to transcend the weaknesses of the flesh and the vanity of material trappings. We are noble souls who are fulfilled only through the virtue of self-sacrifice.