Cultivating An Abundant Spirit

Rev. Abhi Janamanchi

December 7, 2008

It's official, folks. The National Bureau of Economic Research announced last week that the US has been in a recession since last December, the longest since World War II. The National Bureau basically confirmed what many of us already knew in our bones and have been bearing the brunt of for the past year.

Since September, we have seen some disturbing and anxious developments. The bursting of the housing bubble has left average people facing foreclosures and dwindling home values. Reputable financial institutions have either gone belly-up or received huge infusions of capital. Credit markets across the world remain frozen. People have watched the value of their retirement savings and other investments plummet. Congress passed a 700 billion dollar bailout package and then started injecting money directly into banks including recently, Citigroup. Over the past 12 months, the number of unemployed persons has increased by 2.8 million to a total of 10.1 million of which 2.3 million have been jobless for 27 weeks or more. From January through November, over 1.5 million people have lost jobs.

The New York Stock Exchange has been on one of its worst roller coaster rides, mostly down, in the past75 years, and the market remains weak as jittery investors continue to sell off stocks. And the three major automakers - Ford, Chrysler, and GM – returned to Washington last week, by car this time, to seek $34 billion in aid. As I see all this unfolding, I wonder what else is in store for us in the months ahead.

Today, we live in a world where the gap between scarcity and abundance grows ever wider, breeding suspicion and resentment between haves and have-nots, and driving conflicts and choices that have the potential to destroy our planet. Perhaps even more poignant is the fact that we live in the midst of so much wealth in the form of safety, comfort and pleasure, and yet we as a nation nonetheless seem unfulfilled, insecure, and empty. Unitarian Universalist theologian, Thandeka speaks of the paradox of "middle-class poverty." She says, "They (the middle class) live in houses they can't afford, drive cars they don't own, and wear clothes they've bought on credit. Worse yet, toward the end of each pay period, many use their charge cards to buy food. ...This late 20th century phenomenon has crippled the American soul."^[1]

There's lot of fear and anxiety about what's going on around us and in the world these days. In particular, we are crippled by the fear of scarcity. When fear of scarcity takes hold, we tend to tighten up and hunker down. In our search for security, we pull inwards and steel ourselves for the storm ahead. This steeling of the self can induce a sort of paralysis.

All of this reminded me of a short story that a colleague of mine (the Rev. Scott Prinster) once shared -- "The Rocking Horse Winner" by D. H. Lawrence.^[2] It's about a family with deep financial anxiety. The anxiety becomes so chronic that it whispers through the very walls of their house, and even the children's playroom is permeated with the worry. Their young son Paul finds the ability to predict the winners of horse races while playing on his rocking-horse, but the money coming in does nothing to silence the refrain "There must be more money! There must be more money! More than ever!" The new furniture and new clothes cannot quiet the anxiety and the whispers. His parents' unquenchable thirst for more drives the boy to obsession, and then death, in his labor to satisfy it. It's a sobering thought that as easily as we can instill in our children a sense of hope and worth, we can also teach them a miserable sense of chronic scarcity.

Though there is a practical aspect to finances – home, work, church, or nation - there is also a subjective dimension to the question of whether we have enough. As straightforward as it is to calculate how much we need to survive from month to month, there is also a concern that is more a matter of the heart -- what it takes to make us feel that we have enough. The perception of scarcity or abundance is perhaps just as critical as the reality.

The trouble is, too many of us are caught up in the 'myth of scarcity,' a term used sometimes by professional fund raisers. It means that we believe there is never enough. Never enough stuff, never enough treasure, never enough time.

As the economic crisis unfolds, I am becoming more and more aware of how deeply entrenched a philosophy of scarcity is in the United States and how people like myself who came from cultures where not having enough was enough have bought into it. As my colleague Scott Prinster rightly points out, "By unconsciously adopting the metaphor of the marketplace in the various areas of our lives, we have accepted on a fundamental level that life is about competing for what is not enough to go around."^[3]

He says, "The consequences of this assumption are far-reaching. A philosophy of scarcity tells us that there's never enough, and so we must hang on to what little we have, protect it, perhaps even hoard more in case there will be a shortage. Even if we know that others are doing without, our most basic need becomes guaranteeing that we and ours have enough. Sharing generally becomes possible when we feel that we have more than enough, so the kind of social generosity that provides a safety net for the poor and vulnerable becomes nearly unthinkable in a worldview of scarcity. I think about my own tightfistedness when I was afraid there wouldn't be enough, and it's not difficult to imagine those feelings of scarcity multiplied by millions, and the consequences."

One of the most poisonous repercussions of a culture of scarcity is that we are conditioned to rationalize what we do have with language of entitlement. The United States is generally fond of thinking of our culture as a meritocracy, and this feeds into the reasoning that we are somehow entitled to cheap energy, a wide variety of affordable goods made in other countries, an every-thing-is–disposable-and-therefore-replaceable mindset, instant gratification, and non-stop entertainment. It also convinces us that what we have is ours because we deserve it -- 'we are the chosen ones'-- and others don't. Entitlement provokes a moral numbness and blinds us to the real possibilities around us and within us; it robs us of the intellectual and spiritual freedom that we prize so highly; it encourages us to look at everything in terms of its benefit to us; and it teaches us to be self interested and narcissistic.

I truly believe that the myth of scarcity is just that: a myth. Let me suggest to you that there is always enough. At least, there is always enough of what is really important. We don't need money or material goods to be generous. Friendship and warmth are more than enough. Time is more than enough. Hospitality is enough. Giving what you have is enough, even if it is only your heart that you have to give.

The holiday season is an opportunity to make use of our time, talent, and treasure. For some of us, it is the one time of year when we are truly generous. We may give our time to a worthy cause, or contribute our hard earned treasure to some charitable enterprise. We may demonstrate an exorbitance which is quite out of character.

On the other hand, some of us may resent the demands that are placed upon us at this season of the year. Perhaps we cannot afford to do all that we would like to do, or imagine that we are supposed to do. Some of us need to get away from the notion that only material gifts will do.

Often, it is enough simply to give our hearts. It is enough to be present to others. We can only give what we have and what we are. Usually that is more than enough, but strangely, some us don't even do that.

Another thing I have learned is that we have a lot more than we think we do. That's us: you and I. It all comes down to priorities. I can choose to use my time, talent, and treasure any way I want. We believe in free will, after all. The biblical parable of the widow's mite is instructive here. The idea is that one woman's penny is another's thousand dollar bill. Who is more generous: the woman who can only afford to give a single penny but gives it, or the one who could afford to give a thousand dollars and only gives a hundred?

There are people out there in our society who give absolutely nothing to anyone. No volunteering, no donations, no church pledge. They keep it all for themselves, materially and emotionally. Or they are merely takers. Luckily, they are not in the majority. But they don't know what they are missing.

I have seen enough of real poverty to know with certainty that we can all give something. It is within our means. Yes, it will cost us something but I think that the benefits of generosity far outweigh their costs, whether in terms of a friendly greeting or of a generous contribution to a worthy cause.

How can I convince you of this? I cannot. I can only tell you that if you give it a try, you may find generosity to be habit forming. Some of you already know this, and know it far better than I. Once you make it a priority to give, you will find that not only is there more than enough, but that it makes you feel good, too.

Giving "until it hurts" is only a figure of speech. It doesn't hurt to give: it feels good. The more you give, the better you feel. But don't take my word for it: give it a try.

Are there dangers in generosity? Yes and no. You may get tired. You may go broke. You may get cheated. You may have to prioritize, and reconsider your needs, and go without. But the rewards will always outweigh the risks. I am convinced of this.

It's about generosity, folks. And it needs to be said, generosity cannot be just at this one time of the year. From those who have much, much is demanded. We should be happy about this, because it could be otherwise. We should give thanks if we have the means to be especially generous, this time of the year or at any other.

That is my message in holiday season in the midst of economic uncertainty. Consider the possibility that there is enough, and more than enough. Reject the myth of scarcity for what it is. Consider the possibility that there is always an abundance of what is needful, be it money, time, talents, or be it only the fullness of what the mystics call "an abundant spirit."

So I say to you,

In these times of economic uncertainty and financial anxiety, let us GIVE. Every time we forget to breathe when we read the paper or watch the news, let us GIVE. Every time we see that our 401 (k) or pension savings account had less than what we had expected, let us GIVE. Every time we open a bill and wonder how it's going to get paid, let us GIVE. Every time we are overcome by visions of scarcity and deprivation, let us GIVE. Every time we are tempted to clutch our wallets or purses just a little tighter to keep more of what we have to ourselves, let us GIVE.

Let us all give. Give something of what we have, of what we are. Let us give our time to someone we love. Let us share our gifts with our religious community. Let us give a compliment, a hug, a card, a smile. Let us give to a cause that matters. Let us give to our faith community that is there for us. Somehow let us give.

There are hardly any of us who cannot be more generous than we have been up to this point, with our money, our talents, and our time. More generous to those we love and who need us, more generous to those who are struggling just to cope, more forgiving to those we have been hurt by.

Some of us may feel tapped out, and if that is your situation, then you are called upon to reach down into your deeper reserves of energy and strength, as well as money.

When your life seems beset by problems and confusion, when you are feeling misunderstood and unappreciated, when you sense you are really alone and no one notices, or if they notice they don't care, or if they care they don't say anything, then you will find that some act of kindness or generosity on your part will be the key to recreating a right relationship.

The faith upon which this church is built affirms that we are not alone, and some things matter enormously. We may feel lost but we are never abandoned. We may be down to our last ounce of strength, but there is always the creative power at the center of existence to which we can turn, to which we can reach out, and when it appears, appears in the form of the hands and faces of other human beings. And then God, or the higher power, or simply love, makes itself known.

When we're generous in the parts of life that really matter to us, we are reminded where our real investments are. Our real investments are in our loved ones, the communities where we find joy and support, and the worthy causes that never fail to move us. These are our investments of our hearts and our values. They are exceedingly valuable. Generosity in these investments may even increase their value. And they need our contributions now more than ever.

Even small acts of generosity will do. So may your holidays be filled with many gifts, both given and received, more even than you expected or dreamed. I wish it for you. So may it be.