If you’ll pardon the pun, I’ll begin with a grim tale from the Brothers’ Grimm. Once upon a time, a man and his wife were sitting on their porch with a roast chicken before them that they were about to eat. Then the man saw his old father coming along, so he quickly hid the chicken in the house, for he begrudged him any of it. The old man came, had a drink, and went away. Now the son was about to put the roast chicken back on the table, but when he reached for it, it had turned into a big toad that jumped in his face and stayed there and wouldn’t go away. If anybody tried to disturb it, it would give them a poisonous look, as if about to jump in their faces, so that no one dared touch it. The ungrateful son had to feed the toad every day, otherwise it chewed on his face. Thus, the son went ceaselessly hither and yon about in the world. (Story retold in “The Gift” by Lewis Hyde.)
The folk tale was told as a way to illustrate how gifts are meant to remain in motion. We receive from the generosity of others and are blessed by passing on to others out of a similar, generous spirit. But by hoarding goods, by refusing to share the bounty we have received, it’s as if “toads” of greed and dumb-lust have made a home in our midst.
Many cultures have quite elaborate rituals associated with gift-giving. It can range from Kula gifts of shells and necklaces passed around between chieftains in Western Pacific islands to the gifts presented by Presidents and Prime Ministers when they visit other heads of state. It usually extends beyond reciprocal giving, quid pro quo, in which only two people benefit from the exchange. Ideally it’s a wide circle in which a gift (or things shared in a spirit of generous gift-giving) move through many hands and multiple recipients.
A stronger version of this idea comes from the American Indians of the North American coast, who celebrates “potlatches.” They are feasts lasting several days given by a member of the tribe for the benefit of the whole tribe. The Haida Indians call their potlatches a ceremony for “killing wealth,” as items of value are freely given away, burnt, and “consumed,” meaning that they move from one hand to another with no assurance of getting anything in return.
In a consumer society built upon possession and accumulating wealth, there’s much we can learn from these descriptions of “gift-giving” cultures. As a faith society, there are many ways to build upon these ideas. There’s a “stewardship lesson” in that our lives are meant to be spent as “cheerful givers” and that involves both the actual act of generous sharing as well as the spiritual practice of trusting God to provide for our needs.
There’s also a “Pentecost lesson” in all this. For on that church “birthing-day” long ago, the people received something from God that could not be hoarded or possessed. It had to be shared. It literally sent them out into the streets, despite the risks involved in telling the gospel of Christ to a community that only recently had put Jesus to death. It moved them to talk and share and give away all they had held dear (not just possessions, but their very safety and social standing) for the sake of this transformative, generous gospel of Christ.
See how, by God’s grace, you can change the dominant metaphor of your life from one of calculating possessions to generous gift-giving. Discover, with the Spirit’s prodding, how your spheres of influence, friendship and joy will expand in ever-widening circles of grace.