Over the holiday season, I've been reading stories like this, and
they've been doing my heart good:
http://consumerist.com/2011/12/not-so-secret-santa-picks-up-16k-for-1000-shoppers-holiday-layaway-items.html
That's the story of someone who paid off all of a local K-Mart's
layaway bills that amounted to less than $100. *All of them*. It
cost just shy of $16,000; the store manager spent four days calling
people to let them know that their stuff was paid for. This
generosity inspired an additional $8,000 worth of anonymous generosity
at K-Mart.
In fact, it's a minor epidemic. Discount stores are a wonderful place
for anonymous generosity, it would seem:
http://www.standard.net/stories/2011/12/17/anonymous-layaway-santa-paying-balances
A mysterious benefactor paid for $10,000 worth of treatment for a
cancer patient:
http://www.ksn.com/content/news/also/story/A-cancer-patient-gets-a-big-donation/uq4FRQkP6k-5EsN9FhwlWQ.cspx
Here's a woman who paid overdue water bills for seventeen families:
http://www.press-citizen.com/article/20111201/NEWS01/312010008/Good-Samaritan-pays-17-overdue-water-bills
The trend has even gotten a name: "layaway angels" or "layaway
Santas". I like Shane Claiborne's term for this kind of kindness:
"holy mischief".
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/shane-claiborne/a-season-for-holy-mischie_b_790149.html
This reminds me of a game my wife and I played before we got married,
and we still resurrect it from time to time: If we won the lottery,
whom would we help without telling anyone? (It's a lot harder to win
the lottery when you don't paticipate, I'll admit, but the huge
jackpots still get us to play with the idea from time to time. I
don't know if I would actually be generous enough to share like this,
but I would like to think that I am.)
It's beautiful, really. But you don't need me to point out how
beautiful it is. You don't need me to explain why this kind of
generosity is admirable, or just plain delightful, or morally good.
We understand that instinctively.
Consider what this means, again, in terms of Dickens' oft-repeated
Christmas story. It has a villain that's fairly typical elsewhere in
Dickens -- a miserly, avaricious rich man who is simultaneously a
calloused and cruel employer. One of the wonderful evidences that he
has changed is that he engages in this kind of anonymous gift-giving.
That spontaneous and anonymous gift-giving pours out of him, because
he has *changed*, and that change is *liberating*.
If only there were some kind of parallel to the Christian experience.
And but anyway, I think this sort of thing flies in the face of those
people who opine that the only reason people have to protest as part
of Occupy <fill-in-the-blank> is their own envy of people who have
more. The delight we take in these stories seems to belie that idea.
We *like* good-hearted rich people. A lot.
(Does anyone remember the unending hullabaloo after Steve Jobs'
death? He was richer than *a lot of people*. Yet, we bought millions
of copies of his biography. We bought Apple products and stock in
record numbers. We set up shrines to his brilliance in our
marketplaces. We talked about him in awed tones on the evening news
for weeks. In what world are these the actions we take when someone
hated has died?)
We don't dislike Scrooge at the beginning of "A Christmas Carol"
because he's successful. We hate him because he's cruel, and greedy,
and petty, and he enriches himself at the expense of the hard work of
his employees. It's so instinctive to dislike these character traits
that Scrooge even hates *himself*; he's one of the most joyless
characters in English literature. And he's this way even though he
tries to reassure himself with the logic of greed. Even though he
tries to remind himself that he's a "job creator", so his abuse of
Cratchit is justified.
But that never works. There's a reason "miserable" and "miserly"
share the same linguistic roots.
So, let me get this game started. Let's say you had $10 million.
Whom would you spend it on? What would you do with it?
When my wife and I play, we like to think of paying off cars or
mortgages for people who aren't expecting it and who are clearly
struggling. Sometimes, I like to think of taking something that's
always been fun for me and making it free for some kids who normally
couldn't get to do it at all. But I bet that you guys are a lot more
inventive and creative than I am -- how would you be generous and
mischievous, if only you had the means?
I bring this up in part because studies show over and over that the
holidays lead to depression in many people (I'm not really immune
myself). I only hope that imagining this way can, if only in our
minds, remove some of the "misery" that seems to cloud so much this
time of year. And maybe it'll get us used to the idea of generosity
generally, a mindset that I imagine our Creator would like to see very
much. :)