On
my walk from the train station to my office each day, I encounter at least
a half dozen panhandlers—homeless people holding out cups for change.
Seldom do I give them anything, but this troubles me in light of Jesus’ injunction
to “give to everyone who begs from you” (Luke 6:30), no questions
asked. Don’t ask if the person is worthy of charity. Don’t even
ask what the person will do with the aid. If he uses it to buy cigarettes
instead of breakfast, so be it. God didn’t ask how we’d respond
when he gave his Son for our salvation, after all.
For a while I solved this dilemma by befriending Raymond Jones. Raymond stood outside our office building selling Streetwise, a weekly newspaper produced by homeless people in Chicago. I’d buy his newspaper and slip him an extra dollar bill, and I’d give him some of my spouse’s baked goods, for which she is well-known. Once I gave him a warm hooded sweatshirt left behind in our office. He proudly wore the sweatshirt bearing the name of a Christian college. He was always grateful, not just for the handouts but also for the friendship.
Then one day Raymond showed me a letter he had received from a big-city hospital known for treating indigents. He had gone there for some tests and the news wasn’t good: the letter said he had cancer. He would have to admit himself for treatment. And that was the last I ever saw of Raymond. Just like that, a person I looked forward to greeting every working day was gone from my life.
When we talk about money and giving in the church, we use words like stewardship, tithing, and firstfruits giving. But seldom do I hear the word alsmgiving. I wonder why not. Sure, we give alms all the time to the poor and needy, both as individuals and as congregations. And we have a major institution—Mennonite Central Committee—whose mission includes almsgiving. But we don’t call it that. We call it providing relief or material aid instead.
Yet almsgiving is a very biblical concept. Jesus talked about it, and so did the early church. “Whenever you give alms,” Jesus said, “do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others” (Matt. 6:1). Jesus talked about “when” you give alms, not “if.” Almsgiving was a practice that was assumed in the synagogue, and Jesus did or said nothing to reverse this practice. He did, however, warn against making a show of giving and against getting human recognition for our generosity— which is why I am very uneasy with the recent practice of Mennonite institutions naming buildings and endowments after the benefactors. What would Jesus have to say about that?
The word alms comes from the Greek word eleemosyne, which means mercy. To give alms, in other words, is to show mercy toward another person, just as God has been merciful toward us. But in the Old Testament alms can also be related to the Hebrew word sedaqa, which means justice or righteousness. So the act of giving alms embodies both mercy and justice.
Charity alone does not suffice. While we give to eliminate immediate needs, we must also work to overcome the conditions that create poverty and the disparities between the rich and poor. So the question is not simply, Where is the next Raymond Jones in my life? but also, Why is there homelessness in the first place, and what does justice require of us in the face of homelessness?
The Didache, an early Christian document most likely from the second century, acknowledges the problem of people receiving alms who don’t need them. Yet it affirms what Jesus said—give to everyone who asks you—and holds the unworthy recipient accountable, not the giver.
But then the Didache adds this advice: “Let your alms sweat in your hand until you know to whom you are giving” (Didache 1:6). One interpretation of this is that prudence and discernment are necessary after all, despite what Jesus said. Another interpretation is that it doesn’t contradict what Jesus said about giving to everyone who asks; rather, it reflects Jesus’ own ministry. Jesus, after all, didn’t reach out to everyone he encountered, but when he did reach out, he ministered to the whole person—mind, body, and spirit. And there is no way to do that without getting to know the people to whom we give alms.
Alms for the poor? Most surely. But they and we need each other’s friendship as well.Richard A. Kauffman