Generosity is living with a large heart, about having a heart that’s open and responsive to others. In the words of the song we just sang, it’s about giving yourself away. Not just talking about your finances. That’s such a small part of biblical generosity. It’s about your attitude, your time, your whole self.

• The kind of generosity we’re talking about is a natural by-product of living in the Kingdom, experiencing God’s goodness.
• You know, what if the Father is really as good as Jesus says He is? That changes things — it allows us to live out of a different place.
• John of the Cross talks about living life from the “center” — this place of God’s supreme goodness. When you’ve experienced God’s goodness, you can live with generosity. You share of yourself because God’s goodness is sustaining you.

And it even extends out to sharing Jesus with others — that’s an act of generosity, too.

---

I think a good example of this is found in what Paul writes to the Thessalonians:

1 Thessalonians 2:8

Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well.

This is the highest form of generosity: when we share the gospel with someone and we also share our own lives. The two are linked together in a powerful way.

• Paul’s preaching of the gospel isn’t detached from his own life. It’s not impersonal bullet points about abstract theology.
• It’s natural for Paul to share the gospel and share his life because the two are so interwoven together. When we accept the gospel, it becomes the most personal element of our being. It’s at the core of who we are.
• I think that’s why Paul is always telling his story in the book of Acts and in his letters.
• In 1 Thessalonians, Paul has just said that he was gentle with the Thessalonians, like a nursing mother taking care of an infant. The point is obvious: Paul’s generosity of spirit helps him treat the Thessalonian believers as if they are his own family.
• One scholar notes: “We were delighted does not mean simply that they took pleasure in this, but rather that by an act of will they decided to make a commitment to the Thessalonians.”
• Older translations use the word “souls” instead of “lives” — we shared not only the gospel of God but our own souls as well.

This is the kind of generosity we are called to demonstrate as we interact with others. Generosity is living with a heart so large that we treat people like family. This requires discipline — an act of the will, as the commentator says. But that kind of generosity is a commitment to others in the name of the gospel.

Our mission is to share Jesus with every man, woman, and child in the city of Huntsville — just as it says in Acts 19 that everyone in Ephesus heard the word of the Lord in the two years Paul spent there. How is this ever going to happen if we’re not generous in sharing with others? What would happen if we started sharing not only the gospel with people — but also our lives? What would happen if you shared your story with someone?

When is the last time you shared your story with someone? Let me put it this way: When is the last time you shared your soul with someone? There is so much power there.

---

Generosity is about giving people the benefit of the doubt. It’s about kindness and hospitality and love — in this way, generosity is a gospel word.

The greatest threat to my generosity is usually the way I choose to react to someone else’s lack of generosity.

---

Two stories about generosity:

About a week ago, Madison Academy had their annual music show for students called Music Mania. It’s two nights of performances (one for elementary, one for the high school) and they needed parents to volunteer to work the ticket table. So I volunteered to help and they gave me an iPad and a box full of cash and set me up at a table right inside the door. If you bought your ticket in advance, it was something like $5 or $10. But if you waited until the night of the show, the ticket price went up to $20. Guy shows up, I say, “That’ll be $40.” He makes a big scene. “$40! That’s outrageous!” I said, “Yeah, I’m sorry. That’s how much it costs for two tickets; they’re $20 a piece.” And he does it again, only this time he’s like looking around at other people. He says, “$20 a person! That’s ridiculous!” And he’s looking around like he’s trying to start a revolution or something. “These prices, am I right? Who’s with me?”

And in that moment, I had a choice to make. In these kinds of verbal confrontations, I can hold my own. I have a pretty quick mind, I’m good with my words — so I had a choice to make. Part of me wanted to say, “Look, man. This is a fundraiser. All of this money goes into this program to help your children. What, do you think I’m going to slip out of town tonight and head off to Tunica with all of your cash? Give me a break. How much would you pay to watch your children do something they love?” Those were some of the thoughts in my head at the time.

But all week long, I had been going over material for this series. And just that week, I had been really focusing in on the idea of generosity as living with a large heart. And for me to react to his ugliness with more ugliness wouldn’t have been very generous. It wouldn’t have been very large hearted. So I just said, “Sir, I understand that you’re upset. But I don’t set the ticket prices. I’m just the guy with the iPad. If you’d like to buy a ticket, I can help you. But if not, I need to wait on the people behind you in line.”

Before anything else could happen, his wife stepped up and said to her husband, “Will you just buy a ticket? You’re embarrassing me!”

---

Second story: John Ortberg tells this story about Dallas Willard, who in addition to being a world class theologian and thinker also served as a professor at the University of Southern California. Someone once observed Willard teaching a course and toward the end of one class, a cocksure freshman objected to something Willard had said. Dallas just stood there stoically as this young man ranted and raved. And it was evident to this observer that the young man was not only out of line, but wholly incorrect in his understanding of Willard’s point.

When the young man finished his diatribe, Willard said in a gentle voice, “I think this is good place for us to stop today. We’ll pick up here next time.” After the students had filed out of the classroom, the observer questioned Willard, saying, “Why didn’t you correct that kid? You could’ve really crushed him…and if you ask me, I think he deserves it!”

Willard simply replied, “I am practicing the spiritual discipline of not having to get in the last word.”

I think he was also practicing the spiritual discipline of loving generosity.