Marjorie Turner Hollman helps authors self-publish their books. She is also a disability advocate, sharing information about Easy Walks (not too many roots or rocks, relatively level with firm footing, and something of interest along the way) in open space. Link to all Marjorie’s books.
LISTEN:
It’s better to give than to receive, so they say. Maybe you’ve heard this around the holidays, when gift-giving is a big thing. For children, like “share your toys!”, the phrase is often heard as a scold. Perhaps you were resentful that someone else got something you wanted. You might have felt disappointed in a gift you received and made the mistake of letting others know.
As we grow older and have more agency, the inclination to give can take on different dynamics.
Being in a position to give—a favor, a job, a cup of sugar, a donation—can be (or feel like) a power position. I give, someone else takes, so I am good, and that someone else is a “taker.” But if we look at this from another perspective, the urge to give can satisfy a need we ourselves have.
CAVEAT—I will not be addressing those who take advantage of generous givers, and giving (loving too much) that enables abusive behavior. Those are other topics for another time.
A moment
I was at church, about to participate in the rite of communion when I witnessed a person wanting, hoping to give what he was able. He stood at the altar, raising his frail arms, with the cup in his hands, to ask for the blessing. Then, holding the salver, he prepared to deposit a small wafer in the hands of the congregants and then to offer us sips of wine from the chalice.
It’s a practice that can often feel routine (although it isn’t).
This time, however, felt very different. The man in front of us was dying from cancer, and we knew it. As he beckoned us forward, we filed up the aisle, then kneeled and held out our hands. With great care he placed a small wafer in each of our palms. Accepting the gift, we heard him recite, “The body of Christ.” Then, offering the cup of wine he continued, “The blood of Christ.” Once we had all had been fed, the giving and receiving was complete. Or was it?
In that situation, it was we, the recipients, whom he needed in order to bring his actions of giving and receiving to completion. Weakened, clearly suffering, he was determined to serve as long as he could. This was a commitment he had made to God and his congregation many years before.
Thinking back on that day, it feels absurd to think that any of us might have tried to stop him or to refuse to accept what he offered. His life, his work, (among other duties) was to administer the sacred elements for our benefit. If we had declined to let him serve us, we would have deprived him of the gift of giving.
This image of him standing in front of us has stayed with me. On shaky legs, he needed for us to reach out and accept what he struggled so desperately to share.
I have pondered this brief moment over the years and have struggled to capture in words its significance. We were giving to the giver, by graciously accepting what he hungered to share.
The circle of life
Some months later in that same space, now debilitated by a sudden and serious illness, I sat in the church’s choir loft, peering over the railing at the rest of the congregation below me. My weakened condiiton had left me beholden to so many. I had been the recipient of countless gifts of time, treasure, listening ears, warm meals, and transportation. Arrayed before me were people who had stepped up and given to me and my family, seeking nothing in return.
Unable to see into an uncertain future, for I was not cured, I prayed. It was not a bargaining prayer; instead, I was beseeching, “May I be able to give back, if only a fraction, of what I have received.”
Passing it on
In the intervening years, my prayer has been answered in countless ways. Have I directly reciprocated what was given to me? No. But I have shared with others so many of the lessons I learned through those hardest of days. I have been able to lend a hand to those who are walking paths I have already trod, being mindful of the times I have been taken care of.
So sure, it’s probably better to give than to receive. But in my own experience the reality is more complex. When I encounter someone expressing shame about needing help, I often suggest to them, “If we all do the giving, and no one is there to receive, it’s an empty equation. Somebody’s got to do the receiving!”
Almost always, this observation brings a smile to the face of the person I’m trying to encourage, which is my intent. My hope is that it removes, or at least reduces, the shame our culture has placed on those who are needful of support. We struggle desperately not to be seen as “needy,” which seems like a terrible social curse in this day and age.
I would suggest that the acts of giving and receiving can be circular rather than one-way. That circle may take strange, unfamiliar shapes. There might be detours, and bends around corners along the way and large gaps. In my own life the interval has often felt much longer than I have wished between recognizing my need and receiving help to meet it.
Persist
In the book of Luke (18:1-5), Jesus told a parable to the effect that one ought always to pray and not lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor respected man. And there was a widow in that city who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Give me justice against my adversary.’ For awhile he refused, but afterward he said to himself, ‘Though I neither fear God nor respect man, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will give her justice, so that she will not beat me down by her continual coming.’”
Faith
That’s where faith comes in. Believing that where we are is not where we will always be, that change will come, that we should not be ashamed to keep asking for what we need, and that the giver may find the are called upon to extend themselves, not anticipating how they will be rewarded. This is where it rings true that it is better to give than to receive. But as I so often say, “Someone’s got to do the receiving!”
In helping to close that circle, at whatever place you are in that continuum, may you discover that the benefits have expanded far beyond what you ever could have imagined.
Marjorie
Marjorie Turner Hollman 