The Generous Right

I’ve been doing some reflecting on the implications of the Democrats’ historic victories in the midterm elections and what it might mean for the future of the Republican Party and, by extension, how Christians with right-leaning political convictions engage with politics going forward. Like any interested observer I have opinions about what went wrong and predictions about what is likely to happen next, some of which will probably be right and some of which will be wrong. But my analysis of what happened, what it does and doesn’t mean, and what might happen next, is not what this is going to be about. Instead, I wanted to share a thought I had in the midst of all the others that hopefully is worth latching onto and perhaps can be encouraging and edifying not only to those who share my political leanings, but also those who do not.

That thought is this: It is absolutely necessary for us to be a generous and charitable people.

I believe politics is downstream of culture, and culture is downstream of religion. One of the central talking points in our political discourse today is the subject of affordability. We constantly hear about how inflation has wreaked havoc on the finances of everyday Americans. Housing prices are up as well as mortgage rates, energy is up, groceries are up, insurance is expensive, and wages haven’t kept pace. Politicians from both parties make it a point to campaign on these issues, pitching themselves to voters as the ones who are in touch with the struggles of everyday people and who will truly fight for them.

There are all sorts of ways for politically right-leaning people to respond to this. We can argue about whether it’s the government’s responsibility to provide people with jobs or make sure housing prices are low. We can talk about how assigning responsibility to the government for these things creates a permanently dependent underclass and then shapes society around a transactional relationship between that dependent class and the political leaders. We can talk about how a lot of times people’s financial stress is a result of their own bad financial decision making rather than any structural societal problem requiring government intervention. We can remind people that even people living below what we consider the poverty line today enjoy comforts and amenities that were accessible to only the upper class just a century ago if they even existed at all. We can talk about how liberating and invigorating it is to take responsibility for your own life rather than pass that responsibility off on politicians or “the system.” We can complain about the sense of entitlement that is so ubiquitous in our culture, as if government handouts are something people deserve simply for existing.

All of these points are valid (in my opinion at least) and there are many times where it is appropriate and worthwhile to make them. But what if this broken aspect of our politics (that is, the fact that so much of it revolves around people looking to the government to solve their problems) is pointing to a more profound cultural deficit of real, tangible, and personal generosity? What if the sense of entitlement that is so pervasive in our culture isn’t from lack of anything to be grateful for, but rather from lack of anyone to be grateful to? What if we can fill that void?

It’s good to convince people to maximize their own agency, to strive to take ownership of their own life and become an independent member of society (that is, someone who can meet his own needs through equal exchange with others rather than being dependent on their charity). But we also have to recognize that some people simply lack the capacity to do so for one reason or another. We also have to recognize that some people do have the capacity to do so but have not yet actually achieved it and are trying and struggling. And maybe some are not trying but would if they knew someone would help them succeed. And for us, the purpose of being an independent member of society needs to be so that we can aid those who are not. The purpose of strength needs to be to uplift the weaker. The purpose of wisdom needs to be to guide the simple. The purpose of wealth needs to be to aid the poor.

It is easy to read “When Helping Hurts” and then excuse ourselves from helping when it helps. We need to create a culture of generosity that looks for reasons to help carry each other’s burdens instead of looking for reasons not to.  If we want to have a “high trust society” we need to start by being a people who can be trusted not just to refrain from wronging one another, but to actively come to the aid of each other. And not just in times of acute crisis and catastrophes, but as part of a normal rhythm of our lives.

And I mean this at a very grassroots level down to the individual. I am not talking about making a donation to World Vision or filling up a shoebox for Operation Christmas Child that goes 4,000 miles away. I am not even talking about showing up to volunteer at the local food bank one Saturday per month. Not that I am against any of those things—large scale operations like that are good and needed, but that’s not what I am talking about here.

I am talking about a culture where generosity is part of our routine, spontaneous interactions with one another. A culture where it is normal to actively seek out opportunities to help someone who is struggling in real, tangible, meaningful ways where the person receiving the help and the person doing the helping are not separated by an impersonal philanthropic entity. Pay a month’s rent for a young couple struggling financially. Pay a semester’s tuition for the kid going to trade school. Buy groceries for the beggar outside the store. Buy a box of diapers for the person who recently had a baby. Buy a week of groceries for the single mom at work. Make people refuse help rather than ask for it. Be the most generous person someone knows.

If we want people to stop looking to politicians to solve all their problems, we need to create and be a credible and accessible alternative to turn to for help. And not just for people we like, people we think deserve help, or people who are on our side. This needs to be our disposition even towards those who deem us enemies. I know the impulsive response to that in some circles will be that I “don’t know what time it is” with respect to the divide between the progressive left and the Christian right. I assure you, I am fully aware that we operate on two politically incompatible civilizational visions. My notion of an ideal political system would entail a confessional state with an established church and institutions centered on it. I am not a postwar pluralist. But we do not live under such a political order, and such a political order would require this culture I am describing anyway.

But the point is not that we should be generous so that some day we might be able to leverage that into political power. The point is also not to be generous so if a 21st century Bolshevik regime lines you up against the wall they decide to spare you because you’re “one of the good ones.”

The point is that any properly Christian political order depends on and entails a culture of generosity because Christianity itself calls us to it. Saint John Chrysostom in his 33rd homily on Matthew says to “Let us be ashamed, who do the contrary, who set like wolves upon our enemies. For so long as we are sheep, we conquer: though ten thousand wolves prowl around, we overcome and prevail. But if we become wolves, we are worsted, for the help of our shepherd departs from us: for He feeds not wolves, but sheep.”

We must strive to be a generous and charitable people, extending that even to our enemies, because it is part of what it means to bear witness to the glory, kindness, love, and mercy of God which is our task. We can do that regardless of whether the governing authorities in our nation are hostile towards us, indifferent to us, or actively supporting us. And in so doing we can advance this gospel of ours that can save not only ourselves, our families and our communities, but perhaps our nation as well.