Givers and Takers

Faith Bosland

“Some people are givers and some are takers, and they are takers.”

The statement made me feel gut punched. 

Spoken casually about those without a lot of financial resources, struggling to get by, often needing material assistance. 

Now, I think I understand the perspective this person was taking. She had built a business from the ground up, had worked hard, seen financial success, paid her share of taxes. She was coming from the viewpoint that people relying on government benefits to survive were takers. Not contributing to society. A drain. And maybe when it comes to a government budget, it appears they are.

But I thought of my friends from church and their stories.

I thought of Michelle. A 50-year-old woman with debilitating health problems, who readily took in her infant grandson rather than see him go into foster care. Was she a taker?

I thought of Jim, a disabled man who was present in our gathering week in and week out, praying for all of us out loud. Was he a taker?

I thought of Ron, a retired military veteran, who greeted me with kindness each week and always had time for a conversation. Was he a taker?

I thought of Sharon and Ken, a married couple with significant health struggles, who cared sacrificially for Ron in his public senior housing apartment when he became terminally ill. Were they takers?

I thought of Philip, a man who’d battled addiction throughout his life and was now on the front lines bringing the love of Christ to men facing the same battles. Was Philip a taker?

I thought of those who would share food with one another, let family members sleep on their couch, readily invite friends and strangers to hear the good news. And I knew that in spite of the fact that many of my church friends relied on government benefits for survival, the word “taker” was the wrong label. 

Taker might seem like the right word, if you reduced my friends’ identity to what people who study these things call “homo economicus” - an identity centered on economic production and consumerism. Economic production has its value. But it’s not our gospel identity, not the worth of our soul. Jesus warned in strong words that we dare not confuse the two, in our words, our actions, or our subconscious value for people. 

In fact, those of us who reduce our own value to our production, “homo economicus,” may be in for a shock when the things that make us productive are taken from us. (Luke 12:20)

The truth is, my friends who fight for survival daily have taught me more about my own gospel identity and worth of my soul, than those who society might consider productive members. I watch my friends with little financial margin very often, in the words of Isaiah 58, spend themselves on behalf of the hungry and the oppressed, in ways that I with more financial comfort do not. And I aspire to become a giver like them.

We are more than a balance sheet, more than the size of our bank account, more than the to-do lists we check off, more than the titles we hold or the letters behind our names. And we will understand the good news of Jesus more fully when we engage with those who know deep down that their worth is far greater than their production.

Reflection Questions

1. Has there been a time in your life when God helped you see more clearly that your worth was not tied to your economic production?

2. Have you ever seen someone with little financial margin “spend themselves” serving or giving to others?

3. What practices help you remember that God sees you as more than your economic value?