We live in a world where so much of life is transactional. We pay for something and expect to receive something in return. We give our time and expect results. We help someone and hope our efforts will be appreciated. We have become accustomed to measuring the value of things by what we receive in exchange.
But what happens when we approach our relationships with others in the same way?
In his first letter to the Thessalonians, Paul describes something different. He reminds the community that he and his companions cared for them so deeply that they were willing to share not only the good news of God, but their very selves. They were not simply delivering a message or completing a task. They were building relationships with people they had come to love.
That distinction matters.
There is nothing wrong with feeling good when we help someone. Generosity can bring joy and satisfaction. But when feeling good about ourselves becomes the primary reason we help, we risk turning generosity into something that serves the giver more than the person receiving assistance.
Sometimes this becomes what is called toxic charity. We may give something away while expecting gratitude, admiration, or a particular response. We may decide what another person needs without listening to what they have to say. We may even become disappointed when our generosity does not produce the outcome we expected.
At that point, have we really considered the person we are trying to help?
Jesus tells us to love our neighbors as ourselves. That commandment asks something more of us than simply providing assistance. It calls us to recognize the dignity of others, to listen to their experiences, and to care about their lives beyond whatever immediate need brought us together.
At Trinity, Laundry Love provides a wonderful example of how this can happen. Clean clothes and access to laundry facilities are important. Meeting those practical needs matters, and we should never minimize their value. But something else happens when people gather together month after month. Conversations begin. Stories are shared. People recognize one another. Relationships grow.
Those relationships cannot be measured by the number of loads of laundry done.
And this is not limited to Laundry Love. It happens in conversations after worship, around tables at Wednesday gatherings, and in encounters throughout our community. Sometimes the most meaningful thing we offer is not something we can purchase or donate. It is our willingness to listen, to be present, and to allow another person to become part of our lives.
There is another important part of this. Relationships are not just in one direction. We all have something to give, and we all have something to receive. When we approach another person only as someone who needs our help, we may overlook the wisdom, kindness, experiences, and friendship they have to offer us.
Receiving graciously can be just as important as giving generously.
Of course, giving ourselves does not mean giving endlessly. We need boundaries, rest, and opportunities to care for ourselves. Those boundaries are not necessarily immovable barriers. They may change as our circumstances and abilities change. Healthy relationships make room for those realities, rather than expecting anyone to give until they are exhausted.
When we talk about stewardship, we often think first about money. Financial generosity certainly matters. But the care of what God has entrusted to us also includes our time, attention, abilities, and relationships. These are gifts that can help make God's love known in the world.
Paul's words remind us that the Christian life is not just about giving things away. It is about sharing life with one another.
So maybe the question for us is not only, "What do I have to give?"
It is also this: Who might experience God's love differently if we offered not only what we have, but something of ourselves?
Kevin+
