There exist two kinds of poverty in the world.
The first is relative poverty, which is the kind most of us are referring to when we say we’re poor, or someone we know is poor. The relative poor drive beat up old cars, live in apartments and mobile homes, and eat at home or eat fast food. They are poor relative to those around them, getting by on minimum wage incomes.
The other is absolute poverty. People who live in absolute poverty don’t have cars, homes, or cell phones. They live in makeshift shacks, eat whatever they can find, and own nothing. Most Americans have never seen absolute poverty. Even when I lived and traveled in the Dominican Republic I rarely saw it.
There are also two kinds of generosity in the world.
The first is relative generosity. This is likely what we’re thinking of when we imagine ourselves to be generous. We give more than most people we know and do it more frequently. Those of us who are relatively generous give what we have left, as long as it does not affect our quality of life or our
ability to acquire the things we need.
The other is absolute generosity. This I have also rarely seen. It is what came to mind this week when I heard a young man from a developing country commit himself to “helping the poorest children in our community,” even though he lives on less than ten dollars a day himself.
The person who lives in absolute generosity says I will give what I have, even if it’s all I have. He seeks out ways to give and to bless, and considers the benefit to others before he considers the cost to himself.
In 2 Corinthians 8, Paul describes this expression of absolute generosity, “we want you to know about the grace that God has given the Macedonian churches. Out of the most severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity. For I testify that they
gave as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability.”
Absolute generosity is an expression of God’s grace given to us.
It comes out of the most severe trial, not out of abundance or blessing.
And it is a collision of overflowing joy and extreme poverty, set apart not because of its monetary value, but because it was complete and done with much joy.