Both Oars In Spoiled Good

Sep 4, 2009

I had a horse. I attended high school at a private boarding school. I paid for less of my relatively expensive college education than any of my seven siblings. Throughout college, I was taken out to dinner by those siblings and borrowed their cars. I not only had a silver spoon in my mouth, I had collection of them as a kid. Oddly enough, all of this is why I am a missionary today. I was spoiled good.

I am not alone in this category. There are plenty of examples of famous people who received much or even too much as children and gave it up to serve others. Before we delve into that pile, let me be clear that I do not equate myself with their level of heroics or depth of saintliness. I only mention these scions of reversal of fortune to support the theory that receiving is a strong motivator for giving.

St. Francis was born to an upwardly mobile family. He was the only child of a shrewd businessman who profited from the faltering economics of ne’er-do-well nobles. Francesco, as he was called by his doting mother and his friends who admired his sense of haute couture, was a playboy. His father had high aspirations for him, and so gave him the means to throw lavish parties. Born a little too early for a sports car, he was given a real mustang by his father to advance his status in society. In the end, Francis left his horse, beautiful house, and rich future to serve the poor. He found his fame in the simplicity of poverty, not the grandeur of wealth.

The recent death of Ted Kennedy brings to mind his brother, John. Certainly, President Kennedy did not lead the life of a pauper, but he ultimately gave up everything to serve the public. It is impossible to escape the irony of the assassination of a man who once said, "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." In the end, much like St. Francis, John left behind the largess heaped on him by a successful father to serve the people humbly and unselfishly first as an officer in the Navy and later as our 35th president.

My mom often tells the story of why she decided to cash in the small and, to my knowledge, only inheritance she received to pay for my first year at Culver. Some might figure she sacrificed to send her eighth child to private military school in hopes of curbing his bad behavior. There is evidence to support that theory; however, the truth is that she did it because I asked. It is unlikely she could have known that this generosity would later prove to be part of the straw that broke the camel’s back, but she did know that her father was a bit bitter in his adult life due to being denied many things in his youth. Motherhood does have its wisdom.

It just seems easier to give when you have received much from others. It is not a question of justice; it is a result of having confidence in benevolence. I know that people are good because many have been exceptionally good to me. I have seen rich and poor alike extend themselves to assist other human beings. I have no worries about where I will get my next meal, paycheck or ride to the airport. I know the source of what I have received and I am confident it is a never ending well.

Not everyone who has been born to the manor or had advantages heaped on him or her by generous parents feels moved to give it up. Many, like the young man who asked Jesus what he must do to achieve spiritual advancement, turn and walk away from the opportunity to gain much by giving it all away. This is a pity. There is a real benefit for society and the individual for those who do.

We often fixate on stories of children who have been spoiled rotten. It just seems counterintuitive to imagine that being given everything could result in a person who shares. Yet, our literature and history are filled with scrooges whose hearts have been thawed by the warmth of generosity. I am not sure that I am really that good, but I know that the good I am able to do is a direct result of the good that has been given to me. Receiving is a great catalyst for giving—in my experience, maybe even the greatest.