In the Great Hall of the Museum of Civilization in Ottawa there is an epitaph for an aboriginal leader named Chief Clelamen:
In Memory of Chief Clelamen
who died 1893 aged 50
He was honest and well disposed and respected by both whites and Indians
In Dec. 1892 he gave away, with the help
of his sons Alexander and Johnny,
property in blankets, canoes, etc.
valued at $4,000 dollars,
this being his eighth large potlach
and feast he had held.
No other information is provided on the sign. I am struck by the fact that Chief Clelamen was not remembered for his great accomplishments — there was no mention in his obituary of the archery competitions he had won or the number of beaver pelts he had accumulated. He is remembered simply for what he had managed to give away during the course of his lifetime — $4,000 worth the year before he died. Truly, Chief Clelamen’s life was defined by his generosity.
Potlaches were a vital part of the culture of the indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest. The potlach ceremonies included songs and dances and storytelling, but the main purpose of a potlach was the redistribution of wealth. The more the hosts were able to give away, the more highly they were esteemed. According to Wikipedia “potlatching was made illegal in Canada in 1885, largely at the urging of missionaries and government agents who considered it ‘a worse than useless custom’ that was seen as wasteful, unproductive and contrary to ‘civilized’ values.”
I am saddened that potlaches were banned by the Canadian government, and I am even more saddened by the part that the church played in the ban. The legislation banning potlaches robbed the aboriginal peoples of an important part of their culture. But I am convinced that banning potlaches was also a loss for Canadian culture as a whole, for no culture can grow and prosper without a spirit of generosity like that expressed by the potlach ceremonies.
A man once shouted out from the crowd while Jesus was teaching, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” (Luke 12:13) Jesus’ response to the man is interesting. He responds by offering the man a bit of pastoral advice: “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” (Luke 12:15)
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Teaching Stewardship and Generosity
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It is advice we desperately need to hear today, for our modern North American civilization teaches us just the opposite. Our society teaches us that our lives are defined by what we manage to accumulate. We live in a culture that lures us on with dreams that we will be happy and secure only when we have more than we have now: a bigger house, a better paying job, a better spouse, a more expensive car, you know, MORE. Theologian Mary Jo Leddy calls this the “Empire of More,” which reigns over the hearts and minds of so many people today and which makes us constantly dissatisfied with what we have so that we are always left itching for more. What is the point of it all? MORE! The problem is, the more we have, the more we want. We are never satisfied. The Avett Brothers speak to this predicament poetically in their song, Ill With Want:
I am sick with wanting,
and it’s evil how it’s got me
And every day is worse than the one before.
The more I have, the more I think
I’m almost where I need to be
If only I could get a little more.
I am more and more convinced that the meaning of our lives can only be found not in what we manage to accumulate but in what we manage to give away. It is only in adopting a lifestyle of generosity that we will discover the true purpose of our lives. That is because we were made to give: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only son.” (John 3:16) In other words, we were created in the image of God, and the God who creates us is a generous God. The God we come to know in Jesus Christ is the God who, like Chief Clelamen, is defined by generosity. By definition, love ceases to be love unless it is shared and given away. Try to hold on to love, and like the manna the Israelites collected in the wilderness, it rots and goes bad.
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Five ways we give
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One of the best definitions I have ever heard of stewardship is also the shortest: “Stewardship is organizing our life so that we can give it away.” When my father learned that he was dying of cancer, some years after my mother died of cancer, the first thing he did was go to his desk and look through his files. He wanted to make sure that everything was in order before he died. After rummaging through his papers, he finally found what he was looking for — his Last Will and Testament. He called me into the living room to read it aloud to me. With every name he mentioned as a beneficiary of his estate, he would cry. When he came to the names of his three sons, he could read no further; overcome with emotion, he began to sob. At that moment, I realized that my dad had worked his entire life in order to be able to provide a legacy for those he loved.
Let me repeat: Stewardship is organizing our life so that we can give it away. The communion table we gather around is really God’s potlach for God’s people — that banquet of God’s grace in which God holds nothing back and gives everything away, including His only Son. It is God’s generosity we feast on every time we celebrate communion. That’s why Paul was so upset with the way the Corinthian church was celebrating the Lord’s Supper. Everyone brought their own portions, with the result that the wealthier members of the congregation became stuffed on food and drunk with wine, while their poorer brothers and sisters went away hungry. “And you call that the Lord’s Supper!” Paul exclaims in anger. “When you come together, it is not really the Lord’s Supper you are eating,” (1 Corinthians 11:20) Paul insists. It is a sham and causes more harm than good.
The gospel is not ours to keep — it is ours to share. Our wealth is not ours to keep — it is ours to share. Our life is not ours to keep — it is ours to share. Through the deeds we do day by day that give shape to the hope within us — through the gifts we give, both large and small — we can have a part in shaping the kind of people we will become and the kind of church, the kind of world, our children and grandchildren will inherit. May we dare to follow in the way of Jesus Christ and the way of Chief Clelamen. May we, too, learn to give, give, give, so that our lives, like theirs, are defined by generosity.
