10% feels like a large amount of money to give away. No matter who you are, I think it’s definitely uncomfortable. 10% on a $50,000 income is $5000. 10% of $100,000 is $10,000.
I know a lot of people in the $100,000+ range for whom writing a $10,000 check to a charity or church or individual in need would be really uncomfortable. Heck, even $5000 would be uncomfortable for most of them.
Yet most religions recommend some form of tithing. Why is this?
I have a couple thoughts on this. First, it is a form of spiritual discipline, like fasting. Fasting reminds you that it is okay to be uncomfortable. Many of us fear going hungry, even if only at a subconscious level. How else could you explain the irrationality and urgency of being “hangry?” In such a state, we literally think our lives are in danger.
Even if we aren’t explicitly fearful of death itself, we might be afraid of going without. Fasting reminds us that our lives are not dependent on getting what we want all the time. Life goes on.
Without fasting and giving, many of us live as if the purpose of our lives were to consume as much as possible, to do as much of what we want as much as we can. If you live that way, the only limit to your behavior is your own resources.
But if you limit yourself willingly, you start to see your capacity for choice. You can choose what “enough” is, for yourself. The tunnel-vision widens out, and you start to see a wider range of possibilities for your life, and how your measure it. Life becomes more human.
Your life, in other words, becomes less about you, and more about the wider ecosystem in which you live. This is the second reason to commit to some sort of giving, voluntarily.
It is good to manage your finances prudently. It is not so good to manage them solely with an eye to your own life.
When I am in a fearful, scarcity-minded state my thoughts become about me. How I can get more money. How I can save more money. How I can be secure.
This self-focus is slightly delusional. It would have you think that you are going to starve if you start to worry less about yourself and more about others. Remember, even if you tithe 10%, which I will admit is a lot, you still have 90% of your budget to take care of yourself. As my girlfriend said, “everything I can do with 100%, I can do with 90%.”
We are going to be okay.
So where does that 10% go, and what good does it to do to give it away instead of saving it?
I think it is a good reminder of my situation in life, and my purpose.
First, it says, “I have enough.” So I can stop stressing about those thoughts of scarcity. I don’t need this money now, and I won’t need it later. I can trust that the world is abundant enough that I will be okay.
Second, it reminds me why I am here. My real purpose isn’t to enrich Nicholas. Nor is it to accumulate a lot of consumptive experiences.
I think the only thing you’re really remembered for when you die is what you gave away during your lifetime. Not just financially, but what you gave others in terms of your time, your love, the acts of service you performed. Were you good? Reliable? Or were you selfish?
What I look for from religion and spirituality is something to pull me out of myself, out of my own self-absorption, and into the world around me. I ask God to help me want what is good, and to let go of what is not. This process helps reveal to me where I could be less selfish, and guides me to embrace inconvenience rather than linger in my own comfort zone.
Was I about me? Or was I about others? The guests at my funeral will have an answer. I hope to live in such a way that I can feel good about what they say.
So when it comes to giving, here’s what I like about giving 10% off the top. Or giving any money off the top. It reminds me who I’m here for. Am I here for me? Or am I here to help and be of service to others? When the first line-item in the budget is giving, it reminds me of what is most important.
What am I, first and foremost? A tax-payer? A mortgagee? A retirement saver? A car-loan payer? A consumer? I hope not. I hope none of those are the identity that people talk about at my funeral.
I’d rather have it said, “he gave his life to others.” He remembered why he was here.
More subjectively, when the money comes in, I like how it feels to have my first thoughts be about giving. The money coming in was not won away or cheated off others. It flowed to me in response to works of service. It came out of the universe and into my bank account. I did not create it.
Maybe this is how it is for a lot of small business owners, but I marvel at where my clients come from. Did I control when and how they came to me? No. In fact, their arrival has mostly come out of the blue. They’re a blessing to me.
There seems to be something beyond myself that I am participating in. Giving keeps me engaged with that flow. Things do flow to me, but they also flow through me. I don’t want to be just a taker. There’s this relationship between me and the world, or me and God, that is nourished when I turn more and more of my attention outward, rather than inward. That’s the perceived experience.
Putting giving as “line item number 1” is proper because it reminds me that my number one priority is to be of service. When I go out and try to find more clients, it helps me to have giving on my mind. I want to win new clients so that I can give a little extra to good causes and good people. Everything flows so much easier this way, without fear.