Sirach 35:12-17; Psalm 84:1-6; II timothy 4:6-8, 16-18; Luke 18:9-14
The Rev. Candice B. Frazer
Most of us value generosity. We strive to be generous people, and we admire those who embody generosity in the world. We recognize those who are generous with their time and money as well as those who are generous of spirit. We think of them as kind and unselfish, always willing to lend a hand and help out when someone is in need. Generosity, typically, feels good. It lifts us up whether we are the ones giving or witnessing the generosity of another. We even say things like, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”
Philosophers have spent centuries reflecting on why generosity matters. Two of the most famous ethical perspectives on this are Aristotle’s virtue ethics and Kant’s duty-based ethics.
Aristotle saw generosity as part of the pursuit of a good and flourishing life. For him, generosity was not about following rules but about perfecting one’s character. A generous person gives for the right reasons, in the right way, and in the right measure. Giving is a reflection of inner harmony. The generous person wants to help others and finds joy in doing so. Generosity, for Aristotle, is an act of nobility and balance, a way of expressing virtue.
Immanuel Kant, on the other hand, understood generosity not as a matter of character or feeling, but as a duty. He believed that we should give because it is the right thing to do. For Kant, we are morally obligated to promote the happiness of others, especially because we would want someone to help us if we were in need. But our generosity must be guided by reason and law, not by emotion or reward according to Kant. It is our duty, not our desire, that gives moral worth to our actions.
In short, Aristotle would say we help our neighbor because it feels good. Kant would say we help our neighbor, even when we don’t feel like it, because it is our moral duty. Aristotle’s implications for giving are tied to emotional response whereas Kant’s are simply about moral obligation.
Neither of these is wrong. They simply describe different motivations for generous behavior. All of us have used by of these reasons to account for our own generosity. At times we act generously in the world because we know that giving feels good. Other times, we are motivated to be generous because it is the “right” thing to do.
We hear echoes of these philosophies in today’s reading from Sirach. “Give to the Most High as he has given you, and as generously as you can afford. For the Lord is the one who repays, and he will repay you sevenfold.” Giving as generously as you can afford sounds rather Aristotelian. And giving in order to receive sounds like Kant. Giving out of virtue or moral obligation is not a bad thing. But, I wonder, as Christians, are we invited to think about generosity in a deeper, more transformative way.
Christianity is not primarily about perfecting one’s character, as Aristotle would have it, nor is it primarily about fulfilling one’s duty, as Kant insists. Instead, the heart of Christian ethics is imitating God’s self-giving love. For us, generosity is not merely a response to virtue or moral obligation: it is a response to divine love and grace. It’s less about what we give and more about why we give.
Consider the parable that Jesus tells this morning. A Pharisee and a tax collector go to the Temple to pray. The Pharisee starts exalting himself, “I’m so great. I do all the things. I fast. I give a tenth of my income. TBTG I’m not like this tax collector.” The tax collector, by contrast, stands at a distance, beating his breast, and saying, “Woe is me. I’m such a sinner. Grant me mercy for all the bad things that I do.”
The Pharisee is generous in duty, but not in spirit. He gives because he is supposed to; it is what the law requires. But his generosity is rooted in pride, not love. His prayer centers on himself: his achievements, his moral superiority. His giving is not an act of compassion but a performance of righteousness. His comparison of himself to others—thieves, rogues, adulterers, even tax collectors—does not stem from a place of humility, much less a generosity of spirit. It carries no expression of love. He may practice generosity as an act of moral obligation because that is what is written in the Torah, but he has no understanding of the transformative power of a generous spirit rooted in love. That is why his prayers are centered on himself, and his giving looks like a bribe. Instead of self-congratulation, if he understood that transformative power of love, his prayers would reflect an awareness that all goodness flows from God.
The tax collector, on the other hand, offers a prayer of repentance. Tax collectors were notorious for their greed and exploitation of others. They were Jewish representatives of the Romans, collecting taxes from their neighbors and kinsmen to give to Caesar. Whatever extra they collected, they could keep. So, they often collected more than they were supposed to. They were despised as traitors and extortionists.
The tax collector in Jesus’ parable seems to be repenting of these sins. His prayer and worship are less about himself and more about God. His inner disposition is marked by humility. He does not justify himself or defend his behavior, he confesses it. In doing so, he demonstrates a kind of spiritual generosity—not about money, but honesty, humility, and surrender. He is generous in admitting his need for God, generous in letting go of his pride; pointing out his own shadows. His prayer is not self-centered but God-centered. He desires participation in God’s kingdom.
In this parable, Jesus redefines what it means to be exalted and humble. True generosity, he suggests, is not virtue or obligation, it is about love expressed through humility.
Generosity is not about pride or virtue as Aristotle understands it. Nor is it about duty or law as Kant might argue. True generosity is an outward expression of love grounded in humility; decentering the ego and re-centering on God.
Where Aristotle might only give to those who deserve it, and Kant only to those who will use it responsibly, Jesus calls us to give to everyone—even our enemies, even the undeserving. It is not about personal virtues or moral duty, but divine love. Generosity is not about worth, it is about grace.
Generosity, then, is not just an ethical action; it is an act of worship. It moves us from self-centeredness to God-centeredness. This is the key difference between the Pharisee and the tax collector: one worships himself; the other worships God. Generosity de-centers the ego and opens space for divine transformation. It teaches us humility, and humility allows us to receive the grace that changes us.
In this season of stewardship, we are called to discern not just how much we give, but why we give. Giving reflects a generosity of spirit bound up in love rather than simply a demonstration of virtue or a response to an obligation. Christian stewardship is always about love. As Bishop Michael Curry likes to say, “If it’s not about love, it’s not about God.” If stewardship is about love, then it is about God. Not about money; not even about the church. But about a direct relationship we want to have with God.
If it helps, as you prayerfully discern what you might give this year in your own act of stewardship, your own act of worship, ask yourself these three questions:
– Is my generosity and pledge merely a demonstration of virtue?
– Is it a sense of duty or obligation?
– Or, am I giving to the church as an act of love—a reflection of the generosity of God and all that God has given to me?
As Christians, we give not out of virtue or obligation. We always give out of love. We always give as an act of worship.
Amen.