One of the best parts about my current position as a minister to youth, children, and families is Friday mornings, when I get to help out as a social-emotional learning specialist at our church’s Preschool. It’s heartwarming to watch the kids take turns; sharing, and affirming each others’ stories. One Friday, one of the kids was filling out a “feelings chart” with me, and one really wanted to write her own name on the bottom of the paper, but she only wanted to use the ballpoint pen that I had been using, not a regular marker. “Why don’t you just use one of the regular markers, since this is my pen?” I said. And without skipping a beat, she said, “Mr. Josh, sharing is caring!” 

What could I say to that? I relinquished my pen with a chuckle. 

Clearly after a few years in a formal pre-schooling program, these children have learned the “rules of engagement” in a school setting, both spoken and unspoken. Classrooms, like any cohesive group, are like living organisms that seek stasis, or balance. Once the skills have been developed, they can begin to self-regulate, and the kids can even help each other re-calibrate. In education, these are traditionally referred to as the essential learning tasks of “socialization.” We might just call it, “learning how to live together.”

But then, kids get older. Life ramps up in complexity. And at some point, there is a shift in the teacher’s primary focus: from socialization, to attaining or exceeding benchmarks. School over time increasingly focuses on grades and achievements, all meant to prepare young people for the demands of the “real world.” 

Like us, the Roman-dominated world of the New Testament was one of “haves” and ‘have-nots.” But within this setting, the first followers of Jesus in Jerusalem after Pentecost sought to center their lives together around the community table, worshiping together, eating together as equals, and most radically, giving up all their possessions and distributing the proceeds – not just among each other but among “all, as any who had need” (Acts 2:45). They sought to create a community defined by “sharing is caring!”

As the Gospel spread throughout the Mediterranean, that community in Jerusalem continued its practice of living-together in balance. In 2nd Corinthians, we see Paul asking other communities if they would help support the work the Jerusalem church was doing to care for the poor. The Macedonian churches were not that well off themselves, and yet instead of complaining, or offering excuses, they gave generously (2 Cor 8:2). In the passage for today (8:7-15), Paul is now asking the more well-off Corinthian church to follow suit—not by commanding them, but rather by encouraging them to give out of generosity and love, and to see themselves as part of a wider community of Jesus-followers.

The NRSV distinguishes the “generous act” of Jesus (v. 9), from the “gift” (v. 12) of the people, which does clarify that Paul is indeed asking for money. But as a result, we miss that these are in fact the same word, “grace”! In this context, the word has both financial and spiritual implications. Grace is the movement of the living spirit of God, the lifeblood of the living church, that calls us to live truly generous lives together, and to seek balance. (As Gustavo Gutiérrez teaches, the Spanish word gratuidad does a better job of capturing this fuller theological meaning.)

Paul anticipates the potential reaction of the Corinthians (v.13), which may well echo the concerns of modern readers today: “No, you do not have to give until you all become ‘have-nots.’ I’m just asking you all to live in greater balance with your sister church, as you are all part of the same family of the Spirit. And in turn, you will experience blessing out of their abundance.”

Could we imagine Paul speaking to us and our churches, as well? 

In a world of competition – which over time, becomes a world marred by violence and violent rhetoric – what might “living in community together” look like? 

What lessons for life together are deep in our bones, that we have forgotten? 

Where do you feel out of balance? What abundance do you have that you can offer up? Where do you feel deficient and in need of someone else’s grace? 

How might we invite our faith communities to live in grace with others – and how might doing so better prepare us for what lies ahead?