I give because it is better than being in the 
hospital. Don't worry, this essay is not a not-so-subtle, in-the-spirit-of-Tony-Soprano threat. It's a story about being laid u p in the hospital in August 2012 with an abscess in my spleen.
Throughout July and August of that year, I had what I can only refer to as "rolling fevers." They would come on hard and fast, spike to around 102 degrees or so, and then fade away (with the help of Tylenol or some other fever reducer). This would happen two or three times a day. Typically it would leave me coated in sweat. I showered a lot that summer. At the same time, I was having really severe stomach issues. So my doctor - wondering if this was all connected - sent me in for a CAT scan. Nothing. He sent me back for another CAT scan. Nothing. I was sent for a third one (at this point, I was actually starting to like the flavor of barium sulfate. I highly recommend the vanilla cappuccino flavor) and this one revealed a weird dark mass. But I wasn't told that immediately. Instead I was asked to stick around. I knew something had to be up.
30 minutes later I was taken back to wait for an oncologist. Now, I've never been good at science (okay, maybe physics, but only a little), but I knew what an oncologist was. I was laid back on the exam table, waiting, and when I - rather spontaneously -began to sing "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" over and over again. I had received a Get-Well-Soon card from a dear congregant at Shadyside Presbyterian Church earlier in the week. She had heard that I was battling something and she was the sort of woman who sent cards with hymns photocopied and inserted in them. As I lay there, I waited for "new mercies to see."
Ultimately it wasn't cancer. It was a severe infection in my spleen and it would require a 5-day stay in the hospital and a month or so of daily antibiotics delivered via a PICC line. I would get better - slowly - but this event has clearly stuck with me.
Why do I tell you this in an essay about "Why I Give"? Because giving makes me feel vulnerable in a similar way to illness. Both giving and being ill makes us wonder about the future. They both make us feel a little out of control of our own lives. And both bring us back to the refrain: "Great is thy faithfulness. Great is thy faithfulness. Morning by morning new mercies I see. All I have needed thy hand hath provided. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me."
Life will always find a way to leave us feeling vulnerable and in need of God's love, grace, and mercy. Giving - willing sacrificing our time, talents, and treasures - allows us to practice this vulnerability over and over again so that we are better able to see God's faithfulness when life is out of control. Like I said, I give because it's better than being in the hospital. And my pastoral desire for you is to see you give - not only because the church needs your money and not only because as faithful disciples this is required of you, but because something happens to our character when we give; in short, new mercies start to break in. And when you feel good about giving, this is another sign that our God, who is in the transformation business, is doing something good in your character and soul.
