My friend Paul spoke today about something he called radical generosity. I am not new to the overall topic but I appreciated how a simple use of language can help shape whole ways of thinking.

Neither of these two words should puzzle us. We all know that the term “radical” means something entirely substantial, thorough or extreme. A radical shift is a complete shift in the fundamentals. A reorientation top to bottom. And “generosity” refers to giving a lot, more than what is normally called for. Being generous also has an element of kindness attached to it. Put the two of them together and it’s worth sitting up to pay attention.

I’m guessing that most of us would not consider ourselves or our attitudes and behavior radical in any sense. We would self-describe as more moderate, not given to extremes suggested by such a fiery term. (Perhaps, though, as we become increasingly polarized and angry as a people, moderation is in the outs.)

I wonder how many of us would consider ourselves generous as a matter of practice. I’m guessing it’s somewhat dependent upon the situation. It also may be dependent upon the standard we’d assign to our own set of attitudes and behaviors.

But radical generosity? I know some incredibly kind people. Caring and compassionate. I know people who give a lot. But being giving and generous are not exactly the same thing.

So, what does this all mean?

If we consider that generosity (especially in the context of this reflection) is something beyond the norm, then we cross the line into different territory. Fundamentally, generosity is the giving away of something valuable, a sacrifice of sorts, with no expectation of return. When we give of something with the expectation of some benefit, I don’t think that qualifies. Generosity is the shift of a weight of value from us to others, presumably leaving a deficit at our end. But, curiously, the math doesn’t need to work out that way.

In the math of this world, we are called to live within something akin to the “zero sum game.” This is best described as a large pie with only so many pieces. Our job is to get the most pie. We look at people with more or bigger pieces and we covet their good fortune, thinking, “if only.” We look at people with fewer or smaller pieces and we can run the range of emotions, from pity or sympathy to indifference or scorn. Maybe, sometimes, we think, “if only.”

The math of this world is anxious about generosity. Giving something of value without expectation of return is risky business, perhaps best applied very close to home. We tend to have more control over things close to home as we manage our generosity with a careful eye. We naturally pay attention to that pie because, “well, you know.”

Let’s step out of that reality and into another for a little bit. A reality where we insert an x factor or variable into this equation that changes the whole thing. A reality where there is no zero sum and the source of our motivation shifts, even radically so. What then?

I’m talking about love, of course, and more specifically, its radical expression that we call grace.

I have written a lot about these two things. The many different types of love as well as the things we say we love but don’t actually mean “love” in the most profound sense. Grace comes along as an outlier. Simply, it’s a threat to the pie. It doesn’t make sense. It’s generosity on steroids.

An example: Doting grandparents may lavish gifts upon beloved grandchildren. These gifts may even cost more than the grandparent should spend and this would be considered quite (if not overly) generous. But, let’s be honest. Grandparents in our normal framework are supposed to be lavish and who would not want generous grandparents? There is a big love exchange and that makes the transaction appropriate. We’re on the right track here.

But, it’s a stretch from this kind of normal situation to the thing my friend Paul referred to as radical generosity. And, that’s where grace comes in to supercharge the whole thing and land us in just a plainly different place.

If we use a common definition of grace as a gift freely given but undeserved, then we need to give attention to the undeserved side of the equation. It’s not difficult to conclude that people with whom we are close … family and dear friends, for instance … “deserve” our gifts. After all, that’s what we do. But, what stranger with whom we have little or no relationship, “deserves” our generosity? And, I don’t just mean money. But time, interest and care? All of those are resources, the giving away of which create a deficit on our part. Unless.

When Paul said today that “grace motivates generosity,” I knew immediately what he was talking about. As easily as 1+1=2. Grace is the fuel that drives the generosity engine. Why is this significant?

Well, first of all we need to come to a place where we believe that a generous spirit is a righteous spirit. Where we accept that a posture of hoarding for ourselves has limited and even unhealthy ramifications. Absent that, it’s tough to think that generosity is of much interest.

But, that brings about the problem of running out of gas. Sustained generosity is difficult. Unless there’s that limitless reservoir of fuel.

I suspect if someone has never experienced real grace, it’s difficultly to comprehend how powerful a motivator it is. And, it’s not the kind of motivator that pushes from behind but, instead, pulls from ahead. The compulsion is not “I have to” but “I get to.” And, my word, that’s a world changer.

Which brings us to that radical thing. When one lives within a reality suffused with grace, then the picture changes and it is a foundational change. When each breath is a gift, as I frequently reflect, that pie disappears into the mist, to be replaced by a heart and mind tuned to another objective. It becomes natural to let go of some things the world would describe as valuable to give to others when the very air we breathe is received wondrously.

As I make my way through this life, deeply flawed as I am, I lament how far I fall short of being a truly gracious man. I seek security and safety and material well-being. Admittedly, I don’t think any of these things is wrong in and of themselves. However, to the degree they control us and prevent us from being generous, is the degree to which I  believe we are making a wrong turn at the daily fork in the road.

Our God was and is radically generous. He knows our limitations but asks us to trust him, receive his gift and be eternally transformed. I can testify that he gets the math right.

Walking through that door is a risky thing. I know. I spent year after year looking at it from all angles, sometimes from afar and sometimes up incredibly close. I sensed during all of that time that there was something wrong with all of the math. Walking through, no wonder. Radical generosity was waiting and it was and is glorious.