Don't Be Careful

Today, reflect on this free-wheeling reading of Jesus’s warm invitation to a generous life, asking yourself what the Spirit is saying to you.

Into this world comes Yeshua, with the love song to all that is ringing continually in him, and he says: don’t be careful.

He certainly isn’t careful himself. He and his friends come wandering into town on the holy Saturday when you’re not supposed to work or to travel, or to do anything much, and they’re chewing and laughing, they’re picnicking in the street as they stroll along. Challenged, he says (with his mouth full) that the rules are for the people, not the people for the rules. When crowds gather, to check out this new source of entertainment or outrage, to see if he’s conducting himself like a teacher or a prophet or just possibly like a guerrillero looking for recruits – when the crowds gather, he sits them down in the sheep pasture, and he says: behave as if you never had to be afraid of consequences. Behave as if nothing you gave away could ever make you poorer, because you can never run out of what you give. Behave as if this one day we’re in now were the whole of time, and you didn’t have to hold anything back, or to plot and scheme about tomorrow.

Don’t try to grip your life with tight, anxious hands. Unclench those fingers. Let it go. If someone asks for your help, give them more than they’ve asked for. If someone hits out at you, let them. Don’t retaliate. Be the place the violence ends. Because you’ve got it wrong about virtue. It isn’t something built up from a thousand careful, carefully measured acts. It comes, when it comes, in a rush; it comes from behaving, so far as you can, like God Himself, who makes and makes and loves and loves and is never the less for it. God doesn’t want your careful virtue. He wants your reckless generosity. Try to keep what you have, and you’ll lose even that. Give it away, and you’ll get back more than you bargain for; more than bargaining could ever get you.

- Francis Spufford, Unapologetic