outstretched hands

CHARITY ECONOMY: Learning to give and receive

Last updated: November 1st, 2018

Charity… since childhood, this was a word I only whispered in my inner cloister.

Charity… The original radiance of this word has been dulled by the patina of time and by the encroachment of merchant ideology.

Charity… he who asks for it must be a needy person. He who gives charity is a powerful person, a member of the bourgeois, someone well installed in conventional society, someone who is in a position to give—not without patronizing—which legitimizes his or her power or existential posture. As a person from France, my original culture carries in its collective memory the cliché of the good deeds, or the bourgeois in their Sunday best giving to the beggars after church.

Charity… is this word buried forever? If so, we deprive ourselves of a treasure bursting with meaning and filled with history. The light and wisdom that were put in this word bursts to our eyes as soon as we break through the encroachment. In its original sense, caritas is the putting into practice and action of a state of absolute love. This is the love that is no longer directed towards a particular being or thing, this is the love that irradiates, that shines all around, with no distinction, no direction. The manifestation of such love into acts is charity. There we give; there we receive, in the big chain of service that we offer to one another. In that place we are far from the merchant economy, locked as it is in its immediate reciprocity dogma (“if you don’t have what I need in return, I won’t give you what I have“). In the charity economy, we give everything we can give, and we receive what we need. No need for symmetry or immediacy. What is essential is to give in a state of love, with no conditions attached, and to receive in the same way.

Today I no longer whisper this word; instead I can proclaim it in full measure, with exhilaration. It blossoms to the surface of my consciousness just like a waterlily coming from the depths.

Charity… it is through charity that I give today, and through charity that I learn how to receive. Giving is easy. I have skills, knowledge, health, will; many things to offer. At least this is what others tell me. Receiving is where I have much to learn. Not emotionally or spiritually anymore, but practically.

Indeed, receiving in a state of charity confronts me with many obstacles, both imposed on me by society on the one hand, and coming from within me on the other.

Here are some societal questions to start with:

  • How is it possible to live a charity-based life today in a society that has chased it away?
  • How am I going to be able to build relationships and provide services that are neither considered charity (as understood in the modern degraded sense), nor dependency, nor patronage, nor philanthropy?
  • How can I lay out this social contract—to live a charity-based life—in a clear manner? How can it be well communicated?

The gift economy is our natural social contract, the one we have practiced in small communities since the dawn of time, starting with the family. The charity economy is the transposition of gift economy to the cosmic level, with no limits to time, number and space. In “Old Europe” where I live, solidarity is dying due to over-institutionalization. As far as I know, the contemporary social contract does not include the proviso that we can live from charity. Receiving inevitably has something to do with profit (a sale, a salary, an inheritance, an annuity, dividends), or with being assisted. Because of scarce money, our societies don’t have space for spontaneous offering, simple and without claim. We have to declare, subscribe, tax, justify, and fill in forms.

Isn’t it ironic to see how much commercial exchange is deregulated, leading to social and humanitarian catastrophes, whereas solidarity and donations are bound by heavy, costly and blocking control mechanisms? Throughout history, however, collectives have always supported their shamans, their healers, their priests, their monks, their doctors by means of charity. But I am none of these. I am part of no church, I carry no spiritual or political ideology, I have none of the tags that reassure, and this adds spice to my situation. If I were a monk, no one would ask questions. People feel confused about me, and I understand them.

So how, in this context, do I not condemn myself to being marginalized and at risk?

It is a fact that, these past months, my horizon has shifted to be very nearby. Some would call it a precarious lifestyle. Early in September it happened that I had almost nothing left to eat. This was an ironic situation as everything else around me was pure wealth: I was living in a beautiful house in Provence for which one year of rent had been offered, by charity, so I could work calmly and have a space for my little boy. Wealth, because I was surrounded by high-quality electronic hardware to work on my current projects; wealth because my work permanently puts me in touch with magnificent human beings; wealth because I was in full health and completely mobile. And yet, there I was with almost nothing to eat, with a wallet as empty as the shopping basket.

Support arrived at just the right moment, in its perfection, by the path of the heart. Wonderful people gave to me. Why? Certainly not because they were feeding the indigent—as a reminder I chose my current situation, it is not the result of an accident. These people gave to me because they knew I could then continue my work in the greater chain of service. In the end, it is this simple. Do ut des, I give so you can give, says this beautiful Latin expression. Charity is a big chain.

Each time these situations of apparent precariousness have shown up, I have never feared, not for a single moment. There have been no sleepless nights. Fear left me a long time ago.

And this is an opportunity to awaken another ancient word: providence. From the Latin providentia—foresight. Providence implies direct knowing, beyond the reductive beams of the intellect, that everything is just, everything is in its right place, and that everything will happen in its right time. Providence is the universal mechanism in which a being, if he or she is in a state of grace, therefore in service, will receive support in return. The being knows it. In order for providence to operate, one has to completely, fully, joyfully surrender, without restriction, to the laws of the Universe. The let go has to be complete.

Here, another ancient Christian notion, the one of sacrifice, is important. It’s yet another word that has been depreciated by modernity. Its original meaning is “to make sacred” (from the Latin sacrificium, of sacer facere). Once one has completely offered himself or herself to this Universal Principle, each moment of life is lived like a present. A pure state of grace—and grace feeds grace.

[su_panel background=”#f2f2f2″ color=”#000000″ border=”0px none #ffffff” shadow=”0px 0px 0px #ffffff”]A few years ago Jean-François Noubel decided to dedicate his life to Collective Intelligence, Wisdom and Consciousness (CIWC). He created TheTransitioner.org, a non-profit R&D organization that gathers pioneers who have embarked towards the next humanity. Transitioners embody the transition between the “old” conventional world and the next one to come.  He travels around the world giving seminars and conferences, and working on R&D programs to develop global collective intelligence and to help large organizations and their leaders evolve toward wisdom-centered approaches.

image: lusi