Is 2020 the Worst Year Ever, or ‘Such A Time As This’?

Generosity lessons of 2020: Like Esther, this challenging time forces a choice between silence and sacrifice

Over the past six months, I’ve heard friends and coworkers talk about how much they want this year to end. Between the COVID pandemic, economic uncertainty, racial unrest, political polarization and unrelenting natural disasters, many people have called 2020 the worst year ever.

The calendar won’t provide much relief. Most of those challenges won’t disappear just because we turn the page on 2020. If anything, some of them may get worse before they get better.

As much as I share the desire to get back to “normal” life, that feels too easy. If we are able to simply move on, we won’t find solutions to our most pressing problems. We will fail to wrestle with the realities of systemic racism, a growing wealth gap and a truth crisis.

Rather than hunker down, we need to step out of our bubbles and step into the mess of 2020. We should stop waiting for this year to end, and start asking whether God has prepared us for such a time as this.

Esther’s Choice: Silence vs. Sacrifice

In his book “Money, Possessions and Eternity,” Randy Alcorn points to the biblical story of Esther to outline the responsibilities that come with riches. Esther, a Jewish orphan who rises to become queen, finds out about a plot to kill all Jews. When her cousin, Mordecai, pleads with her to intervene, Esther hesitates because she can’t approach the king uninvited. It might cost Esther her life.

Mordecai rebukes his royal cousin. “For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish,” he says. “And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?”

Pastor Tony Evans argues that the “such a time as this” passage doesn’t illustrate God’s favor toward Esther. Rather, she “was being scolded for her self-indulgent, self-preserving mindset.” In her reluctance to get involved, Esther chose silence over sacrifice. Mordecai challenged Esther to think about her calling, not her comfort.

Similarly, Alcorn argues that Christians living in the greatest-ever era of wealth creation have been blessed with abundance for a divine purpose. 

“It’s no accident that you live in this time and place in history,” he writes. “Remind yourself again why the God of providence has entrusted you with so much: ‘Your plenty will supply what they need.’”

It’s no accident that we live in 2020. This is “such a time as this.” 

The Risks of ‘Shelter in Place’

In a year when we’ve been encouraged to “shelter in place,” it’s tempting to prioritize self-preservation. In many ways, it feels like a victory just to make it through this year. 

Like Esther, we face a difficult choice in 2020. We can ignore the dangerous world around us, hide in our proverbial palaces, and hoard our resources until this difficult time passes. Or we can recognize our calling, leave our comfortable shelters, and use our royal positions to help a hurting world. 

As I contemplate the story of Esther and its relevance to the challenges we face in 2020, I can’t shake Mordecai’s warning that Esther’s silence would lead to her own demise. “Do not think to yourself that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews,” he says just before his famous “such a time as this” line. Despite all the trappings of royalty, Esther wasn’t insulated from danger. 

That irony feels just as true today. If we prioritize our short-term individual comfort, it will come back to hurt us even more in the long run when our silence causes even more suffering. None of us will be spared.

Three Generosity Lessons from 2020 

I’ve wrestled with the Esther dilemma myself this year, often finding it easier to withdraw than engage in its most pressing challenges. But through that struggle, God has taught me three important lessons about generosity during times of crisis.

Prepare to be generous

In late 2019, thanks to a personal financial windfall, I “pre-tithed” three years’ worth of giving through a donor-advised fund. I did this primary for the immediate tax benefits, but in the context of a long-term financial plan. Rather than tithe on my regular income, I planned to give monthly to my church through the DAF, increasing cash flow for new investments.

But God had other plans for that money.

When COVID-19 hit in March, my church set a goal to raise $250,000 for a relief fund that would provide free groceries and toiletries in the community. At a time when millions of Americans were unemployed, I was sitting on a large sum of money that had already been earmarked in an irrevocable way for charitable giving. 

I kept thinking about Esther. Did God coincidentally bless me with abundance six months before COVID so I could establish a three-year financial plan? Or did he prepare me financially for such a time as this?

Rather than spread out our giving over three years, my wife and I gave half of the pre-tithe to the COVID relief effort — 18 months of normal tithing at once. It brought 2 Corinthians 9:11 to life: “You will be made rich in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion.” It’s another important reminder of why charitable giving deserves a place in every budget. We need to be prepared to give when unexpected needs arise, which means structuring our finances to leave room for spontaneous giving.  

Be generous with privilege

In the wake of the George Floyd police killing, I wrote about how generosity shouldn’t end with wealth. It must also include power and privilege, especially in the face of injustice. Like the rich fool who hoarded resources, we can also hoard privilege to protect our own financial security in a way that denies opportunities for others. 

As an executive at a growing company, I’ve been convicted this year about my failure of leadership when it comes to advancing diversity in my workplace. While I have personally fought for racial justice in my church community for years, I haven’t made it a priority in my professional life. 

Many of the challenges my company faces in this journey of greater diversity, equity and inclusion are surfacing now, at the end of 2020, as we conclude a season of introspection and an independent evaluation of our practices. Although certainly not intentional, it’s becoming painfully clear that our employees of color don’t experience our company and culture in the same way white employees do. They feel a divide and perceive an unequal playing field. 

Now I face an Esther-like choice. As a white male leader, do I use my power to preserve the status quo because it’s easier and more beneficial to me? Or do I use my privilege to fight for a more equitable workplace, even though it might require relational, emotional and financial sacrifice? 

Heading into 2021, I’m committing to being generous with my privilege. God placed me in a royal position at my company, and it’s time to intervene.

Diversify charitable giving

On Election Day 2018, I warned about the danger of letting partisan ideology dictate philanthropy. Unfortunately, the extreme politically divisiveness of 2020 has only made our worldviews more insular, which doesn’t bode well for giving more money to people who don’t look like us. 

Just like Esther faced a dilemma on how to respond to the mass murder of the Jews thousands of years ago, we must choose how to respond to the systemic oppression in our black communities in 2020. After a year marred by killings of black people at the hands of those in power, I can’t stay silent.

In 2021, I will restructure my personal finance budget to make my charitable giving more diverse. On top of our regular tithe, my wife and I decided to give 5 percent of our gross income next year to ministries committed to racial justice. And like our tithe, we plan to increase that percentage over time as we seek to climb the ladder of generosity. 

Worst Year Ever or Wake-Up Call?

When Esther first saw Mordecai grieving at the gates of the palace over the fate of the Jewish people, the queen tried to give him clothes. Embarrassed by her cousin making a public spectacle of himself in sackcloth and ashes, she tried to get him to stop. Only after Mordecai refused the garments did Esther bother to ask why he was mourning in the first place. 

The protest bothered Esther more than the problem, a mentality pervasive in our society today. She lived in the isolation of the palace, protected by wealth and power, and didn’t understand what was happening to her people on the streets. She lost touch with reality, and in the process lost her compassion. 

Mordecai popped Esther’s bubble with his “such a time as this” admonishment, and she responded by saving her people from annihilation. As wealthy modern-day Christians, who knows whether we have not come into riches, privilege and power for such a time as 2020? 

As this difficult year comes to a close, let’s not focus on how 2020 might be the worst year ever. Instead, let’s use this terrible time in history as the wake-up call we all need to step outside our palace walls.