At the barest minimum, share.

Luke 3.10-11.

After John the baptist rebuked his audience of Pharisees and Sadducees for presuming upon God’s salvation, Matthew tells of no response they made to him. This gospel’s readers could’ve interpreted this omission either optimistically or pessimistically—depending on their own attitudes toward Pharisees and Sadducees. Either the rebukees indignantly stood back and thought mean things about John, like they tend to in the Jesus movies. Or they truly were there to repent and be baptized, same as everybody else. I presume John’s audience had both sorts, just as Christian churches do.

Or instead of Matthew you could read Luke, in which the collective crowd—which still includes those Pharisees and Sadducees—honestly sought to know and follow God better. And since John appeared to know him, they wanted his advice. We wanna repent; tell us how!

John’s response is extremely basic. So simple, Christians are in the bad habit of overlooking it, skipping it, or dismissing it entirely. Don’t do that; it’s important.

Luke 3.10-11 KWL

10The crowd is asking John, “So what might we do?”

11In reply John is telling them,

“If you’re one who has two tunics,

share with one who has none.

One who has food:

Do likewise.”

Why do Christians ignore this? Duh; we don’t wanna do it.

So we call it works righteousness and pretend John never said it; it never happened. Just like polite people respond to a fart in an elevator. We find various ways of hand-waving it away. Back when I was in a Fundamentalist church, our pastor actually told us John’s teachings can be safely ignored because John was from an old dispensation; one in which the Hebrews were saved by obeying the Law of Moses and supplemental good works. Nowadays we call this belief Pelagianism—and it’s heresy because God saves us, and has always saved us, by his grace. Abraham believed God, who graciously counted his belief as righteousness, Ro 4.3, Ga 3.6, Jm 2.23 remember? There is no dispensation of good works; no one has ever earned or merited salvation. If a person were ever as good as Jesus, they don’t need saving anyway! Pelagianism has never not been wrong. And heresy.

Good works don’t save; they’re fruit.

So why did John say if we wanna be saved we gotta do the good deed of sharing with the needy?

Whoa there little buckaroo; back up and read the gospels again. John never said any such thing. He never, ever said good works brought about salvation. Because the people weren’t asking John, “What must I do to be saved?”—they were only asking, “What might we do?” Big difference.

The people weren’t asking John how to be saved. They either presumed they were saved already, or they figured they’d make it sure with John’s baptism. Asking what they might do isn’t about salvation; it’s about following God now that we’re saved. It’s not the horse but the cart.

Really, John’s baptism just represents God’s salvation. Same as it does for us. The act of baptism saves no one; plenty of babies get baptized yet grow up pagan. Plenty of kids make decisions for Jesus in childhood, but grow up and quit Jesus. Baptism represents the fact we, right this minute, want God. Want an authentic relationship with him. Recognize alongside this desire, there needs be a turn away from sin, since sin defies God. How well we do at abandoning sin, varies. But God absolutely wants to take us up on our intent to follow him.

Now, God is fully aware who and what we are. He knows how much we’re gonna suck at abandoning sin. It’s gonna take a lot of tries and failures, and God’s gonna stick with us despite them. Because he knew (way better than we did!) just what he was getting into. So we gotta stop sinning as best we can, and trust the Holy Spirit will help us get better at it. We gotta become active good in this world.

All this sin-abandonment and goodness isn’t the cause of our salvation; it’s the effect. A saved person is gonna act like it. When we don’t, we’re indistinguishable from pagans. Considering how many Evangelicals don’t live any different than pagans, and do just as many good works (or even less!), I have my doubts about how many of ’em are truly Christian, and aren’t just Christianist. But I digress.

Anyway if we’ve really repented, really wanna follow Jesus, are doing our best to have a growing relationship with him (and are getting the Spirit’s help to do so), and if we have wealth and resources… perhaps we oughta embrace Jesus’s gracious mindset. Perhaps we should share.

Sharing is fruity.

God’s kingdom isn’t for stingy people. It certainly doesn’t have a stingy king. Jesus gave up his almightiness, then his life, for us. Lending, or straight-up giving, our spare clothes and food to the needy, is the very least we can do.

The fact John even had to tell his hearers to do this, is just a reminder of the self-centeredness which plagues humanity. Even among Christians, who may not wanna go to hell, but really oughta think about how well we’re preparing for heaven.

The problem, too often, is we’re more about reimagining heaven to suit our greed. When we talk about New Jerusalem, we keep fixating on its pearly gates, streets of gold, and how every Christian is getting a mansion. “Mansion,” they may not realize, was the KJV’s old-timey word for “suite.” But when Jesus says there are many μοναὶ/moné in his Father’s house, Jn 14.2 he properly means “rooms.”

In short, we've brought our avarice and materialism into our End Times imaginings, and think once this life is over, God’s not gonna expect us in kingdom come to continue to resist materialism and greed—in the very way “prosperity gospel” folks currently don’t.

We miss the fact gold is going to become pavement. It’ll be so common it’s lost its value. We’re gonna make toilets out of it, just like St. Thomas More imagined in his 1516 book Utopia. Because who owns what, and how much we can hoard of it, will also lose its value. As things do in a post-scarcity society.

John the baptist may not have known about New Jerusalem, or known very little; few did before Jesus showed it to John the revelator. But John the baptist absolutely had the mindset of God’s kingdom: God’s people need to do for one another, and especially for the needy. If you have enough for two, and your neighbor has enough for none, share! This is how we show we’re children of our Father.

If he’s really our Father, act like him. Do good deeds on his behalf. Show your neighbor he cares, because you demonstrably care. Don’t be one of those wealthy Christians who do nothing for the needy, preach social Darwinism (“those people need to deserve or earn my charity”) instead of grace, and in so doing prove they’re children of Mammon, not YHWH.

Sharing is doable.

Lastly, on my translation of μεταδότω/metadóto as “share” instead of the traditional “give.” Its root word δίδωμι/dídomi indeed means “to give,” but making μετά/metá its prefix changes its meaning “to give for our mutual benefit or enjoyment.” Yeah, this can mean giving away a spare shirt because we like being benevolent, or we know it’ll bring another person relief or joy. But it can just as often mean the shirt is still ours; we’ll get it back once they no longer need it.

The KJV split the difference by translating metadóto as “impart,” which Christians are free to interpret either way. But considering the earliest church’s practice of pooling their possessions—“they had all things common” Ac 4.32 KJV —it appears to me sharing was their mindset, and it originated with John. His students became Jesus’s students; his followers became Jesus’s followers.

Yes Jesus taught them (and us) to outright give, and not expect it back, Lk 6.35 and the first Christians did do that. But they also shared things in common. So for those of us who struggle to give for various reasons—either because we legitimately can’t afford to, or we’re still struggling to break the chains of Mammonism in our lives—okay, start small. Start by sharing.

Anyone can share. Desperately poor people can share. You can share. So if you look at Jesus’s commands to give and keep thinking, “Give what?” you have no such excuse when you share. Got two when your neighbor has none? Share.