Students of the Sufi path may know that there are a number of qualities that begin to shine as one advances toward the goal, such as modesty, courage, hospitality, kindness, and generosity to name just a few. These virtues serve as the media through which the art of personality is expressed. One might think of them as jewels that the Creator uses to adorn His Creation. But like everything considered precious, there is the real and the counterfeit: real gold and false, real gems and cut glass. To a casual glance, they are similar, but on closer inspection, and especially over time, the false will always fail the test. That is why we read in the Bowl of Saki (September 23), “’There are two kinds of generosity, the real and the shadow; the former is prompted by love, the latter by vanity.’” This saying was the subject of a recent conversation, and as usually happens when friends talk together, the various points of view brought much light to the theme.

There was, first of all, agreement that the world needs generosity; it may seem paradoxical that though we live in an age of materialism, with extravagant signs of wealth everywhere, there are millions in the world without enough to eat, with no shelter, no clothing, no clean water, no safety and no medical care. If we wish to approach the goal of Unity, for which we repeat the Invocation, saying ‘Toward the One…’, then we should feel a duty to give whatever we can to help. What use would our own illumination be if all our neighbours were suffering?

A second point, though, is that the generosity that is prompted by vanity inevitably comes at a price. Vanity could be described as a desire to be seen and admired, and vain generosity puts a constraint on the recipient. One may give a hungry beggar a meal but if it comes with an expectation that the person must listen to a sermon, adopt a religion or show a certain behaviour toward the one who gives, then the gift is tainted.

It is for this reason that the impulse should arise from the heart and not from our pride. Being conscious of our own generosity is a danger for those on the path, with the real risk of self-obsession and an inflamed ego, a very painful condition, and all the more regrettable for being self inflicted.

Nor should we rely on generosity that is dictated by concepts; the mind is a useful tool but only when the heart leads. When the mind is in charge, the heart has little opportunity to serve the ideals of love and beauty.

To be truly generous, then, requires an open heart from which the stream of love may flow, and also a trusting recognition of the infinite abundance of the Creator. Most of the sadness of life is caused by a feeling of insufficiency in ourselves and in our surroundings, the fear that there is not enough. If we would learn to trust the loving embrace of the Divine, we would discover that the impulse to give arises from His infinite Compassion, and what we pass on to others was never ours in the first place. Thus real generosity expresses what we read in Vadan Alankaras: “Let me feel Thy embrace, Beloved, on all planes of existence.”