Almsgiving isn’t optional in Orthodox Christianity. It’s a commanded practice that works together with prayer and fasting to heal your soul and unite you with God.
If you grew up Baptist or non-denominational around here, you probably heard a lot about tithing and supporting missions. That’s not wrong, but the Orthodox understanding goes deeper. We don’t give to the poor just because it’s a nice thing to do or because we want to support good programs. We give because Christ commanded it, because the poor are Christ Himself, and because generosity is medicine for the disease of greed that infects all of us.
The Three-Legged Stool
The Church Fathers consistently taught that prayer, fasting, and almsgiving form a single spiritual discipline. You can’t do just one or two and expect the full benefit. Prayer turns your heart toward God. Fasting disciplines your body and breaks the tyranny of your appetites. And almsgiving? That’s where the rubber meets the road. It forces you to actually let go of what you’re clinging to.
St. John Chrysostom was blunt about this. He said fasting without almsgiving is worthless. You can skip every meal during Lent, but if you’re not sharing what you save with someone who needs it, you’re just on a diet. The point isn’t to feel hungry. The point is to become the kind of person who notices hunger in others and does something about it.
Not Social Work
Here’s where Orthodoxy parts ways with a purely social-service approach. We’re not just trying to solve poverty or make society more equitable (though those aren’t bad goals). We’re trying to become like Christ. When you give to someone in need, you’re encountering Jesus. “I was hungry and you gave me food.” That’s not a metaphor. It’s how the Kingdom works.
This means Orthodox charity always has a spiritual dimension. We’re concerned with the whole person, body and soul. We give material help, yes. But we also pray for those we help. We see them as icons of Christ, not as problems to fix or statistics to improve. And we recognize that the transaction goes both ways. The poor person isn’t just receiving from you. They’re giving you an opportunity to be healed of selfishness.
St. Basil the Great put it starkly: “The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry. The coat unused in your closet belongs to the one who needs it. The shoes rotting in your closet belong to the one who has no shoes. The money which you hoard up belongs to the poor.” That’s not guilt-tripping. It’s just reality. If someone needs it and you don’t, it’s already theirs. You’re just the delivery system.
How to Actually Do It
So what does this look like in practice? The Gospels are clear: don’t make a show of it. “Don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.” Give quietly when you can. Anonymous donations through your parish are good. Slipping cash to someone without making them feel small is good. Dropping off groceries without expecting thanks is good.
But direct, face-to-face giving matters too. Sometimes the poor need more than money. They need to be seen, to be treated like human beings, to have someone look them in the eye. That’s harder than writing a check. It costs you something emotionally. That’s probably why it’s more spiritually valuable.
Your parish likely has systems in place for this, benevolence funds, connections with local shelters, food pantries, families in crisis. Use them. The Church has been doing this for two thousand years. You don’t have to reinvent the wheel. And giving through the Church keeps you accountable. It’s harder to be proud about your generosity when you’re doing it as part of a community.
One practical bit: during fasting seasons, many Orthodox Christians calculate what they save by eating simpler food and give that amount away. If you’re not buying meat or eating out, you’ve got extra money. It belongs to someone who’s hungry not by choice but by necessity.
The Pride Problem
There’s a trap here, and the Fathers warned about it constantly. You can give generously and still be spiritually sick if you’re doing it to feel good about yourself or to be praised. “Look how charitable I am.” That’s poison. It turns a healing medicine into a source of pride, which is worse than not giving at all.
This is why the Church emphasizes secrecy and humility in almsgiving. If you find yourself wanting people to know about your generosity, that’s a red flag. Confess it. Ask your priest about it. The goal is to give so naturally, so quietly, that you almost forget you did it. Like breathing.
What It Does to You
Almsgiving changes you. That’s the point. It loosens the grip that money and possessions have on your heart. It trains you to see other people’s needs as more important than your comfort. It makes you a little more like Christ, who gave everything.
The Church teaches that we’re being saved, not that we got saved at some altar call years ago. Salvation is a process. Theosis, becoming united with God, happens gradually as we’re healed and transformed. Almsgiving is part of that process. Every time you give sacrificially, you’re cooperating with God’s grace. You’re letting Him remake you into someone capable of love.
And here’s the mystery: when you give to the poor, you’re not just helping them. You’re receiving Christ. He’s present in the hungry person, the homeless guy at the gas station, the single mom who can’t make rent. Serving them is serving Him. Ignoring them is ignoring Him. It’s that simple and that serious.
If you’re new to Orthodoxy, start small. You don’t have to solve every problem or give away everything tomorrow. But start. Find one person, one need, one opportunity. Give quietly. Pray for them. Let it cost you something. Then do it again. The Church will guide you. Your priest can help you discern how much to give and how to give wisely. But don’t wait until you have it all figured out. The poor are with us now. Christ is with us now. Start today.
