Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, March 31, 1991 TAG: 9103280214
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: E1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: LAURA SESSIONS STEPP/ THE WASHINGTON POST
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
The Judeo-Christian understanding of sacrifice as a personal, ongoing obligation to God and the larger community has been replaced by a secular, often temporary altruism, according to charity directors, social scientists and volunteers.
Americans talk about "giving back something" rather than "giving up something," and many say they do good because it makes them feel good.
The new attitudes, based primarily on allegiance to self and family, have forced charitable institutions to redesign their programs and their pitch, the specialists say.
"I never use the word sacrifice. I talk about people using their talents," said Kathy King, Catholic Charities fund-raiser for the San Francisco area.
Jon Griffin, an electrical engineer in Montgomery County, Md., is typical of the new giver. "There are a lot of things I do that I wouldn't call sacrifice," he said, "like not watching TV for a night and riding around in a van for the House of Ruth," a Washington, D.C., organization that distributes food to the needy.
Griffin, who said he is not a religious person, decided to go on a 1,000-calorie-a-day diet during the 40 days before Easter that Christians call Lent. He eats a sandwich at lunch, wolfs down a spare supper of chicken and salad and indulges in one martini. "I do it because it is good for me," he said.
Currently, political leaders are championing the notion of sacrifice - from President Bush's comforting the families of soldiers who died in the Persian Gulf War to D.C. school officials promoting mandatory community service.
Christian ministers have asked their flocks to give up something during Lent; Muslim imams have exhorted the faithful to fast during Ramadan; Jewish rabbis will call their congregations at Passover to remember what their ancestors abandoned as they left Egypt.
Yet there is little in this rhetoric that recommends giving until it hurts, with the exception of the fallen soldiers. "If sacrifice means giving up something central in your lives for a greater good, there's none of that," said Donald Montagna, a minister with the Washington Ethical Society. "People are just cutting the fat."
Princeton sociologist Robert Wuthnow recently surveyed 2,000 volunteers on why they volunteered. He divided the sample in half and asked the same question in two ways.
To the first group he asked, Was "wanting to give of themselves" an important reason they volunteered? Fifty percent said yes. To the other group he asked, Was "sacrificing some of themselves" important? Only 15 percent said yes.
"The language of sacrifice has dropped out entirely, even among volunteers," Wuthnow said.
What some are saying is they don't want to be uncomfortable for very long. "Our biggest increase is companies, churches, associations who want a one-shot or one-day kind of thing," said James Lindsay, executive director of D.C.'s Volunteer Clearinghouse.
Another indication that ongoing sacrifice is unpopular: Protestant church-goers, asked to tithe 10 percent of their income to the church, now give proportionately less than they did during the Depression, according to Empty Tomb, an anti-poverty organization in Urbana, Ill.
John Ronsvalle, who operates Empty Tomb with his wife, Sylvia, said society's problems are so great that it's going to take sustained sacrifices on the part of many Americans to alleviate them.
The Ronsvalles have witnessed Americans' changing attitudes toward sacrifice on a personal level. Ten years ago they moved from a comfortable suburban home into a low-income housing project to experience firsthand the problems of the poor.
"We were considered noble at first; now people look on us as if we're strange," she said.
Why has sacrifice lost its meaning?
Doug Bandow, senior fellow at the Cato Institute, says Americans are tired of hearing politicians misuse and overuse the word. They see little evidence that sacrifices of the past, such as higher taxes for large government programs, have done much good.
Will Marshall, of the Progressive Policy Institute, assigns blame to domestic policies of the last 11 years that "have rarely called for sacrifice or self-denial except from the politically weak."
The Rev. Henri Nouwen, a popular Roman Catholic author who is Dutch, points to an American psychology that worships the individual.
Historian Arthur Schlesinger Jr. said Americans are at the end of a 30-year cycle of self-absorption. But he sees signs that generosity may be coming back in style.
A Gallup survey released this year by the Independent Sector, a coalition of foundation and volunteer groups, tends to bear him out: It showed that the average donating household gave $978, or 2.5 percent of household income, in 1989 to non-profit causes. That amounted to a 13 percent increase over 1987 donations, after inflation.
Individual charities across the country report similar small upswings.
Another shift is taking place on college campuses.
Eric Dey, a researcher with UCLA, which has surveyed the attitudes of college freshmen for 20 years, said he and his colleagues have detected "rising levels of altruism" during the last couple of years.
Henry Burgoyne III, for example, a 1990 Georgetown graduate in finance, turned down several offers and chose to spend this year with the Jesuit volunteer corps in Nicaragua.
In a recent letter to a Georgetown dean, he shared what he has sacrificed and misses: "Ben and Jerry's coffee Heathbar crunch ice cream, Sunday football, family and friends, pizza, big cities with crowded streets, autumn leaves."
But sacrifice has rewards, he wrote: "Many new friends, learning I can do [and do without] helping others, appreciation of what I have, recognition that people worlds apart are basically the same."
Yet small increases in charitable giving and individual, Jesuit-trained financiers do not a groundswell make. Foundation executives note that giving levels are not where they were in the 1960s.
And the number of college freshmen wanting to get rich, although on the decline, is still high, according to the UCLA survey: 74 percent of those surveyed said it was essential, compared to 40 percent in 1969.
by CNB