“Don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.” This means that when we do something good for others, we should not brag about it or seek recognition. I have two stories that have taught me this lesson.
The first is about Rev. Melvin.
About twenty years ago, Rev. Melvin helped an African student graduate from Daystar University in Kenya. The young man had discovered Melvin’s first book in the seminary library. He was deeply moved by what he read and eventually contacted Melvin. The two began communicating, and Melvin helped him in his studies.
Later, that student opened an Institute of Lay Pastors Ministry in Kenya and carried out the ministry nationally. Eventually, Melvin University was born because the student donated six hectares of land that had been handed down to him by his father. Today, he is Pastor John Ogillah, the vice president of Melvin University.
If it had not been for Melvin, this young African man might never have had the opportunity to become a university student and graduate. His life, and eventually the lives of many others, were changed because of one man’s quiet generosity.
What amazes me is that I knew nothing about this story.
I had worked with Melvin for nearly twenty years, but he never told me that he had been helping this African student. After Melvin passed away, John Ogillah, now the vice president of Melvin University, told me what Melvin had done for him.
In fact, when I was working in Korea, the staff at our Institute and I sometimes complained about Melvin. We wondered why he never helped us financially. We were close to him, and yet he never gave us even a penny for our Korean ministry.
Now I understand things differently.
Melvin had been quietly supporting the Ogillah family. John, his wife, and their children were able to stay in the university’s family housing, and Melvin supported John’s education for four or five years. I imagine that he invested more than a million dollars in helping this family and supporting John’s studies.
And yet, Melvin never told me.
He never said, “I cannot help you because I am helping someone in Africa.” He simply continued helping the people he had chosen to help.
I met him several times personally, but he never mentioned it.
Looking back, I realize that Melvin gave me a practical lesson in what Jesus meant when He said, “Don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.”
The second story is about Grandmother Connie.
When I was attending seminary in Canada, I needed to complete Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE). However, there was no suitable place for my practicum in Toronto, so I was assigned to a center for people with intellectual disabilities in Woodstock, several hours away.
Fortunately, my advisor, Dr. Muriel, had worked as a missionary in India for more than ten years. She understood Asians like me very well. My English was not good, and there were significant cultural differences between Korea and Canada. She became a wonderful bridge for me.
The other six students in the CPE group were Canadians who had graduated from good universities and had more experience than I did. I often felt like an outsider.
Because Woodstock was too far from Toronto to commute every day, I needed a place to stay during the week. I would work at the center during the week and return to my family in Toronto on weekends.
Dr. Muriel introduced me to a detached house owned by a friend. I rented a room on the second floor and lived there for several months.
The owner, Grandmother Connie, had worked in an office at a general hospital for almost thirty years. Every morning, she went to work at the hospital while I went to the center for my CPE training.
When I moved in, we agreed that I would pay $250 a month for the room. Since I was a student, I thought she was giving me a very good deal.
After six months of training, the time came for me to leave. One day, I packed my bag and was preparing to return to Toronto. Grandmother Connie asked me to sit down in the living room. Then she handed me an envelope.
Inside was $1,500.
She had saved all the rent I had paid during those six months.
She told me that she had kept the money and had never used it. Now she wanted to return it to me.
I was embarrassed and did not know what to say. It was the first time anyone had done something like that for me. But she had already saved the money for me, so I could not refuse it.
At that time, I was a seminary student living in Toronto with my family. To me, $1,500 was a great deal of money.
I still remember that envelope.
When I think about these two people now, I am humbled.
Melvin helped a young African student for years, but he never told me about it. Grandmother Connie quietly saved six months of rent for a struggling seminary student, but she did not make a show of her generosity.
Neither of them seemed interested in being praised.
They simply helped.
Looking back, I realize that I was too concerned about what I could see. I complained because I did not know what Melvin was doing behind the scenes. I could not see the generosity that was taking place somewhere else.
Perhaps that is one reason Jesus taught us not to announce our good deeds.
Some of the most meaningful acts of kindness happen quietly, without an audience and without applause.
I am deeply grateful to Dr. Melvin and Grandmother Connie. Their generosity was not only something they gave me or someone else. It became a lesson that I have carried with me for many years:
Do good, but don’t seek recognition. Give, but don’t keep score. Sometimes the greatest generosity is the generosity nobody sees.
And perhaps that is what it means to let the right hand do its work while the left hand remains unaware.