Why You're Not Robbing Them

The June-July season for my family is “robbing time,” when we “rob” our beehives and harvest the extra honey the bees don’t need. This is done by taking the top box of frames called the “super,” short for “superfluous” (meaning “extra” or “unnecessary”), and then extracting the honey.

Recently, my family had a conversation around this topic, and my mother lamented that we were taking, or robbing, something the bees had labored for all year. She felt guilty over the fact that we were swooping in and stealing what didn’t belong to us, like someone charging into our home unannounced, marching to our freezer, taking our stores, and smoking us as they did it.

Soon, my dad chimed in to allay her worries. We have a spare freezer, and my dad shared how it would be much more like someone going into that freezer. And, I added, taking stores they originally paid for.

What I mean is this. In the wild, while still a force to “bee” reckoned with, bees are much more exposed and liable to experience the challenges of large predators, the elements, and mite and virus infestations. In addition to these trials, they don’t have the benefit of humans planting flowers conveniently nearby, nor are they consistently fed the delicious sugar water our bees enjoy. When we first started, we also gave tremendous consideration to where their hives should be placed, made sure they had a local water source, and constructed a fence to protect them.

In sum, our bees are well-cared for, and we provide all that they need. We just ask for a honey tax once a year, and given that it’s superfluous, it really won’t even hurt them.

I sometimes wonder if in our own lives we take the view my mom took with the bees. What we have, and are, we have earned. It belongs to us, and we owe no one. We are the little mouse ahead of the elephant on the bridge, saying, quite pleased with ourselves, “Look at me shaking this bridge!” We have our own little world, our own little workers, and we are the queen bee.

On the contrary, Scripture would tell us that we are stewards, and what we have belongs to God. First Corinthians 4:7 poses the question, “What do you have that you have not received?” It’s easy to view what is superfluous—what we don’t actually need—as still ours and give it the primitive label “mine.” Yet, God may ask us to give it to Him, which we can do and must if we trust that He in fact will not take from us, or “rob” us, of anything we need to thrive. We may at times think God is unfair, but in actuality it all belongs to Him.

God knows exactly the place he has planted us and protects us in it. He provides all the tools and flowers we need, protects us from predators who may unjustly steal the fruit of our labor, and sets us up for success (Is. 26:12). And yet, when He asks for even a portion, what is our response? Do we rob Him in tithes and offerings, failing to trust His promise and His Word (Mal. 3)? Do we give begrudgingly (2 Cor. 9:7) or with polluted motives (Ac. 5:1-11)? Do we think we don’t have enough for Him, that what we have is ours, or that He has no right to intrude or demand, when all along He’s the one who’s prepared and equipped us and gives us everything we need (2 Pet. 1:3)?

In Luke 12, a man approaches Jesus, asking Him to be an arbiter between him and his brother. Seeing his heart, Jesus responds by warning him against all kinds of greed, saying that life does not consist of the abundance of possessions. He then tells a parable about a rich man who, having no place to store his crops, builds bigger barns so that he can live securely and eat, drink, and be merry. Or so he thinks.

Next, we read that God comes to him displeased: “You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?” (Lk. 12:20). Jesus adds that this is “how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God” (v. 21).

Working, earning, and accumulating is not a bad thing. Even the bees must labor and save to survive the winter. However, generosity and lending to the Lord (Prov. 19:17) never crosses this man’s mind. His first thought is not who needs the blessing with which he has been entrusted but how he can keep it and save it for himself. His sin was neither his wealth nor his desire to enjoy life. Rather, it was his greed and ingratitude. From the outside, we might call this man a success story, but God calls him a fool.

One final note: No bee operates alone but works for the good of the hive. As John Chrysostom observes, “The bee is more honored than other animals, not because she labors, but because she labors for others.” Keeping the hive functional is not a one-bee show. Rather, it requires the dedication of each bee, who has a role in maintaining and serving the community.

Let me pose a question. When Jesus looks in our direction, will He find His servants hard at work, who have taken His good, sweet gifts and the resources He has provided and used them effectively to serve? Or will He find us but a fruitless tree of leaves (Mk. 11:13), regretfully ill-prepared when we don’t think it’s the season and don’t think Jesus will be passing by?

My friends, and I speak this as much to myself, let us give joyfully, for God keeps accounts we cannot and blesses storehouses we don’t know we have (Mal. 3:10). He does not and cannot rob, for all belongs to Him. If there is any question at all, consider Romans 8:32, “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” Surely, our God owns the cattle on a thousand hills and meets your needs in Christ.