“Maybe it’s all a gift…”

Thanksgiving Sunday

Sunday October 11, 2009

Joel 2:21-27

Psalm 126

1 Timothy 2:1-7

The birth and baptism of a baby offer us wonderful opportunities to ponder the mystery of life.

Consider the mystery of birth.  We might know the biological mechanics of reproduction and gestation, but an awareness of those scientific details does not completely sum up the great mystery of existence.  As we celebrate little Madison’s life this day, we cannot help but stand in awe at the great mystery by which a unique configuration of atoms, molecules, flesh, water, blood and bones has now come together to form this beautiful little child.  It is truly amazing how this precious, living, conscious being has already come to occupy such a powerful place in the hearts and minds of parents and her loved ones.   It is equally remarkable that that this little being who, only a short time ago, did not even exist, has now taken her place in the universe, and, just a few moments ago, has also been welcomed into the Body of Christ.

While it might seem to be a rather grand claim, it is nonetheless true that both the universe, and the church, become fundamentally different realities every time that a child is born, and every time that a person is baptized.  To be conscious of our existence is an amazing concept; and the ways that our physical and spiritual existence shifts and changes in and through our awareness of the presence of and our interactions with others is a truly awe-inspiring mystery.

To ponder these great mysteries of physical and spiritual existence is perhaps particularly appropriate at Thanksgiving. 

After all, Thanksgiving Day is a day when we are invited to reflect, in a particularly focused way, on the blessings that shape our existence.  The gift of life; the gift of loved ones; the gift of food to sustain our lives; the gift of clothing and shelter to protect us from the elements; the gift of creative ways to use our skills and abilities; the gift of community, of country, of creation itself, all of which we so often take for granted; the gift of faith, of hope and of love which so often serve to inspire and to motivate us.  And, at this time of year, we are not only invited to ponder these gifts; but also to root our response to them in a spirit of gratitude.

It seems unfortunate, at times, that Thanksgiving is not seen to be as ‘religious’ a holiday as are some of the other holidays such as Easter and Christmas.  After all, the spirit that rests at the heart of our Thanksgiving celebrations – the spirit of gratitude – has a profoundly spiritual and religious dimension.  The calling to cultivate a spirit of gratitude -- not only on one day in October, but rather each and every day of our lives -- rests at the heart of a healthy spirituality. 

Of course, the cultivation of a life marked by gratitude opens us to some profoundly spiritual questions.  Perhaps the most important of these questions concerns the basic question about where our gratitude should rightfully be directed.

When I was in high school, my maternal grandmother came to live with us.  She was a remarkable woman in many ways, and, having been orphaned at a relatively young age, had lived a life marked by incredible challenges and by significant accomplishments.  Because of some of the challenges that she had endured, faith was not always easy for her -- and there were times when she expressed her questions in rather humourous ways.  Often, at large family dinners – such as Thanksgiving – after my mother had once again timed everything perfectly so that, after hours of preparation, everything somehow would arrive on the table at a perfect temperature, looking delicious, my father would say grace, giving thanks to God for our family, for our food, and for the many blessings of life.  The grace would end, and in that quiet moment after the word ‘amen’ and before everyone started eating, it was not uncommon to hear my grandmother turn to my mother and murmur, in a voice that she thought was quieter than it actually was, “well, I don’t know about the rest of them, Kathie, but I thank you!”

My grandmother’s expression of gratitude was entirely fitting; my mother had, in fact, worked hard to prepare the meal.  But we all know, at a very basic level, that true gratitude is meant to lift our minds, our hearts and our spirits, beyond simple acknowledgement of the work of others, and into the realm of the mystery of God. 

Today’s suggested lectionary reading from the Gospel of Matthew directs our attention in exactly such a way, making it an intriguing one to contemplate at Thanksgiving.  The passage is a part of Jesus’ ‘Sermon on the Mount’, and contains one of his most famous commands to those who would follow him – that we are called to seek first the kingdom of God, and God’s righteousness. 

Such an invitation calls us, as his followers, to seek to allow God’s love to reign over every part of our lives and to shape every part of who we are both as individuals and as a community of people together. 

But what we sometimes forget is that this famous invitation to allow the pursuit of that divine love to be the defining priority of our existence is, in fact, offered in the midst of words about avoiding worry.  Stop worrying, Jesus was saying.  Look at creation; the birds of the air have food; the flowers of the fields are more beautifully dressed than even the greatest of kings; and so, in light of God’s providential care for all of creation, do not allow your lives to be consumed by worry.  We read, “do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ ³²For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. ³³But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”  In other words, if your lives are aligned with God’s reign, there is no longer anything to worry about – God has the power to care for you.

Of course, it is much easier to talk about a life free from worry than it is to embrace it.  After all, not only does worry consume a tremendous amount of our time and energy, but the idea that God provides for our needs is a strange idea in this modern age.   Particularly since the European enlightenment and the rise of the industrial revolution, our culture often assumes that the blessings of our lives are products of our own making, results of our own hard work, direct consequences of our own diligence, and the outcome of the effective manipulation of the resources that are within our own control.  We convince ourselves that any good that we enjoy is a product of our own striving; we teach our children to rely on themselves and to be independent; even the way that we are confronting the environmental crisis reflects this assumption that we are in control of reality.  Without doubting, for a moment, that there are great changes that we must all seek to incorporate into our lives for the sake of harmony with the natural world, we should have the humility to admit that we may not actually possess all the power that will be necessary to bring the entire natural order back under control.  Our assumption of control led to the problem; and now our assumption of control is seen to be the solution.

But what if we are not in control?  What if reality is not, in fact, in our power?  What if the blessings of our lives are not simply the result of our own hard work?  What if there actually is a God who has the power to provide for all of the needs of our lives, to set us free from worry, and to fill our lives with peace and with joy – if we simply allow the reign of God’s love to shape our lives and the priorities of God’s kingdom to reshape our existence?  What if Jesus’ words are true -- “do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ ³²For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. ³³But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

In some ways, this might seem like a rather simplistic response to the great questions of existence. 

But, in a very important way, such a vision has the power to lead us to a place of true gratitude.  True gratitude can only be born in those who come to celebrate that life – and all of life’s blessings –  are gifts.  There is, after all, very little reason for responding to the mystery of existence with gratitude if life is merely the result of random chance, and if the blessings of our lives are simply the result of our own hard work.   There is, in fact, very little reason for celebrating Thanksgiving if we only have ourselves to thank.

But if there is a God who loves us, who shapes our existence, even before the moment of our birth, who blesses our lives in ways that we usually take for granted and who provides for all of our needs, then we are led into that state of being  in which the only appropriate – and, in some ways, the only possible – response is gratitude. 

Even as we ponder this call to live with gratitude, and even as we celebrate the blessings of our lives, we cannot help but remember that there are times, in every one of our lives, when existence does not seem like a gift; when life is terribly difficult, and when we find it hard to continue to believe that God loves us and cares for us.  There are times when pious talk about God’s love seems like a rather empty hope, and perhaps even a decidedly cruel joke.

In those times, it is good for us to remember that the entire story of the Gospel.  And when we call to mind the whole story, we remember that the same One who spoke, in today’s passage, about God providing for all of our needs and caring for us was the One who, himself, also knew the agonizing pain of feeling abandoned by God.  It was He who made the terrible journey to the cross – to the place where he himself thought that God had forsaken him. 

And yet, the great good news was that the story did not end in that moment of God-forsaken anguish.  Rather, the good news was that God was with him and in him, even into that terrible moment of humiliation, of suffering and of pain. And that terrible moment was prelude to the greatest revelation of the true extent of God’s care, of God’s love, of God’s power.  That moment of terrible pain was prelude to the triumphant proclamation of the resurrection.  Christ’s moment of absolute despair on the cross was prelude to the rebirth of hope.

And that example has continued to motivate people throughout history, and even into our own times, to find the courage to declare the promise of hope in the midst of despair.  It was proclaimed on the lips of Martin Luther King, whose prophetic vision of a new relationship between the peoples of his country reshaped the life of his nation.  It was proclaimed on the lips of Desmond Tutu, who courageously, joyfully and playfully dared to remind the rulers of South Africa that their regime was destined for destruction because it contradicted God’s dream for the world.  And it is being proclaimed, even now, by those who challenge the world, and the church, to break down any level of oppression, any situation of injustice, any barrier of exclusion and marginalization so that the reign of God’s love can become ever more fully realized in human history. 

And it is this vision of a love that leads us, and our world, from despair to hope, that sets us free from worry, that cares for us and provides for all of our needs, and that is  present to us – both in times of joy and in times of pain – that leads us, even in the midst of our moments of greatest despair, back to a spirit of gratitude.   

And so, at every moment of our existence, from the time that we are infants in our parents arms until we come to the end our days in this world, we are invited to live in the knowledge that we are loved by a God who cares for us in ways beyond our comprehension. 

In response to that great love, we embrace a spirit of joyful gratitude – and, on this day and every day of our lives, we say with hearts set free from worry -- thanks be to God.