|
|
|
|
 Luke 17:11-19
I love Thanksgiving. It gets me centered and reminds me to stop my busyness to think about life and its blessings, and to realize how dependent I am on God and others. When I do this my life has much more balance. By acknowledging how very dependent I am on God and on the people in my life, I strengthen those connections.
Our Thanksgiving tradition, of course, was started in 1621 by the Pilgrims in Plymouth, Massachusetts. As a boy I always felt a kinship with the Pilgrims, I think because I was raised in Maine, which is not far away and has similar terrain and weather. The Pilgrims' dramatic story took hold of my boyhood imagination. It struck me that in the midst of loss and harsh deprivation, with little to look forward to, not knowing who would be next to get sick or die, these people took time to stop, to think, and to give thanks.
They gave us a great legacy. Whatever greatness there is in the American character comes from the Pilgrim tradition of giving thanks. We must never edit this out of the American tradition. We must never edit it out of our own personal tradition. It is essential to the greatness of this country and to the depth of our character, that we be a thankful people.
It has been in vogue in recent years to be critical of the shortcomings of the Pilgrims. Perhaps they were a little stern and narrow for our tastes today. We might feel ourselves to be superior to them for that reason. But are we? Do we have the spiritual maturity to thank God for what remains, if we were to face similar circumstances?
In many ways we have become the most successful and privileged nation in the world. We have so much! We are an advantaged people. And we have the precious gift of freedom. But we also may be the most ungrateful nation in the world. We are constantly whining and complaining. We are lawsuit-happy. On the radio, on television, on the street, what do we so often hear? One continuous complaint about how terrible everything is.
I think we complain because we are surrounded by luxuries and opportunities. We have begun to believe that we are entitled to live lives that are trouble-free and convenient. When anything goes wrong we are full of indignation, like a baby whose toy has been taken away.
A generation or two ago, most of the things we regard as necessities, were luxuries. I remember having a telephone, because my father was a minister, when many of my friends didn't. And those of us who did have a phone had a party line. I remember having an icebox instead of a refrigerator. We didn't have controlled thermostatic heat, there was no air-conditioning and there was no television. All of these things today are considered necessities.
We would do well to get perspective on our lives by thinking of the many things that were luxuries then, but necessities today, and realize how much we can really do without. It would help us to get centered, and remind us to say, "Thank you, God. For with all the burdens I am carrying, I am grateful because I am blessed."
And then, if we had enough wisdom we would say, "Thank you also, God, for my problems. I know it is through the obstacles in front of me that I grow."
Our sense of being burdened is a particularly adult one. Even children playing in the battlefields of Somalia, Dublin or Bosnia seem to be able to laugh and focus on the pleasures of the moment. We would be wise to do a little mental exercise and return to our childhoods, getting back in touch with how we were as little girls and boys, filled with wonder. We felt enormous awe as we looked at the great big world with the big people in it. How wonderful! Just to think that one day we would be all grown up and adult in this wonderful world! Then we grow up into adults and lose our sense of wonder.
Rachel Carson, who wrote The Silent Spring and was a pioneer of the environmental movement, said that if she had a chance, she would instill in every child in the world a sense of wonder that would last them through a lifetime. She knew it is because of our taking the natural world for granted that we destroy it. People cannot destroy what fills them with awe.
Albert Schweitzer, who could have had any one of three or four careers - as a professor of philosophy or theology or as an organist - became a physician, and left the comforts of the world to live as a servant among simple, ordinary, needy people. He summed up his philosophy of life in three words: reverence for life. Sensitive, wondering reverence for life. All of life.
Don't you think we need to get back to a sense of awe? Awe keeps us fresh. It deepens our contact with the world. It leads us naturally to gratitude for what we have.
A great man whose books I often turn to - and frequently quote - is Abraham Heschel, a great rabbi who lived here in New York City until his death. "As civilization advances, the sense of wonder declines," he says. "Replete is the world with spiritual radiance, replete with sublime and marvelous secrets, but a small hand held against the eye hides it all.... We fail to wonder; this is the tragedy of every human --- to dim all wonder by indifference. Life is routine, and routine is resistant to wonder."
I was a teenager when I first heard the phrase, "Take time to smell the roses." It came from the lips of Ben Hogan, one of America's great golfers. He was in the sunset of his career, talking about playing less golf and spending more time doing things he enjoyed with people who were important to him. How often in our institutionalized, mechanical lives, surrounded by all kinds of pressures, do we take time to see the beauty in people and in the world? We're moving too fast. We're too preoccupied.
Has routine begun to deaden your awareness? Do you lose touch with the real miracles that surround you? Do you forget that milk really comes from a cow and bread from wheat? What do you do about it? I've got a ritual I follow at least once a year to help get me back in touch with what is important. One early morning at the end of each summer I take my boat out to sea until I am beyond the sight of land, to see the sun rise. There's nothing like seeing the sun coming up over the water with nothing in between --- no buildings, no mountains and no land - just the horizon of the water and the sky.
When the time came last summer I asked my wife if she was ready to get up at four for the sunrise. So we set out, and by 5:30 were twenty miles out. That morning the ocean was very choppy. We sat and watched the eastern sky, waiting for the six o'clock moment when the top of the sun would make its grand and dramatic entrance.
There was a ribbon of deep pink seeming to stretch halfway around the world. As the minutes passed it got lighter and lighter and we began to focus on the spot where the sun would appear. At six o'clock sharp it burst forth. Involuntarily I came to my feet, standing at attention and saying, "Yes, yes, yes!" It was like seeing the birth of a child. And it was a birth, the birth of the day. It was as if I were present at creation itself. It was a grand moment. I was ecstatic, and I found myself saying aloud, "Praise God, from whom all blessings flow."
Once the sun appears, it doesn't take its time. It seems to be in a hurry to get into the sky and to do its work for the day. It was in the 40's that morning, but within five minutes our cold faces began to feel its warmth.
A phrase came into my mind: "The day is born in silence." I remembered the words of the Psalmist: "Be still, and know that I am God."
In so many of his teachings Jesus reminds us to slow down and appreciate. He loved children, and related to their ability to stop everything and purely take in everything around them. Jesus had the ability to be with others and see the beauty of their souls and the hope that lay eternal in each person's breast.
Wilferd Peterson has written a wonderful poem, "Slow Me Down, Lord." He talks about how there is more to life than increasing its speed:
Slow me down, Lord...
Let me look upward Into the branches of the towering oak
And know that it grew great and strong
Because it grew slowly and well.
Slow me down, Lord,
And inspire me to send my roots deep
Into the soil of life's enduring values
That I may grow toward the stars
Of my greater destiny.
There's a very confronting story in the Scripture where Jesus is walking along a road and is approached by ten people with leprosy, who call to Him, asking for help. Normally when He was asked to heal someone He would ask a question and then perform a healing miracle. But to the lepers He gave a surprising response. "Go and show yourselves to the priest." Surely perplexed, they did as He asked. As they walked along, they realized something was changing in their bodies. They were healing. From a distance, Jesus had healed them.
They were out of their minds with joy. One of them, realizing who had cured them, stopped, turned around, ran back and lay down at his feet. "Jesus, thank you, thank you, thank you." Jesus asked, "Where are the other nine?" You know they had to be grateful. They just didn't take the time to stop and to think.
Every Thanksgiving I remind people - and myself as well - to call or write someone who has had an influence for good in their lives and say, "Thank you; you touched me in a very important way." Too often we take our parents, teachers, mentors and friends for granted. We often don't recognize those who have played a significant role in our lives. For instance, who gave you your first big break? Who was there for you the last time your life was in crisis? Who taught you something you've used over and over? Who made possible an especially enriching experience? Whose actions restored your faith in other people?
Do these people know what their kindness and sensitivity have meant to you? Do they know what a vital part they have played in your life history? Why not tell them? They need to hear it. You need to express it.
Get centered in thanks. Take a moment. Stop. Think. And thank. Thank God, and thank significant other people, and everybody will be blessed. Let us pray.
Lord, we thank You for everything: for the gift of life, for opportunities, for the abundance of things that You have given unto us. Lord, we are a blessed people. Help us to be grateful -- not to whine, not to complain, but to say, "Yes, God, I thank you." This we ask in Jesus' name. AMEN |
|
|
|
|
|