November 2003

I wish you could see what I see as I preach on Sunday. It's an impressive sight. As Garrison Keillor would say, all the men are good‑looking and all the women are pretty. But more important than that, before me sits enormous diversity - all God's children in one place. The world is represented in our sanctuary. Many of are visiting the United States, maybe for the very first time, from at least a dozen countries. And with this many people present we can be quite sure that every one of the fifty states is represented here, as well as all ethnic, religious, economic backgrounds and a wide range of human experience.

There is a vast range in ages as well. Just a few feet away is a nursery where some of the babies are just a few weeks old. And there are some present who were born at the end of the last century.

The whole world is in this place, just the way God likes to see it. And the best part is that we all get along, which is the way it should be.

With this wide diversity surely there are many different understandings of Thanksgiving. Those of you who are visiting this country might be asking, "What is this holiday? We don't have it in my country." Many of you have immigrated from other countries and have adopted this country and this celebration. My parents were immigrants, and Thanksgiving was a very important holiday for them. They were excited about being American - because of the opportunities, because of the freedoms and because of all that being Americans meant to them.

Some time ago I heard someone say that one of the many unique things about the United States of America is that while you could go to England and live out the rest of your life and never be called English, or to China and live there for a lifetime and never be called Chinese, or do the same in India and it would never be said that you were Indian, you can come to America, live here a few years, adopt the country as your own, and rightly say, "I am an American."

For all our different experiences, we who were raised in America do have a common understanding of Thanksgiving. I know what I was taught as a little boy, and I have heard what those in generations before me were taught. This week I talked to some teenagers, and this morning to a seven‑year‑old boy, and they all said the same thing. "We learn about the Pilgrims with their fancy dress and their big, wide‑brim hats, and the Indians who wore clothes from the animals, and the Mayflower, and the harsh, long and cold winter. We learned about the first Thanksgiving, with the corn and other crops that the Indians taught the settlers to grow, and wild turkeys, and how they had a Thanksgiving feast together, outside, for three days."

All of us who attended school in this country learned about this celebration. And we learned as well how the Pilgrim mothers and fathers had an unshakable belief in and dependence on God. They had a rigorous work ethic and believed in taking responsibility for themselves. And even though their lives were extraordinarily difficult, and in the first year more than half their number died, and they had almost nothing, they didn't whine and complain. Instead, with nobility and grace, they gave thanks for the little they had. Given the level of gratitude they showed for the little they had, with all that we have we should have waterfall after waterfall after waterfall of thanksgiving to offer.

What was it like in your community on Thanksgiving? Each community has its own particular flavors and patterns and traditions. If you were from a small community like I was, you probably had a high school or college football game that was a big part of the celebration. In my community in Maine, there was the big game between Portland High School and Deering High School. I remember it was always cold outside, sometimes rainy and sometimes snowy, and there was tremendous excitement. We were a happy people. Afterwards we all went back to our warm homes and had our Thanksgiving meal.

I have named this sermon "A Thanksgiving Game" not really because of football games, but because I'm going to suggest a couple of personal games we can play to help us elevate our degree of giving thanks. Sometimes we seem to be a people who have lost the art of being profoundly grateful. I am hoping we can learn to increase our gratitude to reach the level of the Pilgrim mothers and fathers.

The other day I met a charming woman who told me about how she and her husband, both retired and in their eighties, often take walks and play a game they call Lift. "We do what we can to give everybody we see a little lift. When we greet the doorman in our building, we affirm him by saying something nice to help build him up. We give a lift to the taxi‑driver when we say thank‑you.

"The other day I was in a department store," she continued, "and the salesperson waiting on me was a sullen, dour person. Years ago I would have taken that same attitude back at her, but I've changed.

"Looking at her frowning face, I noticed she had pretty teeth, so I said, 'You've got beautiful teeth. I'd like to see more of them.' She broke into a smile. Then I told her why I envy women who have pretty teeth. Some sixty years ago, the week before I got married, I was in an automobile accident. I went through the windshield and broke most of my front teeth and bruised my face. That's the way I looked standing at the altar. My teeth were never pretty after that."

After she told me this story, she added, "Every night when my husband and I get home we talk about the lifts we gave to other people. By doing that, we ourselves are lifted."

I love this couple's Lift game. They bring joy into their own lives at the same time as they bring joy to others. If we have fallen into the habit of negativity, we need to rewrite our personal game plans to bring more of the positive into the world.

It seems we have become a nation of complainers and blamers. I don't like to watch the local evening news because when they do person‑on‑the‑street interviews what you hear more and more often is somebody whining and complaining about how terrible things are and blaming everybody else for it. This is a game people play, and this is how it goes. You look around you and see all the things that are wrong. Then you start complaining about how things aren't right, and how badly people behave. Then you talk about how they should behave instead. You keep complaining, and then you find some friends who will complain with you, and you build up a society of commiseraters. The object of the game is to feel good about feeling bad. This is a cancer in our society, and it doesn't help anything.

In his letter to the Thessalonians, the Apostle Paul urges us succinctly, directly and powerfully, "Rejoice always. Pray constantly. Give thanks in all circumstances." How many of us do that? And then he goes on, "You get a hold of what's good and you hold fast to what's good."

Nobody can build a life on complaint. Nobody can build a nation on complaint. The Pilgrims, giving thanks in the midst of hardship and want, built on the little they had, and helped build the American character. Their thankfulness helped create the greatness of soul of this country, and we only remain great and continue to grow great if we remember that and first and foremost, bottom line, to be a grateful people.

One of the games that blamers play is the game of "if‑only." "Oh, if only I had more money I would be happy." "If only I had a better job..." "If only I had a better place to live..." "If only I had a better boss..." If only, if only, if only. That's a cop‑out. There comes a point where you learn not to blame the person or circumstance that stands in your way. The Pilgrim fathers taught us some basic lessons about working hard and taking responsibility for self. Their example reminds us to be grateful for all the good things in our lives and to trust God to know what is best for us.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if not one of us ever again said, "If only such-and-such had happened, I could have been..." and instead found a way to make it happen?

The most famous if-only person in the Bible is probably the sick man at the Pool of Bethesda in the New Testament. You know the story, how the people of the time believed an angel stirred the waters and the first person in the water after that would be healed. For thirty-eight years this man lay by the side of the pool and never managed to be the first one in. I imagine he'd say such things as, "You know, thirty‑six years ago I was right up to the edge of the pool and if only some big guy hadn't pushed his way in past me, I would have been healed."

When the man asked Jesus for help, He gave him a wonderful spiritual lesson. Jesus understood that the man had within him all the resources he needed to get well. He had around him the assistance of other people but also, and most importantly, he had divine intervention. In effect what Jesus said to the man was, "Stand up. Stand tall on the inside. Pick up your pallet and walk."

And to his surprise the complainer and blamer, the if‑only guy, discovered he had the resources within to overcome. He took responsibility for his life, and he found he was able to walk. Then Jesus said some very strong words to him. "If you want to stay well, do not sin any more."

So let us not be cop‑out artists any more. Let us not play the game of if‑only, the blame and complain game.

You may know the economist Julian Simon. "People call me an optimist," he once said, "but I'm really an appreciator. Ten years ago, I was cured of a badly infected finger with antibiotics when once my doctor could have recommended only a hot‑water soak or, eventually, surgery. That was a product of technology. When I was six years old and had scarlet fever, the first of the miracle drugs, sulfanilamide, saved my life.

"I'm grateful for computers and photocopiers. I'm grateful that college kids can visit their parents by plane for the cost of a few weeks of part‑time labor. I'm grateful that even in poor countries children have a chance to be fed and educated. I appreciate where we've come from. And that's why I can't understand the people who respond to progress with 'Yes, but.'"

Or, I might add, "if only."

I know what's going on in some heads right now. "But Arthur, I've got problems. My life is difficult."

Let me tell you a little story. Some years ago at a dinner party I sat next to a man who was a professor at West Point Military Academy. Very proudly he told me he had three sons, each of whom had graduated from West Point. So I said to him ‑ and it wasn't a very smart question (although I usually get better answers to my dumb questions) - "Did they enjoy the Point?"

And he responded, "Reverend, nobody enjoys West Point. You appreciate it."

I've talked to West Point graduates, Annapolis graduates, Air Force Academy graduates, and they all say the same thing. "No, I didn't enjoy it. But I appreciated it, the challenge, the learning, and even the harshness and discipline, because that has made me a mature person."

So how about rewriting the game plan for your own life, and becoming an appreciator?

And why not learn to play the game of thanking, so that running through your blood and bones is enormous gratitude for individuals who have made a difference in your life? My life has been blessed ten thousand times by thanking people that I needed to thank. Dozens of you have talked to me or written me to say, "I went and thanked someone who has helped me, as you suggested," and they said what a difference it had made in their lives.

I have thanked teachers, and bosses. I even thanked a boss I hadn't liked because of what I learned from him. I've thanked friends, I've thanked family members, I've thanked lots of people, and every year there are new people to thank.

If you've not done so, this year, this week, at Thanksgiving, thank someone. Do more than just pick up the phone. Write a letter telling somebody important to you how much he or she has contributed to your life. Play the game of being a thanker. You're going to bless somebody. And you'll be blessed ten times over. Let us pray.

Lord, thank You, thank You, thank You. We are filled and overwhelmed with the blessing and goodness of the things that come to us. Help us, Lord, to straighten up and stand tall within and say thank you - to You, God, and to teachers, to friends, to parents, to children, to brothers, to sisters, to everybody who touches and helps us. We thank You for every good thing. In Jesus' name we pray. AMEN