Springwood Presbyterian Church: Whitsett, NC

It is just before the Passover and Jesus is in Jerusalem.  He knows his death will be soon.

Mark 13:1-8
Hebrews 10:11-18                                                                                11-22-09

Thanks Be To God

 It’s been a habit in our family when we sit down for Thanksgiving dinner to say, “count your blessings” and invite each person to remember his or her blessings of the past year.  Some years, it’s easy—other years, it seems the blessings are harder to find. 

 A few years ago, an unusual thank-you note was sent to Presbytery’s Hunger Enabler from Loaves and Fishes Christian Food Ministry for a grant they received from our Pennies for Hunger offering: 

I’m thankful for the taxes I pay because it means I’m employed. 

I’m thankful for the mess to clean up after Thanksgiving dinner because it means I have been surrounded by loving family and friends.

I’m thankful for windows that need cleaning, gutters that need fixing, and a yard to take care of, because it means I have a home.

I’m thankful for all the complaining I hear about our government, because it means we have freedom of speech.

          I’m thankful for my huge heating bill because it means I am warm.

          I’m thankful for the piles of laundry because it means I have clothes to wear.

I’m thankful for the person behind me in church who sings off key because it means I can hear.

I’m thankful for my clothes that fit too snugly because it means I have enough to eat.

I’m thankful for the alarm that goes off in the morning because it means I am alive.

Makes you think, doesn’t it?  As I reflect on this past year, I can name many blessings—not only for me, but for you, too: a place to live; family and friends to care about us and about whom we can care; work to do, whether volunteer or paid; health if we have it, and places to go for help if we don’t; the colors of God’s world; music; being needed; a loving church family; a spirit of enthusiasm for the work God calls this congregation to do.

 At the same time, I am aware of how much sorrow there’s been—how much sickness—how many deaths—how much inner turmoil for many.  In the world beyond our doors, too, we have been touched by tragedies—mass murders; deaths of soldiers and civilians on the increase in Afghanistan; plane crashes and earthquakes and hurricanes and floods; young children murdered.  Shall we then, say thanks for some of life and not for all of it?

 Is our faith strong enough to give thanks even for tragedy, trusting God to be God, rather than our personal purveyor of happiness?  Since all life comes from God, our predecessors in the faith, the Jews, believe they are obligated to bless everything: the bad as well as the good.  Thousands of years ago, they framed blessings used even now for every circumstance of life.  For good, the blessing is: “Blessed be the One who is good and does good.”  For difficulty, the blessing is: “Blessed be the judge of truth.”  We could learn a good practice from them.  “It is forbidden,” says the Talmud, “to taste of this world without a blessing.”

 But that’s not really news, is it?, to Christians who have eaten the broken bread and lifted the cup at the Lord’s table, where we give thanks for the life and the death and the resurrected life of Jesus Christ.  We don’t bless the good parts of his story and curse the painful ones.  No, we celebrate the whole of his life: his gentle birth and violent crucifixion, the joy of his friendships and the bitterness of the betrayals; the sleepless night in Gethsemane and the empty tomb on Easter morning.  In fact, the most tragic part of his life makes possible our eternal life.  Christ’s life is all a single tapestry—its threads so interwoven, that to take out one thread would unravel the whole picture.  So it is for our lives.     

 As we look toward Thanksgiving Day, I pray that each of you will take time to look at your life through the lens of gratitude, and to say “thank you” for the whole mess: the events and people we welcome, as well as those we dread and despise—to see gratitude running through every thread of our life, because gratitude is at the heart of life for people redeemed by Jesus Christ.

 Consider the words you hear every Sunday after the scripture.  “This is the word of the Lord,” I say when the reading is ended.  Then you accept that word by responding, “Thanks be to God.”  That’s easy to say when the word is about God’s goodness toward us, as in the passage from Hebrews.  Not so easy when we hear Mark’s words about the fearsome things that signal the coming end of the world.

 The word of the Lord,” I say, and sometimes, like today, I hold my breath, wondering if you dare pronounce the response.  But some of you did—if not with joy, at least with faith. “Thanks be to God,” because we believe that God is present in every part of our lives—the good times and the painful ones.  “Thanks be to God,” we say, because we believe the promises of our baptism: that the cords of God’s love are never severed, however dark or convoluted our path through life may be.

“Thanks be to God,” then, for the whole of our lives—the good and the bad; for, while the good uplifts us, the bad challenges us to surmount it and to turn to God for help.  Every single happening of our lives is an invitation to draw closer to God, to become part of Christ’s body, which lived and suffered and died for us and for the whole world.  As his people, can we do the same?  That is our reason to praise and bless and thank God.

Thursday, as you bless your meal, try to bless all that has come to you this year, and all that will come to you next year.  Such thankfulness shapes our lives into sacraments: outward and visible signs of an inward and spiritual grace.  Thanks be to God.