"Thanksliving"

From Thanksgiving to “Thanksliving”

Rev. Kathleen Ellis

20 November 2005

The gospels according to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John all have at least one story in which Jesus and his disciples feed thousands of people with a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish. Some call this a miracle. Not only were all these people fed adequately, but there were baskets of bread left over.

I have read numerous explanations over the years. Some say that when the food was distributed, all the people brought out their own parcels of food to share and it became a picnic on the grounds, a feast of community. Some say the numbers of people were exaggerated each time the story was told—that it was really only 50 or 500 people, not 5000. Some say it was a matter of feeding the spirit rather than the body.

Whatever the explanation, the phrase “loaves and fishes” conjures up images of soup kitchens, community, and thanksgiving. At this time of year we are all reminded not only to give thanks for our blessings, but to share them with those who have so little.

Legally, we claim ownership of things. If something is ours and gets stolen, we can report a theft to the police and we may be able to make a claim on our insurance or take a deduction on our tax returns. If we inherit or buy a house, we will have a deed that allows us to sell it and use the money to buy something else. As participants in this Western civilization, we have constructed a legal system that allows us to maintain our wealth and make it work for us.

At this time of year in particular, we give thanks for the food, for the company, for the labor that makes it possible to shop for groceries without growing the food ourselves. But Grant M. Gallup, a Christian minister in Nicaragua reminds us of our privilege:

“[We] may think of the ritual foods around us: roast turkey and stuffing, cornbread, pumpkin and sweet potato pie—but we do not consciously include in our table grace a footnote for our privileged consumption of fast food and fast cars and fast tracks to funding.

“We do not include our consumption of fossil fuels, most of the world’s fancy pharmaceuticals, most of the world’s fun and leisure, days off, medical attention, and life-saving surgery.”

A few paragraphs later, Gallup really gets down to business when he writes,

“Birds take their feathers for granted, and flowers their fancy faces and exotic perfumes. And so for us food, clothing, the necessities of life, can and should be taken for granted—but they are for all the earth’s inhabitants, who alas cannot in fact take them [for granted], largely because of our deliberate and selfish distribution of the world’s resources. Shall we thank God that the planet’s gifts are slid so askew into our laps? Did God do this? A special favor for Gringos?”

There are some who would say we are blessed because God loves America … or the middle class … or our politics or religion. Roger Cowan, a Unitarian Universalist minister in Palm Beach Gardens, FL, wrote about the contrast between the world’s haves and have nots in a reflection called “Middle Class”: “I am not rich. I live in a town house and drive a Honda. but if I lived in Mexico, I could hire a maid, a cook, a driver and a gardener. “I am not rich. but if I lived in Central or most of South America, I could surely hire a cook and a maid. “I am not rich. but if I lived in Palestine or Pakistan, Albania or Afghanistan, Malaysia or Morocco, I would be thought rich and live richly. For me, sacrifice means rejecting dessert and holiday pies (for the sake of my waistline, not my life) or giving up steaks or vodka for Lent. “I am not rich. but, for all the world to see, I look like it.”

The middle class lifestyle that most of us enjoy is, in fact, a very comfortable life for those of us who think we are in it. There are always richer and poorer people around, so we can generally place ourselves in the middle eighty per cent.

We are, of course, generous people. We’re the ones who pay the bulk of the tax burden. We give to good causes around the world and across the country and on a local level. We give as individuals, as groups, and as a nation.

In dollar amounts we are indeed generous, though as a percentage of income, the more we have, the less we actually give away. From ancient times we have been advised to give to less advantaged people. In Deuteronomy [24:17-22]:

“When you are harvesting in your field and you overlook a sheaf, do not go back to get it. Leave it for the foreigner, the fatherless and the widow, so that the Lord your God may bless you in all the work of your hands. When you beat the olives from your trees, do not go over the branches a second time. Leave what remains for the foreigner, the fatherless and the widow. When you harvest the grapes in your vineyard, do not go over the vines again. Leave what remains for the foreigner, the fatherless and the widow.”

I am reminded of another story from Mark and Luke. Here is Mark’s version:

“(Jesus) sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

So, what can a person do? I have heard biblical quotations about the poor all my life: From the Psalms, “I am poor and needy, and my heart is pierced within me” (Ps. 109:22). From the Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven (Mt. 5:3).” Yet these quotations that come to mind are not so much about bodily hunger but about poverty of the spirit. That includes you and me, no matter how much or how little money we have. That includes most of the human race. At some level we are poor in spirit.

The curmudgeon in me notices our poverty of spirit. The curmudgeon scoffs at the displays of Christmas decorations, gift items, and special sales to pull us straight from Hallowe’en to Christmas. We pause for a day or two or maybe the whole weekend at best, before we continue to rush headlong into the frenzy of consumption.

The curmudgeon in me also wonders why we so often choose to eat too much of particular foods every year. Once a year we’re expected to have a good time buying groceries, cooking for hours, and sitting down with family—the ones we live with or the ones we grew up with or the ones we found in community.

Once a year even the curmudgeons are supposed to feel grateful on schedule, whether or not we’re feeling especially thankful. We even tolerate Uncle Henry’s long-winded prayer while the gravy gets cold. We grudgingly admire the colorful lights against the cold and dark season.

Still, the curmudgeon in me softens more easily when I stop thinking so much of my own irritations and think about someone else. And if I open my heart as well as my mind, there is a change for spiritual enrichment simply by reaching out to some person or pet who needs to be noticed.

Maybe we’ll give a loaf of bread, a donation of money, a coat, or a can of soup for Hungry Harry. Maybe it will be a gift of the spirit, a word of kindness, a listening ear, a smile, a phone call, a letter, or a visit.

These are gifts that we all need. We need to give them and we most certainly need to receive them. I am truly grateful for what I have, mostly from the good fortune of the time and place of my birth. Here are a few things for which I am grateful. They feed my body first of all, but mostly they feed my spirit: -physical well-being, including food, shelter, security; -work that is real, with an opportunity to serve; -an ethical framework for making choices; -a context of love and respect, for myself, for others, and for the larger world of living things; -an opportunity to learn, from people as well as books; -resilience in the face of evil, tragedy, and hardship; -and something beautiful to notice and appreciate. What are some of the things for which you are grateful? . . . [family, children . . .]

But Thanksgiving, however heartfelt, must be more than gratitude. The Rev. Richard Gilbert suggests that “religion begins in gratitude and ends in service.” We begin with gratitude by virtue of being alive on a beautiful planet. Gratitude sustains us and lifts our spirits. Gratitude seeps into our consciousness even in the midst of loss and pain. On the other hand, service takes both physical and spiritual energy.

As Gilbert says, “To move from a spirituality of gratitude to a spirituality of service - to move from thanksGiving to “thanksLiving” is a very long and difficult step.” “ThanksGiving and ThanksLiving - one for gratitude; the other for service - one a happy holiday; the other a time of reflection. Why have I been so blessed? What obligations flow from that blessing? How much is enough? Those questions have deep implications not only for our social values, but also for our spiritual lives.”

“Thanksliving”—I like the sound of that: to live with an attitude of thankfulness that might just inspire us to give of ourselves. In my journal I put an asterisk about especially wonderful events and ideas. Looking back through it reinforces the fact that blessings abound for me and the people I love. Probably even for the people I don’t love!

One of the reasons I became a minister was a calling to give back to the world some of what I had received through no particular effort of my own. Gratitude for the countless blessings granted me through no merit of my own moved me toward service In turn, the opportunity to serve has continually brought fresh blessings into my life, and for that, I give thanks.

In the words of a Latin American prayer: "O God, to those who have hunger, give bread; and to us who have bread give the hunger for justice." The gift of life is yours and mine. . . . Let gratitude sustain us and let service be our prayer.

Amen

--L. Griswold Williams

First UU Church in San Antonio has some of these words engraved in stone at the entrance to the sanctuary: Love is our sacrament. Service is our prayer.

But our own mission and vision statements say nothing about love. Key words include diverse, consensus-based, spiritual, non-judgmental, nurturing, and demonstrating shared values, perspectives, and concerns. We aspire to be a place where mind and spirit are both challenged and cherished.

Love can be a value or an ideal, but not a doctrine. Love rests either on personal feelings and emotions or on an abstraction as in love for all humanity. I love Live Oak as a community, and I love many of your endearing qualities, including energy and enthusiasm, commitment and loyalty, the way you raise your children and the way we help you raise them.

Love has been a guiding principle in my life. God is Love, they taught me; later, God is a verb. So is Love a verb? It’s easier to be passively loving. Love as a verb demands something of us.

Jesus said to love one another, to love our neighbors as ourselves. Over time I have managed to expand my notion of neighbor and love them at least in the abstract. But respect and courtesy seem like more practical goals for daily interactions. In a letter Paul sent to the Colossians, the new Christians in the town of Colossae, he wrote,

As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, let love guide your life . . . and be thankful.

And Matthew McNaught with his substitutions would have suggested: “let respect guide your life…and be thankful”

You may not be concerned about whether the Lord has forgiven you. The greater need is for individuals to work through their disagreements and come to the peace of forgiveness. Go to the mountaintop of the world and look down. You will find cruelty, fear and hatred, bitter prejudice and warfare.

You will see devastation, most recently on the Gulf Coast—nearly 1500 dead after two hurricanes; Guatemala—nearly 1500 dead in mudslides; Pakistan and Kashmir—40,000 dead from the earthquake; Niger—40,000 dead from drought-induced famine; hundreds of thousands now homeless around the world and dispersed all over the country, even to the apartments across Live Oak’s back fence.

Knowing all this does two things for me. It reminds me that my own difficulty in living a life of love is nothing compared with a struggle for survival. It also compels me to consider: How can love for humanity in the abstract translate into love for my neighbor?

By imagining myself in the shoes of someone whose family was buried alive, I can continue to give to trusted organizations and to try one small deed at a time if I am physically unable to do more.. I can also recognize our common humanity, and the need to work for a world where fear and distrust do not throw up a sandstorm that prevents love and respect from forming. Mark Morford, who writes for the San Francisco Chronicle, had these suggestions in the face of the world’s tragedies:

Personally, I suggest balance, a little bit of everything. Stay informed, read like mad, feel the world deeply . . . Study the news intently and donate money to charities and volunteer when you can and, if nothing else, quite literally hunker down and pray your [head] off . . .

Some of us can do a lot, but all of us can do a little, listening to our children and their dreams, being there for a stranger who doesn’t need more than a smile, remembering the widows mite, which was all she had to give and for that she was blessed.

How can we as a congregation embrace one another through life’s challenges? We can be witnesses who see with a hawk’s eye view rather than get tangled in exhausting details. We can also remind one another that who we are, deep down, is the true blessing we bring to each other. We are all, in the end, like newlyweds, new mothers and fathers, discoverers of great truths with joy in their heart, fellow travelers on a long and winding journey that will never end.

Enjoy the trip. Should we bother with Friendship? Should we bother with Love? And all of God’s people said: “Sure”!

Amen