“Living in gratitude” Message preached on
November 19, 2017
I don’t know about you, but
whenever I open myself up in prayer, the first word that comes to mind is
“thanks.” Of course, there are times when gratitude doesn’t seem to fit
the occasion, especially when facing into something difficult or
frightening. Even then, however, “thank you” is not far away.
Like my upcoming surgery. I would
not, on my own, choose to head down this path. Pain brought me here.
Reading too far ahead in “Dr.” Google scared the bejeebers out of me. But
this sarcoma needs to come out of my body. Along the way, there is much
for which I am thankful: that an MRI picked up this “entity” within; that
heaven and earth seemed to move quickly to bring me to surgery; that I
live where I do, with seeming medical wonders nearby; that I am surrounded
by caring/praying/loving people.
Might I say that the day before this surgery is somewhat similar.
On our own, some of us might not choose to head in the direction of an
upcoming meal surrounded by family. There may be old wounds, as yet
unhealed. Or ways of functioning as a family may not work as they once
did, if they did. And I imagine many tables this year will try to avoid
conversations about politics, a minefield of late. And yet, we long for
that deeper connection that family promises, even though it sometimes
doesn’t deliver.
Still there is much for which to be thankful. Sometimes it’s the
difficulties we face that open our eyes to see what really matters. We
certainly wouldn’t choose for things to turn out as they did. But, you
know, somewhere along the way our prior expectations fall aside and we
come to accept, if not appreciate, what remains. It’s funny how sometimes,
behind the exterior of a brother or sister (or other relative) with whom
we have struggles over the years, lies a person we might actually
tolerate, if not even (dare we say it?) like. Be grateful for who they
are, not for who you think they should be, or who they once were.
Gratitude is a funny thing. It surprises us along the way. And
usually, it is the little things we pick up on. They kind of grow on us.
But, again, we may not choose to go where we end up. Like what will happen
after this surgery. What fun physical therapy is! If you believe that,
I’ve got a lemon of a car to sell you (not really, but you get the point I
hope). We don’t choose the pain. We may, however, come to be grateful for
it.
Those folks in Thessalonika, for instance … like most followers of
Jesus in those early years, they probably would not have chosen things to
turn out as they did. It was hard work to shift from the expectation that
Jesus was coming back soon, that God’s realm was going to come into being
right before their eyes. That was one of the earliest beliefs. “Thy
kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” … that is,
NOW! Oh, not now. Later, when
we least expect. How do you deal with changing expectations?
Indeed, how do you deal with changing expectations? Funny thing is, along
the way, we may just start seeing our brother or sister in a different
way. They might just surprise us. Or we might just surprise them. Or
better put, since we’re talking about the eyes of faith, God is doing the
surprising. Not one of us is God finished with yet. Not one of us. And God
is not finished with this world, even if it is in sad shape. Even if we
are
treating the environment like a cesspool. Even if we’re treating each
other in the same way. God is not finished yet. And God’s timetable is
God’s timetable, not
ours. Always has been.
Strangely enough, there are folks treating each other right, caring
for the least, the lost, the left out, the lonely. There are folks who are
doing justice, loving mercy, walking humbly – believe it or not. And
they don’t wear badges of conservative or liberal. Gratefully, they are
there. In fact, they are all around us, if only we’d look. In fact, they
are in this very room. Cheer each other on, even if it doesn’t seem like
things are getting better. God is not finished yet. We’re not set up for
failure by God. Nope! By God, we’re not set up to fail – whether we’re
talking church, or family, or surgery, or society, or world. I feel an
attitude of gratitude starting to well up in me, little by little.
Now, I know I’ve mentioned this before, but our final hymn was
written in the middle of a horrible experience. Martin Rinkart was a
pastor in a city caught in the middle of a long conflict. We think the war
in Afghanistan or Iraq has dragged on too long. Try 3 decades. Afterward,
historians called it the Thirty
Years War. The town of Eilenberg was devastated by both violence and
plague, the latter brought by refugees from all over. There were days when
Pastor Rinkhart had to perform up to fifty funerals. Having said that, can
you believe the hymn, “Now thank we all our God” grew from that soil? But
it did, even then, even there, gratitude sprouted. And we have been entrusted
with this marvelous Thanksgiving song.
God is not finished yet. Live in
gratitude.
Truly, “Thanks” is often the first word that comes to mind. ©2017
Peter
L. Haynes |