Thanksgiving

Even as the world around us lurches toward the last month of the year full of angst, anger, and animosity, there is more than ample reason for giving thanks.

Begin with our presence together on this quiet night in this soul-sustaining sanctuary. Here, all is well. All is as it should be. We are together in faith and friendship. We have shared time together, doing the things necessary for any community of faith. We have served together. We have comforted folks in grief or distress. We have walked with our neighbors so they would not be alone. We fed (in every manner of feeding) those who were hungry (in every fashion of hunger). We note these things not in blatant self—aggrandizement, but rather as assurance that God is with us. If God is with us, then there is hope indeed, no matter what the daily news offers. God sustains our communion and community, so give thanks to God. God has not left us. God remains right here, right now.

Now go home—not literally, please, we aren’t quite done here yet. Most of us are preparing for the descent of family upon us or being the family members descending. Tomorrow remains one of the few times in our time and place where family takes centerstage. We will gather as generations around the common table. We will eat too much. We will watch football, some of us the only games we will watch all year. We will laugh. We will swap stories. We may fuss and fight—although I think that stereotype is overplayed. We may even shed a tear. But we will be with the people who brought us into being; who love us every day; and who are connected to us in a way we are connected to no one else on earth. Again, it is another sure and certain sign of God’s presence. God created us for community and communion. That we come to be within families is simply confirmation of our created nature—it will be this communion that shapes us and forms us. It is also a tangible manifestation of God’s creative Spirit at work within us, bringing us to fruition as God’s children. So, give thanks to God. God is still forming you, making you, and helping you to be.

Now go large—the earth remains the beautiful garden of God, no matter what we as human beings do with it or do to it. The seasons shift, bringing an onslaught of color, fresh air blown by northerly winds, and skies streaked with clouds and tinted all manner of the rainbow as the sun slides overhead. It produces every fruit, vegetable, and meat we will consume tomorrow. Yes, the world is also home to us, meaning it bears the stains and scars we inflict as willful children lost in our own selves. We have too much garbage to dispose of. We have too many wars raging. We have paved over vast acres of green, green grass. There is a less diverse menagerie of critters for us to enjoy. But it remains steadfastly and stalwartly the garden of God. It will be here long after we are gone. It will be the New Creation in the time to come. So, give thanks. We have time to awaken again to its wonder and miracle. We have time and space to reacquaint ourselves with gardening, turning the damage to healing, including tending for the most precious of all—the children of God all around us. God is good and grace abounds.