It is good to be with you all this morning. I truly mean that – it is good to be here in this moment. I don’t mean this is any judgment at all towards those who are not here, but there is something meet and right about coming to church on a holiday called “thanksgiving” to give thanks to God who created, blesses, nourishes, and keeps us. Yes, I like the parades and stuffing as much as anyone, but Thanksgiving without singing hymns of thanksgiving and receiving not just a yeast roll, but the very body of Christ is what makes Thanksgiving not just a secular holiday, but also a holy day for us as people of faith.
And
this idea of being here, in this moment, is central to thanksgiving. Our
society has a way of keeping us out of the present moment. We are conditioned
to be thinking about the past – either in a self-inflated way and always talking
about how great we were or in an overly-critical way where we analyze our
mistakes and missed opportunities. So many of our disagreements are about the
past – they did this to me, and so that will dictate how I move forward. This
isn’t to say that the past doesn’t matter, it’s just not where we live.
Sometimes
though we make the opposite error – we live in the future. You know the
formula: once fill-in-the-blank happens, then I’ll be able to do this thing. We
end up worrying so much about the future, and trying to control it, that we end
up not really paying attention to the present. As we know, none of us know what
tomorrow will bring, or even if we’ll have a tomorrow, and yet we all fall into
that trap. Of course, this doesn’t mean that planning or working ahead is bad, but
too much of a focus on the future means that we spend our lives pursuing a
world that will likely never really exist.
Between
the past and the future is now. It’s the only time that we can be certain of. The
present is the only time that we can forgive, or love, or be joyful, or lament,
or think, or be thankful. This is a part of the reason why our society is in
such a quagmire – we avoid the present because we’re still fighting the battles
of the past with an eye towards future power. It’s why so many of us are
reactive these days; because we don’t take the time to be reflective, everything
seems to catch us off guard. Whether it’s a phone in our pocket, a computer on
the table, or a tv on the wall, there’s hardly a place we go these days where
technology isn’t there to distract us from the present moment.
In
The Screwtape Letters, CS Lewis writes letters in the persona of a demon
who is mentoring a younger demon on how to lead us, humans, away from God. In
one letter comes this lesson, “The present is the point at which time touches
eternity… Our business is to get them away from the eternal, and from the present…
the future inflames hope and fear… and the past is frozen and no longer flows;
the present is all lit up with eternal rays.” I particularly appreciate that
line – “the present is when time touches eternity.” Of course, the hymn “O God
our help in ages past” is absolutely right – God was with us in the past. Likewise,
“Lo, he comes in clouds descending” is also true – God will be with us in the
future. I am not denying that. But if we’re talking in terms of hymns, we don’t
think of “be still and know the presence of the Lord” nearly enough.
From
the present, we are able to have a different and healthier relationship to the
past and the future. We can reflect instead of agonizing, we can understand instead
of evaluating, we can accept instead of denying, we can appreciate instead of
judging, we can hope instead of worrying. And the reason why I bring this all
up on Thanksgiving Day is that thankfulness requires all of these
present-oriented postures. We cannot be thankful for the past if we are scrutinizing
it instead of reflecting upon it. To be thankful, we must slow down and be
alive in this moment, receiving it as the gift of God that it is.
And
this is exactly how Jesus would have us live. In this part of the Sermon the
Mount, Jesus says, “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you
will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food,
and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air… Consider the
lilies of the field… Will God not much more clothe you?... Indeed your heavenly
Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom
of God and his righteousness.”
If
we are to look at the birds of the air or consider the lilies, we have to pay
attention and be in the present moment. Looking at the birds means not looking
at our phones, or books, or projects. Considering the lilies means not
considering the conversation we just had or the meeting that is coming up.
Instead, Jesus is telling us to stop and just be.
And
the reason why Jesus is able to do this himself and model it for us is because
of his complete trust in the Father’s abundance. He tells us “how much more”
God will provide for us. We heard it in the reading from Joel, that even though
there were years of locusts and disaster, God provides us with green pastures,
fruit-bearing trees, and abundant rains. The Psalm proclaims a similar truth, “Those
who go out weeping, carrying the seed, will come again with joy, shouldering
their sheaves.” And it’s not even so much that God will provide, but rather
that God has already provided. God’s abundance is all around us. Yet, because
of our fear, our insecurity, our competitiveness, which is all a way of saying
because of our sin, we take that abundance and turn it into an over-abundance
for some and scarcity for most. But that does not change the fact that there is
an abundance.
There
is, therefore, a justice component of being in the present. When we stop and
notice the disparity between those living with an abundance and those living in
scarcity, we start to ask questions like “Why do we have enough and they do
not?” These are hard questions, and so we avoid the present when we notice such
inconvenient truths. Again, as Lewis wrote, the present is lit up with eternal
rays, and those rays shine light into the dark corners of our lives and world.
In
the present moment though, we receive the abundant grace of God and this urges
us on towards a response of thankfulness. The place where grace and gratitude meet
is in the Holy Eucharist. That word “Eucharist” is of Greek origin and it means
either “good thanks” or “good grace.” In the Eucharist, we are made present to
the Passion of Jesus, his sacrifice of love for us and for our salvation. And
being present to this mercy and grace, a response of thanks is summoned within
us. The result is, hopefully, that we become Eucharistic people – people aware
of God’s abundant grace towards us in each and every present moment and people
who have a posture of humble gratitude in response. And so celebrating the Holy
Eucharist on Thanksgiving really is meet and right for us so to do.
There
is a beautiful simplicity in this sort of presently-minded faith. Yes, we can still
have cares and concerns, but we don’t have to feed them. Instead, we seek first
the kingdom of God, that clear and present reign of God’s love and peace in our
world. And, by the grace of God, when we are present in the Kingdom, all these
things that we need are given to us a well in God’s abundant provision. Now, I
know it’s time to get on with things: to watch the parade, hit the road, or get
the turkey in the oven. Those are good things to do today as well. But make
sure you also take some time to consider the lilies today, for they are waiting
to remind us of God’s abundance grace.
