Doxology
Psalm 100, Philippians 4:4-9
November 24, 2019
Emmanuel Baptist Church; Rev. Kathy Donley
The Rev. Tom Gordon was a hospice chaplain in Edinburgh, Scotland for decades. He had end-of-life conversations with countless men and women, but one in particular stands out. An elderly man said he served as a sailor in the Second World War on ships in the North Sea. Through his tears, he shared an event that had haunted him throughout his life. He had been on shore-leave before his ship was due to sail. Two days before he was expected to join his ship in the Orkney Islands, he fell ill and was told by the doctor that he was unfit to travel. During his recuperation, word came that his ship had been sunk and only a handful of sailors survived. In between wiping his eyes he asked two questions. First, he asked: Why was I spared when others died? He had wrestled with this question for years and concluded that it was random chance. God had not spared him while condemning others. His second question was the one that still rocked his soul. He asked: Have I been thankful enough for the life I’ve been given? He knew that if not for a timely, microscopic virus, he most likely would have never survived his early twenties. He would have never experienced a million things he encountered over his long life. As the end approached, he wondered if he had sufficiently expressed his gratitude for the many extra years he had been given.[1]
People who live through an event in which most others die often experience survivor’s guilt. It can be a heavy burden. I appreciate that this sailor mostly chose to turn his survival into an occasion for gratitude.
Gratitude for surviving adversity, gratitude for getting through a hard time and experiencing a lessening in the level of difficulty – this is not an unusual reaction. This week, we remember our national story of Thanksgiving. Those who had endured their first brutal New England winter and had been taught how to cultivate food and fish in local waters by the indigenous people rejoiced when they had crops to sustain them through the next winter. The story says that they expressed their gratitude to the Native Americans who assisted them as they celebrated together in October 1621.
There is also another American Thanksgiving story. Instead of British pilgrims, this one involves Spanish explorers. In 1598, the last conquistador, Juan de Oñate led an expedition from Mexico northward. His party included 500 people and 7,000 head of livestock. It was a 50-day march which included seven consecutive days of rain followed by extremely dry weather. They ran out of food and water five days before reaching the Rio Grande, whose water saved them. After recuperating for 10 days, Oñate ordered a day of thanksgiving for their survival. The event included a feast, supplied with game by the Spaniards and with fish by the local people. A member of the expedition wrote of the original celebration, "We built a great bonfire and roasted the meat and fish, and then all sat down to a repast the like of which we had never enjoyed before. . .We were happy that our trials were over; "[2] The site of that Thanksgiving is now the city of El Paso, Texas.
Gratitude for deliverance and survival and an end to hardship seems to be a kind of universal human response. But if we have been spared that kind of difficulty, it may be harder for us to practice gratitude. We may fail to notice so many good things because we haven’t recently been deprived. Some of us don’t appreciate clean water coming from our faucets because we haven’t recently had to walk miles to the river to haul it or we haven’t had to fight with our government for years to get it lead-free. Some of us throw away food that went bad in the refrigerator before it could be eaten without much thought for the absurd daily abundance that makes that possible.
Maybe I’m just preaching to myself here, but I think there is an underlying truth about gratitude and noticing. What we are accustomed to, we don’t notice and what we don’t notice, we won’t be grateful for.
In the letter to the Philippian church, Paul says to pray with supplication and thanksgiving. Supplication suggests humility. Thanksgiving suggests gratitude. Paul is prescribing a spiritual practice – regularly asking God for what we need with humility and with gratitude. The fruit of this practice seems to be joy and peace.
The setting of Psalm 100 is often assumed to be that of a company of worshippers in front of the gates to the sanctuary, being summoned to enter a service of thanksgiving to God. Praise, thanksgiving, gratitude – the people of Israel were regularly called to these practices, to remember God’s steadfast love.
Some of us have been through hardship and we have come out with gratitude. Others of us have learned to practice giving thanks as spiritual discipline. And some of us would like to do this better. In practical ways, we would like gratitude to be a bigger part of our days. (Hold that thought for a moment.)
You’ve probably heard of the author Kurt Vonnegut. His best-known novel Slaughterhouse Five came from his experience as a POW in World War II. He was incarcerated in a miserable slaughterhouse five stories beneath street level during the Allied firebombing of Dresden. He and a few other prisoners emerged safely the next day to survey the utter devastation. That had a profound influence on his writing which expressed a deep appreciation for the gift of human life and the uniqueness of each person.
In his later years, Vonnegut often spoke on college campuses. In a presentation at the University of Wisconsin, he told the audience about his late Uncle Alex. He described his uncle as a graduate of Harvard who was an honest life insurance salesman in the Midwest. He was well-read and wise, and his principal complaint about people was that they so seldom noticed when they were happy. Vonnegut said, “So when we were doing something such as drinking lemonade under an apple tree in the summer, and talking lazily about this and that, Uncle Alex would suddenly interrupt and exclaim, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.’”
Vonnegut said to the college students, “Please notice when you are happy and exclaim or murmur or at least think to yourself: “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
Then he asked the students if they ever had a teacher who made them happier to be alive than they previously
believed possible. Nearly every student’s hand shot up. Vonnegut said, “Please say the name of that teacher out loud to someone sitting near you.” For a few moments the room was a cacophony of names. When the din of all those voices died down, he said, “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”[3]
How very much there is to be grateful for – fresh air to breathe, clean water, a landscape of beauty with mountains on the horizon, stories that inspire, antibiotics, friends who lend courage and comfort, laughter, music, prophets who gave their lives to bring a better world for others, sunrises and starlight, the moon on snow. So much beauty and goodness all around.
Yet, what we are accustomed to, we don’t notice and what we don’t notice, we won’t be grateful for.
Perhaps if we want gratitude to be a bigger part of our lives, then we can start by making a habit of noticing. We are about to enter what is for many, the busiest month of the year. It coincides with the season of Advent and this year, at Emmanuel, our focus will be on Joy. But it often happens that we rush through the season preoccupied and overscheduled. In our busyness, we fail to notice the goodness, the surprises, the moments of wonder, which could bring joy, and we miss it. So here is an invitation for this moment, today, before we plunge into that season.
I invite you to pause right now and consider what you want to notice. There are index cards in the baskets at the ends of the rows. Would you please start passing those? As it comes to you, take a couple of index cards and a pen if you need one.
Most of us have lived through a December or two. We have an idea of what events or activities are likely to be part of our schedules. Think about that for a minute and note for yourself what you want to be sure to be present for. I don’t mean just physically present, but what do you want to be so fully engaged in that you might have reason to say to yourself “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.” We’re going to take some silence and think about that for a bit. If you choose, you might take one of those index cards and write down those thoughts about what you want to pay attention to this Advent. Another way to phrase this question is what are you looking forward to? What are you excited about? I encourage you to be as specific as you can. If it’s a party, what about that party is exciting to you? If it’s an outdoor activity, name the sights or sounds or feeling of the activity. Gratitude is specific, so anticipation can be specific too. We’re going to keep silence together and do this for 5 minutes. Then I’ll call us back together.
* * *
During our closing hymn, we will pass offering plates. I invite you to place your index card in the offering plate, as a step toward increasing the intentional practice of gratitude. If you share your card in the plate, I will attempt to compile a list of all our intentions and get them into the newsletter which is going out this week. That will be a way to remind ourselves to practice gratitude and choose joy for the season. You don’t need to put your name on your card, but please try to write clearly so I can read it to reproduce it. You are welcome to use as many index cards as you need if you want to keep a copy for yourself and put one into the plate.
I’d like to close with one more reading of Psalm 100. This translation is the work of the professor with whom I studied the Psalms, Dr. Marvin Tate.[4]
A psalm for thanksgiving.
Raise a shout to Yahweh, all the earth!
Serve Yahweh with gladness;
Come before him with joyful songs.
Acknowledge that Yahweh, he is God.
He made us, and we are indeed
His people and the flock he shepherds.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
His courts with praise;
Give thanks to him, and bless his name!
For Yahweh is good; his loyal-love is forever,
And to generation after generation is his faithfulness.
Amen.
[1] . Tom Gordon, “Gratitude,” Look Well to this Day, (Glasgow, Scotland: Wild Goose Publications, 2014), p.234.
[2] https://texasalmanac.com/topics/history/timeline/first-thanksgiving
[3] John Buchanan, “This Our Hymn of Grateful Praise,” November 18, 2007. http://www.fourthchurch.org/sermons/2007/111807.html
[4] Marvin E. Tate, Word Biblical Commentary: Psalms 51-100, (Dallas: Word Books, 1990), pp 532-533.