Rev. Eugene N. Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
November 20, 2005 Thanksgiving & Consecration Sunday
Ephesians 5: 15-20
I know many of you have gone through this, but for me this will be a first – as I was thinking about this worship service today and preparing my sermon, it dawned on me all of a sudden that this would be my first Thanksgiving without my mother. Since I left home for college, I never really went back to Arizona for that many Thanksgivings, and for the last few years my mother was often too ill to celebrate Thanksgiving. But always I could call and talk with her, ask her how she was doing and wish her a Happy Thanksgiving. But I can’t do that anymore.
And as I was thinking about my mother and Thanksgiving, I began to reflect back on all the family Thanksgivings as I was growing up and the cast of characters around our table. It was always the same. My parents and my two sisters, me, my grandmother – my mother’s mother, we always called her Ma – my Aunt Glee and Uncle Roy – Glee was actually my grandmother’s sister (so she was my great aunt and we called her Glee Boy) and then a friend of the family, a sort of adopted aunt, Lucile, who we always called Cile. Cile was one of those people who was always old – as long as I can remember, she was always old. It seemed like she was old from the time she was born. But I remember that Cile was a great baseball fan, we would always discuss baseball. All the way through high school, every Thanksgiving, it was always the same people around our Thanksgiving table. And anytime Glee had cooked the turkey, it was predictable, she would always say said the same thing – how disgusted she was that the turkey was so dry and how she could never get it moist. It was always the same.
I was thinking about them and realize that now, there is only me, my one remaining sister and my father… the only ones left. I think now about the loss of my mom and about all those empty spaces around that Thanksgiving table. Of course, I have my own family now and for that I am very grateful indeed – a family that may in fact be changing and growing and I am excited about that. Still, I remember those empty spaces. And to make matters even worse, this past week our cat Moses, he just loved Thanksgivings – you couldn’t get him out of he kitchen once he started smelling that turkey – he would park himself on the kitchen floor all day hoping for anything that would fall his way – with all his ailments, he just finally crashed. After sharing 15 Thanksgivings with Moses, we had to put him to sleep. I’m going to miss telling him to get off the table.
I find myself in a gray mood as we approach this Thanksgiving. But as I was thinking of our text, it was actually helpful for me to spend some time with Paul’s words here in Ephesians: “in all things… give thanks for everything.” It has also been helpful for me to think on our own Congregational heritage, on that first Thanksgiving shared by our Pilgrim mothers and fathers.
Over the years we have romanticized that first Thanksgiving which was actually pretty harrowing. You know the story. Half of those hearty souls who, in the name of religious freedom, sailed crossed the Atlantic on the Mayflower in 1620, died in their first year in the new world. All but three families dug graves in the rocky New England soil to bury a husband, wife or child. They had brought plants and seeds with them on the Mayflower, along with provisions for the first winter. The barley they planted did poorly. The peas failed altogether. Starvation was a real possibility. But they persevered.
And as the weather improved, things took a turn for the better. They met an Indian brave, Squanto, who taught them how to plant and care for corn. He also showed them how to catch fish, tap maple trees for syrup, and where to find deer and other game. The weather in that first autumn in New England was beautiful, but more importantly the corn harvest was plentiful. And so William Bradford, the Plymouth Colony’s governor, set aside a day of Thanksgiving and invited the Colony’s new Indian friends for a harvest festival.
But also remember these were people of the Bible. They knew about ancient Israel’s harvest festivals, how the Israelites, at the end of a successful harvest, always thanked God for the bounty of creation and for having delivered them from slavery to freedom. And so our Pilgrim forebears thanked God for the harvest, but also for something more…they gave thanks for God’s grace and love, for the guiding presence they had experienced, the strong hand they felt leading them, and the love that had sustained them in the face of so much tragedy and pain. They understood that God is to be thanked and praised in good times and not-so-good times. In all things they gave thanks.
From time to time you have heard me mention one of the great thinkers and saints of our generation, Abraham Joshua Heschel. Late in life he suffered a heart attack from which he never fully recovered. A friend who visited him in the hospital found him weak and barely able to talk. But he was able to say this: “Sam, when I regained consciousness, my first feeling was not despair and anger. I felt only gratitude to God for my life, for every moment I have lived…I have seen so many miracles.”
“Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of time…be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God at all times and for everything…”
Give thanks for everything. Even as this text as been a comfort to me, as I said earlier, so also it has challenged me. How is it humanly possibly to give thanks for everything? Not too long ago, I hit the wrong button on my computer and erased an entire sermon…on Friday! Many thoughts filled my mind as I was reconstructing that sermon, but thanksgiving was not one of them! On a more serious note, how to give thanks after a tragic accident, the death of a loved one, for illness which saps our strength, or fear and anxiety which sap our spirit? Thanks for everything? Paul can’t be serious...can he? And was Albert Schweitzer serious when he said, “The greatest thing is to give thanks for everything. The one who has learned this knows what it means to live. That person has penetrated the whole mystery of life: giving thanks for everything."
A story shared by my colleague, Ken Barnes. I shared it with the Rotary Club a while back:
The man whispered, “God speak to me.”
And a meadowlark sang, but the man did not hear.
So the man yelled, “God speak to me!”
And thunder rolled across the sky, but the man did not listen.
The man looked around and said, “God let me see you.”
And a star shone brightly, but the man did not notice.
The man shouted, “God, show me a miracle!”
And a child was born, but the man did not know.
So the man cried out in despair, “Touch me God and let me know that you are here!”
Whereupon God reached down and touched the man…
But the man brushed away the butterfly and walked on.
The point? Says Ken, “Don’t miss out on a miracle just because it isn’t packaged the way you expect it.” The same could be said of life.
When I think of the Pilgrims or Abraham Heschel or Albert Schweitzer or the Apostle Paul, who wrote his words about giving thanks in all things from a prison cell, what did they have in common? I think it is this: They received life just as it came to them – in its pain and beauty, its joy and sorrow, its wonder and tragedy – they received it all as a gift from God’s gracious hand. They accepted the gift and made everything they could of it.
They all knew pain. But they refused to ask, why me? – why doesn’t the world treat me better? But they did ask: what can I give back to the world in gratitude simply for having been part of its wonder and mystery…for having been invited by God to share in the great banquet of life.
One of my mentors in ministry, Bill Nelson, captured the spirit of our text when he said, “I cannot imagine not to have been born, not to have known the beauty and wonder and fascination and pain of life, nor the incredible mystery of being human. Is that not enough for which to thank God? Is that not enough for which to thank you - all of you who are my friends and neighbors in this warp and woof of life?” This from a man who has spent pretty much the last decade as the chief caregiver for his wife after she suffered a debilitating stroke.
I don’t want to downplay or trivialize our trials and pain in life. I know, I’ve been there, we’ve all been there. There are times when, in spite of what Paul says, any words of thanksgiving turn to ashes in our mouths. Some of you may be feeling that way even today. But I guess the question raised by our text is this: can life still be good without being perfect? Knowing all of life’s ambiguities, can we still be thankful for its grace notes, even when it isn’t packaged the way we expected?
I apologize for being so personal today. Next week will be a different sermon. And I apologize if I’ve perhaps shared this last story with you once before. I recall that after my sister died in June, 1996, it was a pretty gray summer. I didn’t feel much like doing anything. Even fishing was just sort of lifeless. But I remember that fall, I went to a 49er game with Tom and Pat Dilley, and a couple of other folks from our church. We were sitting there enjoying another of their famous tailgate parties right before the game. I was trying to get into the mood. Then from somewhere there was music – I think it was a small band that was walking through the parking lot. Some people started to dance. The sun was shining. And, I still remember this, in that moment it occurred to me that there is still grace, there is still joy, that life remains a precious gift. And there in that parking lot of all places, I was thankful.
This is what I believe Paul is talking about when he urges us to give thanks for everything. Yes, there are empty spaces around that Thanksgiving table. But even as I say that, Betty and I prepare for new ones to join us. And for that we are very grateful. I have known pain to be sure, but also such overflowing grace…and I have seen so many miracles.