Homily for the Community Thanksgiving Service
November 21, 2021
+
Thanksgiving is all about serving others, rejoicing in what we do have, and finding love in gathering together. It can be overly idealized, of course, and there is much good work being done to view our history more realistically. But aside from tradition? We bring this on ourselves. We imagine perfectly behaved toddlers, spouses and siblings loving one another without tension or disagreement. We envision gorgeous table settings with heirloom pieces and beautiful flowers. We plan impeccably curated dishes that everyone will rave about; we may even secretly dream that this will be the thanksgiving that goes down through the ages, sung as of old ‘in memoriam.’ But even as we imagine those things, our doubt and anxiety creep in, pushing God to a less accessible place.
Which means that. . . we proceed to tie ourselves into knots with worrying. We stress ourselves to the max over what could be an easy coming together by putting impossible pressure on ourselves. Lest you think that this observation is gendered, at least one or two of our boys will be frying the turkey this Thursday!
We know that the hope that we have for all of us coming together builds a pressure that can grow— well, like a virus. With no disrespect meant to Southern Living Magazine, it doesn’t help when headlines such as “Fall Tablescapes That Will Make Your Holiday Guests Swoon” add freshly ground salt. But this is not where we are supposed to linger as people of God.
We are missing The Rev. David Surrett tonight, who was supposed to preach. We pray for his healing now, and in the coming weeks. When I was suddenly placed in the position of preaching, I decided to leave his choice of Scripture— as the bulletin was already finished. (Not mentioned in my above litany is worrying about too many changes for the Parish Administrator!) When I began to work on this homily, the way David had selected the Scripture brought me up short.
In the Revised Common Lectionary for Year B, which many of us use, the Thanksgiving Gospel includes most of the one that Athena read this evening. Selected is Matthew 6: 25-33, and we heard Matthew 6: 24-34. This means that the frame, or the bookends, if you will, are different than what we might normally use for this feast day. I do not know exactly where David was going with this, but it resonated with me immediately. Preceding the Gospel we might usually hear for Thanksgiving are these words: “No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.” When we worry about how we will gather, or about what we will wear and serve and eat, or about how things will look, we are definitely serving the wrong master. Could it be that the focus we choose is at the root of everything that makes us anxious and unhappy?
Psalm 126 is one of the “song of ascents.” It was probably composed after the exile, and God’s restoration is the focus of their gratitude. (https://enduringword.com/bible-commentary/psalm-126/) The gratitude is so intense that it becomes poetic, “When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, * then were we like those who dream.”
When we are worried, we are as separated from God as surely as the Israelites felt held captive during the Exile. A good question to ask in the face of this Scripture involves finding the balance between the trust the Gospel invites, and the need we feel to work and provide for family. (https://www.sacredspace.ie/scripture/matthew-624-34). When we take over everything, (as we mistakenly feel is our due,) faith erodes, and when that happens, worry becomes inevitable.
But gratitude builds trust just as surely as worry erodes it. When our focus is on God, and not wealth or possessions or control (that last one especially targets me more often than I want to admit,) our hearts and our gaze swing open to something much larger than the narrow path upon which we tend to focus. In his prayerful poem, I am Nothing, Thomas à Kempis used the first half of his verse pondering humility and his relationship with God, wherein he offered to “cast away all self-esteem,” so that Grace would come to him, and light enter his heart. (http://www.findingsolace.org/i-am-nothing-by-thomas-a-kempis/) He then pondered what would be different for him when his focus had shifted:
Now, Lord, look upon me.
Your gaze can turn my nothingness into newness, my darkness into light,
my misery into joy, my death into life.
When I become nothing,
I discover both myself and you.
When I admit I deserve only punishment,
you shower me with blessings.
You are my salvation,
my power,
my strength.
(Ibid.)
It is no accident that we are singing so much tonight! Hymns of thankfulness have a way of working into our hearts and playing in our heads as we work. As all of our churches have been engaged in Thanksgiving outreach this week; we feel the gratitude anew that we have enough to share. But we have also gathered together as some of the Oakland Avenue churches to give unified thanks for our communities of faith and for the cities of Rock Hill, and Fort Mill and Charlotte, for some of us commute. For all of you who came out tonight to pause, and pray and sing, I hope that this service might in some way be a ‘reset’ for you before a week that may be difficult or stressful.
The second bookend in John’s Scripture for tonight concludes: “So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”
Where there are people, there will always be trouble. (Apologies if this is somehow new to you!) But a dear friend reminded me resonantly a few days ago that the possibility of love is also ever present. This is the focus we are called to choose; how dare we miss the fact that Jesus dwells within? It is in His Name that we gather and serve, and rejoice.
Amen.
Comments