2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a Ephesians 4:1-16 John 6:24-35
This week begins a four-part series on gratitude that will offer reflections on the lectionary in conversation with the book, Gratitude – The Transformative Power of Giving Thanks, by Diana Butler Bass. I’m calling this series “Gratefully Alive,” and yes – it is a play on words from The Grateful Dead.
You may remember that a couple of weeks ago, I flippantly contrasted the book Gratitude with the band named The Grateful Dead. Later that week I was given a soundboard recording from one of their live shows, which only confirms my calling to this ministry even further. Thank you. You know who you are.
Anyway, I think that contrasting these two is a good place to start. The Grateful Dead got their name from the genre of folklore that involves a person who is indebted in some way and is unable to receive a proper burial. The hero in the story is usually a stranger who pays the debt and provides a burial, usually at great personal risk. The spirit of the dead person then shows up in disguise to help the hero with some task that results in a reward. In some versions, the hero has to agree to split the reward before the spirit reveals its true nature.
I don’t know about you, but I can’t help but think about Jesus in a similar way. I can’t help but think of him as the one who became both victim and hero for our sake. I can’t help but think of him as the one who takes on our indebtedness, but at the same time, I can’t limit him or God to a simple transaction and a personal reward.
That’s why I would rather talk about being gratefully alive than gratefully dead. Are you with me? Good, because over the next few weeks we are going to be exploring the ever-expanding and ever inclusive reality of God’s grace. We’re going to look at the opportunities for the response that are opened to us through gratitude. Today we’re going to focus on the feeling of gratitude and how it moves in and through our lives together as people who follow Jesus.
A word of caution, though. This is not the type of gratitude that is the rote response of good manners. This is the type of gratitude that Diana Butler Bass calls, “a radical, transformative experience of wholeness and connection.” It’s kind of like the difference between being pulled over by a police officer as a young driver vs. as an adult.
As a young driver, I remember feeling fear and guilt and powerlessness. After all, I thought that I had come to a complete stop at the stop sign. When I received my ticket I said, “Thank you, Officer.” because I knew it was the right thing to do.
Today, when I have interactions with police or security details I still say, “Thank you, Officer.” The difference is that now I say it because I am truly grateful that someone puts her or his life on the line in hopes that the world could be safer for me and for my family. Behind that “thank you” is a knowledge that every officer at any given moment could make a bad judgement call due to stress or fear or personal bias or lack of good intel.
Even so, we need each other – in all of our human frailty – to act as that corrective, prophetic voice for one another. We need people in our lives who can be like Nathan for David, and we need to be like Nathan for others as well. David had no clue that he had even done anything wrong, and so often we can be the same way. Not that we are having others killed to take their wives, but all of us justify what we do with our lives and rarely think how far the decisions we make can ripple out into the world.
Rarely is it intentional, and mostly it’s connected to the idea that we are all fiercely and ultimately independent. Self-reliance is a good thing, but it can get in the way of our ability to truly feel grateful. Bass tells the story of a young man who was bullied as a child and dedicated his life to professional achievements to rise above his classmates. In his 30’s he bought a nice house in a coastal village in California, but he realized that all he felt was sadness that he did not have a beach view. He realized that without gratitude, he was still a little boy trying to protect himself from the bullies.
So, like this young man, first we have to recognize our need for gratitude, and that need draws us to confession, like David. In that confession, we realize we have already received grace upon grace upon grace. Even if we don’t think we need it, we have already received it. Even if we think we are not worth it because of things we’ve done or things done to us, we’ve already received it.
The grace and mercy of God are so abundant that they even become particular gifts to you and to me. Paul talks about this in his letter to the Thessalonians. In his letter he begs them (Southerner's translation, “Come on y’all!”) to live lives that reflect the grace of God.
Of course, he talks about gifts given to each, but the big deal is on their unity. As one theologian said recently, these are all things that you might find in any moral teaching or covenant community, but what’s different here is why. Paul isn’t trying to set up a more efficient organization. He’s pleading with them to live in a way that demonstrates what God has done through Christ, so that others might know about it, too! This isn’t a call to unity for the sake of uniformity. This is an invitation into a life together that changes the way you see and live in the world – over and over again and again!
It’s a calling into what I like to call “a more common unity.” That’s what we have, even here and now. We have, in the words of one of the members of our Hospitality Vision Team, “a theological diversity that requires us to say – even though I disagree with you, I still love you.”
That’s different from agreeing to disagree. The kind of unity we share is one that says I will hold your faithful perspective with mine, even as we are held by the grace and mercy of God that calls us again and again to this table. It is at this table that we see gratitude as more than the result of a transaction. Even though we may come to it like the followers of Jesus in our story today – hungry, hurting, in need of someone to take the reins on a world gone mad – this table always offers us something more than a means to an end.
That’s what they think they are looking for – a means to an end. Jesus even calls them out and says, “You came to me because I fed you.” Then they are so quick to say, “OK, since you’re not going to give us bread, just show us how to do it.” Jesus says, “You don’t get it. I’m not a party trick or an intractable. I am “of God.” Only that which is of God is going to last. Don’t focus on the temporary. Focus on the permanent.”
I can only imagine what they must have thought and what they must have felt. I don’t imagine that many of them were grateful. They had been following Jesus for days and even traveled across the lake to Capernaum only to hear Jesus say, “You want bread? You’re looking at him!”
Who knows if they understood at all, but we do. That’s why we come to this table. We know that Jesus is the one who connects us with the eternal and the divine. What we know is that Jesus is the one who confirms I am, and you are, and we are a part of something greater than ourselves. The abundance of our joy and the forgiveness we receive lead us to an awe struck wonder at what God has done, is doing, and will do.
I see it every time we share communion, but I often hear it when we celebrate it by intinction. Sometimes one of you will be overwhelmed enough that a response bubbles out and you say, “Thank you.” I used to want to correct that, and I kind of still do. Not that it’s wrong to say thank you. I’m standing here giving you something that I’ve told you is from God. It’s at least polite to say, “Thank you.”
That’s not so bad, except that even Jesus said that all gifts come from God. So, if you are feeling grateful for the opportunity to receive the bread and the cup, say “Thanks be to God!” Not only that but when you pass them to the person next to you, tell them, “This is the bread from heaven. This is the cup of salvation!”
Better yet, when you come to me, remind me that this bread and this cup are also for me! For certainly, sometimes I am like David, or Judas, or any number of despicable sinners that God has invited to this table.
I tell you who gets this – middle schoolers. Several years ago I was honored to preside over communion at the Massanetta Middle School Conference in Virginia. I told these kids that when they came forward they should remember how big God’s grace and forgiveness were. I told them, “Don’t just take a pinch or a crumb. Don’t be timid about the way you taste and see that God loves you! Rip off a chunk! Dive into that cup! Know that the Lord is in this place and very real and very present in this memorial feast!”
Well, it may not have been wise to tell 250 middle schoolers to have at it on the bread, but somehow we made it through. There was enough. God’s grace is always enough. In fact, it’s always more than enough.
The big question in all of this gratitude is stuff is not whether or not you feel grateful. It’s what that feeling moves you to do and to be. If that feeling moves you to confession, that’s a good thing. If it moves you to one tiny response that lets you check off the box of responsibility, then you’ve probably missed an opportunity. If it moves you into a life where grace and gratitude hold you in every trial and spill out into all that you do and say, then I’d say that you’ve been eating the bread of heaven.
In her book, Barbara Butler Bass quotes theologians and Holocaust survivors and psychologists and any number of folks all to say this: Every hour of life is a gift of grace. Grateful people are full of grace, and grace-filled gratitude will move you toward compassion, connection, and a level of unity with God and one another that will change your life – again and again, and again. And thanks be to God for that. Amen, Amen, and again I say, Amen!
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