Gratitude is tricky when it shifts our focus on the consolations of God rather than the God of consolations
2 Kings 5:14-17
2 Timothy 2:8-13
Luke 17:11-19
The expression of gratitude at the healing of the leprous Samaritan is a familiar story. “He returned glorifying God in a loud voice and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.” We use that text every Thanksgiving Day to show the importance of gratefulness in the life of a Christian. It reminds us that everything is a gift. As an old hymn puts it, “We thank thee then, Oh Father, for all things bright and good, the seedtime and the harvest, our life, our health, our food…. All good gifts around us are sent from Heaven above, so thank the Lord, oh thank the Lord for all his love.” Catholics emphasize the centrality of gratitude in our spiritual life by calling our central act of worship, the Eucharist, which we can translate as the thanksgiving prayer. So, gratitude. But I am reminded of retreat I gave at Auburn University many years ago. I asked the students about their faith and one responded by saying that his dog got hit by a car and they raced to the veterinarian and saved the dog’s life. He was so grateful to God and it confirmed his faith. While I was impressed with the story I couldn’t help but think: what if the dog died? Would that have shaken his faith? We are grateful to God when we win the lottery, when the doctor gives us good news, when the family gets along. Those things confirm our faith. But what about the other times? Could the leper give thanks to God before the cure? What about when the seedtime and the harvest, our life or health fail? Do we feel grateful only when getting the good gifts from heaven above? What about when experiencing loss, grief, disappointment, failure? Is the saying true: God is good all the time or just when I’m getting the goods?
Let’s go back to the Eucharist, to the thanksgiving prayer which how we as a community relate to God. At Mass we are giving thanks for the cross, for Jesus’s redemptive death. This is my body to be nailed and crucified. This is my blood which will be shed for you. The Eucharist is about death, about Christ’s death, surely, but ours as well. The Eucharist is a prayer of thanks that God takes the worst that can happen and redeem it, save it. St. Paul puts it “if we have died with him we shall also live with him.” My guess is that Jesus was not feeling all that grateful during the hours he was hanging on the cross. But because his life was oriented toward doing the will of God, because he had placed himself in an attitude of trusting in the love God had for him, he could say, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” The thanksgiving which we express around this altar flows from the union which Christ experienced with the one he called Father. We give thanks that no matter how things seem to be going God isn’t finished yet. The God of Good Friday is the God of Easter Sunday.
Gratitude, as least the way that the healed leper, the way that most of us, experience it can deceive us. We all too easily imagine that the Lord is blessing us when things are going well. We can wonder where God is when things are going poorly. Thankfulness is more than giving high fives. It also includes hanging in there with clenched fists. We see a concrete example of what that looks like among those who are caring for someone in failing health – a spouse, a parent, a child. They do so not because it is enjoyable or makes them feel happy. They do so out of love. This person matters to them and so, despite the thankless nature of the task, they do what is necessary to treat them with love. No matter the cost, they are grateful to have had the chance to give of themselves to the beloved. The love is what matters.
Gratitude can be tricky. It can cause us to focus on the consolations of God rather than the God of consolations. I am grateful when I am getting something and disappointed when I am lacking. Gratitude can shift the focus to me getting the gift instead of God giving the gift. To get the attention off of little old me and to keep the focus on our relationship with God we need to develop what I call an “attitude of gratitude.” Instead of waiting to receive some special blessing we must give thanks for the constant blessings that God showers upon us. Think of the Samaritan leper, for example. Imagine him “glorifying God in a loud voice and falling on his knees saying ‘thank you, Lord, that I can still move around, that I have enough to eat, that I have ten companions on my journey. Despite my troubles I still experience divine blessings.”
How might that work in our lives? For example: Old timers in the parish still lament the loss of our old church and newer members notice our lack of space. Instead of obsessing about what is missing we instead give thanks for the community that gathers around this altar, for our feeling of unity and welcome, for the intensity of prayer promoted by this space. Gratitude for what we have reminds us of how close God to us. Each of us can pull an example from whatever trouble we have in our own lives – health issues, financial worries, family difficulty, whatever. When we find things to be grateful for in the midst of our woes, that re-connects us with God and we learn to trust that the God who has brought us this far by faith is not about to leave us now. Thank you, Lord, for the sun and the rain, for food and friends, for the birds and butterflies, for hot showers and flush toilets. All these things and so many others remind us that you are carrying us every moment of our lives. Truly, God is good all the time.
