A sermon by Senior Minister John B. McCall, November 23, 2008
Deuteronomy 8:6-20
If you listened carefully to the reading from Deuteronomy much of the message is already clear: we become proud and smug when we become successful; we call on God when life is tough and we push God away when life is pleasant.
We know it shouldn’t be that way – that this attitude brings on the additional burden of feeling spiritually isolated and brittle – but we do it just the same.
In the old movie Shenandoah, James Stewart played the role of a widowed but prosperous farmer during the Civil War. Early in the film he sat down for supper with his sons and prayed something like this: “Bless this food, Lord. We plowed the land, we planted the seed, and we irrigated the fields. We harvested the crops; we cooked it, we canned it, and we served it up. It took a lot of work and we did it all. But we thank you anyway because I promised my wife on her deathbed I would, for the children’s sake. Amen.”
How many of us feel pretty much this way? Certainly not here inside the sanctuary – but other folks “out there!” They sit at the great banquet of life and explain to the host that they’ve worked really hard and therefore deserve everything they have. Rather than some sense of gratitude, there’s often a sense of entitlement.
It hasn’t always been that way. If you remember your grandmother the way I remember mine, you also recall their simple prescription: “count your blessings!” Nothing can knock sense into us as quickly as taking an honest look at all the things we’ve received without charge.
I know you’ve checked your retirement accounts, your IRAs, your 529’s and heaven-knows-what else recently. Have you also taken the time to count your blessings?
• Have you recently caught your breath at the beauty of the sunrise, the miracle of birth, the wonder of the seasons, and the rhythm of the waves?
• Have you pondered the intricate design of a spider web or marveled at the geese that fly south without getting lost;
• Have you ever stood beside a loved one who was dying and been awe-struck by the miracle of life itself?
It’s too easy to let a gyrating stock market steal our awareness of the miracles that touch our lives every day.
Life is hard for many people – including many of you. But for many more it’s not really hard – our problem is that we’re anxious that life might get a little less easy and comfortable than it has been. We’re used to feeling invincible and now we recall that anything built with human hands will disappear.
I visited an 81-year old parishioner recently and had the privilege of hearing her story for the first time. She told me that her husband died young, leaving her to raise five children alone. There was lots more she told me, like handing me a sacred gift, and then simply said “I guess some would say my life has been pretty hard; but life doesn’t have to be easy to be good.”
Lift doesn’t have to be easy to be good. There are blessings to be counted even when we ache inside because of painful disappointments and profound loss. To remember to count our blessings means to keep God in the equation and to keep life in perspective. I confess that’s hard for me, and maybe for all of us who’ve had it easy.
Moses told the Israelites the hard times were going to pass. He warned them of the very human temptation: when they had plenty of food and wonderful places to live; when all their investments had matured and everything seemed just right, they would be tempted to overlook God’s sustaining presence. They would be likely to say “we gained all of this by our own doing.”
Do you see? Their story is our story, the human story. I do it, you do it, we all do it. The more things are as we want them to be, the more easily we can cut God out of the picture. Who needs a god when everything fits in the plan as we have drawn it up? Who needs a doctor when we’re healthy, a counselor when we have it all together, a friend when we’re on top of the world?
Could it be that our times of thanksgiving really are times of congratulating God for having chosen us to be partners?! Are we inclined to forget we’re laborers in God’s vineyard and think of ourselves, instead, as senior partners in creation?
For many in our nation small gods have pushed aside the One Living God. Success, power, greed, independence… these gods have many names but they’re all pretenders. And they all will fail us.
We all need to look deeply and find the solid place to stand. We have to rebalance our souls as carefully as we rebalance our cash flow.
I have two simple suggestions:
First, remember the wisdom of the Pilgrims. Governor William Bradford of the Plymouth Bay Colony proclaimed that first thanks¬giving as a day of “solemn humiliation.” It was to be a day to stand before God without pride or medals or certificates or awards.
We need to reclaim a sense of humility to match the overbearing sense of pridefulness that has crept into our national spirit. I remember grandma talking about “eating humble pie.” That would go well with the turkey on the table this week.
Secondly, we who may be anxious and fearful about the future have to resist the temptation to cut back, pull in, and turn away from those who are literally on the precipice – those who suffer day to day without enough food, or heat of medicine. Government panels and bail-outs cannot fix the national malaise.
We have to stand up and speak out against the kind of hatred exhibited by the owner of the Oak Hill store in Standish; we must hear the cries of the homeless and hungry who are still our neighbors. We must confront the efforts to maintain a two or three-tiered system that grants full rights to some and not to others.
In all things, we must remember that God is just and God’s presence makes life good, even when it’s not easy.
So, I invite you today, as you leave, to take packet of corn and to place it on your table on Thanksgiving day. Let it help you and those you love to remember — never to forget those who are hungering and thirsting for food and for justice and for mercy.
Take heed lest you forget the Lord your God. When you have eaten and are full, when you have built goodly houses, when all that you have is multiplied. Beware, lest you say in your heart “my power and my might have gotten me this wealth.” Then you shall remember the Lord your God who brought you up out of the land of Egypt, through a great and terrible wilderness, and into this Promised Land. {vs. 11, 12}