A Sermon By John Brierly McCall, D. Min. – November 20, 2011
Deuteronomy 8:6-20
Our scriptures are so rich and filled with spiritual wisdom. There’s poetry and prophecy and history and theology and so much more, all wrapped together. As a whole scripture tells us of the relationship of God to God’s people across the centuries, as the covenant was formed and tested and shaped by many events. We’ve explored much of this since Elsa and I began last June focusing our sermons on the lessons from the Hebrew scriptures, what Christians commonly call the Old Testament.
Today’s reading suits us well here in the US as we mark our national holiday of Thanksgiving. While I like to say that Thanksgiving is our least ambiguous holiday, it is surely – at its root – a spiritual observance.
Cutting to the heart of the matter, today’s reading reminds us how we call on God when life is tough; we push God away when life is pleasant; we become full of ourselves when we succeed. We forget.
It shouldn’t be that way – but lots of us act that way lots of the time.
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.
Have you ever prayed like that? Probably not we who gather 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.
Has this always been so? I suspect, but maybe it’s a little easier to be self-absorbed in today’s world. If you remember your grandmother the way I remember mine, you also recall her blunt prescription: “count your blessings!” That wasn’t a suggestion but a commandment. 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 tried to recognize the unseen hands that make your life possible?
- Have you 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 and butterflies that fly south without getting lost;
- Have you just stopped and looked and really seen 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; too easy to let creaking joints and porous memories persuade us that life is tough.
Life is hard for many people – including many of you. But many more of us are just anxious that life might get a little less easy and comfortable than it has been. We’re used to feeling invincible and now we’re forced to recall that anything built with human hands will disappear.
I visited an elderly woman {not from our parish} and listened to her story carefully. She told me that her husband died young, leaving her to raise several children alone. She worked two jobs and struggled to keep food on the table and shoes on their feet. There were disappointments and frustrations, and lots more she told me. I felt she was sharing her personal treasure like handing me a sacred gift. Then she simply said “I guess some would say my life has been pretty hard; but life doesn’t have to be easy to be good.”
Life 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.
Moses told the Israelites the hard times were going to pass. They would reach the land flowing with milk and honey. He warned them that 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 say “we gained all of this by our own doing.”
That’s our story, too. 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 true thanksgiving really are times of congratulating God for having chosen us as 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, security, power, influence, greed… these gods have many names but they’re all pretenders. And all will fail us.
We 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 thanksgiving as a day of “solemn humiliation.” It was to be a day to stand before God without pride or medals or certificates or awards. “Eat humble pie,” grandma would advise. I bet that would go well with the turkey on the table this week.
Further, we the people need to tell our elected leaders that their posturing and pushing may have pleased the influence peddlers but have betrayed the people in our democracy. Government panels and corporate bail-outs can’t fix the national malaise. We need to reclaim a sense of humility to match the overbearing sense of pridefulness that has been so obvious in our national narrative.
Secondly, we who are actually safe, yet still anxious, even 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 or medicine.
- Can we hear the cries of the homeless and hungry who are still our neighbors?
- Can we hear the frustration of those who Occupy Wall Street and pledge to address the economic realities of the 99%?
- Can we challenge 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.
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}
In the midst of the realities of your life; no matter what challenges or sorrows weigh on you, may God’s spirit and blessing give you gratitude in this season of harvest and hope.