thanksgiving '13

a kentucky sunrise

Something that’s becoming rather prominent in my readings of the letters of Paul is thankfulness (and not just because of thanksgiving). Over and over again, letter after letter, Paul doesn’t encourage Christians to be thankful: he commands it. Thankfulness isn’t something that comes naturally, and Paul might say that ingratitude is the chief idolatry, for it’s the great launching pad for “forgetting God” (according to Romans). We’re naturally inclined not to thankfulness and gratitude, but to greed and envy, which are themselves forms of idolatry. Gratitude and thankfulness take practice, and true gratitude expresses itself not in warm, fuzzy feelings of thankfulness but in generosity. That’s the litmus test of our gratefulness.

I’ve been told I’m too hard on myself, and maybe I am, but one of the most fascinating subjects in Christian theology (and, well, philosophy itself) is the human condition. I’m convinced human beings are inherently selfish creatures, motivated by thinking only for ourselves, showing kindness only to those whom we care about, and driven by impulsive, animalistic desires to be seen and to have. Our driving faculties, deep down, are lust and greed: seeking after we want with an insatiable appetite. Studying theology and philosophy on the subject has always made me look inwards, to peel back the layers, to be honest with myself, to overturn assumptions, to reexamine the motivations and inclinations in my every decision. It’s this self-examination that has confirmed such a “low view” on humanity, and I’m conscious of it every day. The end result is that I’m often “hard on myself,” and I have a right to be, since I’m well aware of those things going on “deep down” that most people don’t think about because they have better things to do than study wordy systematic theologies or esoteric Greek philosophy. Kudos to them. All of this to say, I’m conscious that envy plays a far greater role in my life and thoughts than gratitude, and the way out of this is to be cognizant of those things for which I am to be thankful, to really sit down and be honest: “What do I have to be thankful for?” Because we’re so inclined to focus on (a) what we want and (b) what we don’t have in comparison to others, such knowledge of our blessings (or luck, if you’re of that persuasion) doesn’t come to the forefront right away. Because this is something I’ve been thinking about lately, and because it’s Thanksgiving (thank you, George Washington, your legacy is intact!), here are some things I’m truly thankful for (or, at least, should be thankful for):

My Creator. My God is a God who is full of mercy, compassion, patience and love. It’s cliché to be thankful for such a God, of course, but the gratitude sinks a little deeper when we think about how far worse a god we could’ve ended up with. 

My Family. I’m thankful that I have a sister, someone who’s as quirky, strange, and awesome as me to call a best friend and confidant. I’m thankful for parents who truly love me, care for me, sacrifice for me, seek after my best interests, and who provided for me and continue to provide for me when/if I need it.

My Friends. It’s rare to have such good friends as mine, and we share a closeness like that of a family. More people than one have commented on my friend group: “I wish I had friends like that,” or, “Most people don’t have the kind of friendships you do,” and “I wish I could find a friend as close as all your friends are to you!”

A Meaningful Job and Awesome Co-Workers. Life isn’t about what we do to make money, but the set-up can be nice. Most people either hate their jobs or generally dislike them. I never dread going into work, I’m friends with everyone I work with, and when the thing you do to pay your bills enriches the lives of others, what complaints can you make?

My own cottage-style “Hobbit Hole.” Pics to come!

Likeable Personality and Not Ugly. Simply put, I’m a likeable person. Mo told me I’m the most laid-back person she’s ever met, and yet I know when to be serious. Brandon said I’m the most genuine, sincere person he’s ever met. I don’t really have any enemies, and people generally don’t have a reason to dislike me. I’m quirky, weird, funny, and a comic relief in the good sense of the term. And to top it all off, I’m not repulsive. I may not be a Clive Owen, and I may not stick out in a crowd, but I’m not ugly, either. That’s a gift nowadays, pure and simple.

My Youthful Looks. I hate it now—being called “fifteen years old” several times a week by people who’re first meeting you and learning your age gets a little old—but I know I’ll like it down the road. “Dad hated how young he looked for the longest time,” Mom told me, “but now he loves it.” When my dad helped me move into Restoration my freshman year at C.C.U., he was in his late forties and more than one person mistook him for an upperclassman. My wife won’t mind having the youngest-looking husband in our elderly small group when that time comes, that’s for sure.

Americuh! But seriously. I’m not super patriotic or anything (kingdoms come and go, and my love for early American history isn’t due to any sort of inherent patriotism), but the truth of the matter is that living in America, regardless of your own thoughts on our country, is a pretty damned good deal. I live in a land of safety and plenty, and even in my lack I have a ridiculous abundance (in my worst moments, my standard of living would take about for earths for every human being to enjoy my standard).

Intelligence. Intelligence is a gift from God that many people simply don’t have. I’m not just talking about the ability to retain information (and I’m certainly not referring to any semblance of “common sense,” which I lack; though common sense is just another term for “group think,” so maybe I’m just a nonconformist?). What I mean here is the ability to look at situations from different angles. I’ve found it to be rather helpful in life, and there’s wisdom found in it.

Friendships with people who think differently than me. Most of my friends hold different worldviews and approach life differently than I do, and I’m thankful for that. Iron sharpens iron in more ways than one.

My love of literature—reading it & writing it. Literacy is a big deal, and I have both the talent and the ability to not just read but to comprehend, and not just to write but to express myself on paper.

These are just a few things for which I really am grateful. Take any of these away, and my life would be far worse. It’s so easy, so natural, to focus on those things I don’t have, those things I want, that I miss out on all the blessings, all undeserved, that I experience in life. Most of the world has it far, far worse, and my own ingratitude is a stain on my pride. Maybe “thankfulness” is something I can start working on come January 1^st? It’d be nice to put it off, to roam familiar territory, but I’m thinking this is something that I need to practice daily—no, hourly—and something which should consume my thoughts: whenever I start thinking about what I don’t have, and getting all bundled up in knots over it, I’m going to reorient my mind towards those things I do have, those things I really can be thankful for. And, in time, I will be thankful for them, not just because I know I should be, but because I genuinely will be. I want gratitude for what I have to underscore my life, so that I’ll be a creature strangely content and satisfied with nothing and lacking in nothing.