© Rev. Lance Carrithers, all rights reserved.  Permission required to copy any portion of this message by any means. Email for permission: lance@firstchurchdc.com

"Opportunities for Thanksgiving"

Lamentations 3:19-26

       Thanksgiving.  It’s Pilgrims and Native Peoples sitting down together for a feast.  It’s returning thanks to the Creator and Power of the Universe for that which has provided life--water, food, shelter.  Thanksgiving.

            We are a people, generally of abundance.  I mean, compared to the rest of the world.  We have more, consume more, waste more and want more than any other people on the planet.  Our hearts should be full and overflowing with Thanksgiving, wouldn’t you think? 

            But there’s something about abundance that does not always point us toward returning Thanks.  You’d think it would, but the truth is, abundance seems to push us inward, abundance, if we’re truthful, often produces more desire, greed and even a sense of entitlement.  “Sure, I have a lot,” we’re tempted to think, “but then again, I worked hard for it, I earned it, I deserve it.”  Remember our text a couple of weeks ago about the rich man, pulling down his barns to build bigger ones so that he could hoard up his abundant crops for himself, allowing himself to eat, drink and be merry?  Where was the man’s Thanksgiving to God for the abundance?  All he could think of, was himself, his own desires, his own comfort.

            If thanksgiving doesn’t come from abundance, having much for which to be thankful, then where does it come from?  I chose a very unlikely text for this Thanksgiving worship today.  It comes from Lamentations.  You know what a lament is, right?  An expression of sadness.  An expression of regret.  A heavy sigh.  That’s a lament.  And the book of lamentations is filled with heavy sighs.  And...downright cries for pity. 

            What we have today as the book of Lamentations in the Bible, is a collection of community prayers and liturgies by the Jews living in exile in Babylon.  Removed from their homeland, the promised land, with the holy city of Jerusalem and the temple in ruins, the people of God are now living in a far off land, oppressed by their captors.  And they gather to raise their voices before God.  Now, these voices are not raised in praise.  They are raised in lament, wondering if are being tested, punished or perhaps even neglected altogether by the Almighty.

            Listen to some of the words from Lamentations: “Judah has gone into exile with suffering and hard servitude; she lives now among the nations, and finds no resting place; her pursuers have all overtaken her in the midst of her distress.” (1:3)   Hear it?

            Here’s another excerpt.  “Cry aloud to the Lord!  O wall of daughter Zion!  Let tears stream down like a torrent day and night!  Give yourself no rest, your eyes no respite!” (2:18)

            You’ll find statements like these throughout Lamentations.  The gathered people are a broken people.  They are filled with despair.

            Why turn to Lamentations for a message of Thanksgiving? 

            Because Lamentations is more than only statements of lament.  Interspersed between these verses of woe and anguish are, remarkably, amazingly, statements of hope and Thanksgiving.  Listen again our text for this morning, and I want you to listen to the turn it makes.  From despair, to Thanksgiving.

                ¹⁹The thought of my affliction and my homelessness is wormwood and gall! ²⁰My soul continually thinks of it and is bowed down within me.

            21 But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: ²²The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; ²³they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

            Hear it?   “My soul thinks constantly of my affliction, and is beaten down...”   but then, “...I have hope, the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end, they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness God.“ 

            Astonishing, I think.  The people gathered before God, filled with despair and agony, and yet, able to acknowledge God’s goodness.  God’s providence.  God’s steadfast love.   Does that surprise you?  It did me.

            Until...

            Until I thought about moments where I have been witness to genuine Thanksgiving.  And I realized that the very times when I have seen people express thanks for God’s mercy, thanks for God’s providence are the very times they are experiencing some of the most difficult times of their lives.

            I’ve been along bedsides when family members are quietly keeping watch over the suffering of someone they love.  Their hearts broken, their grief unable to be comforted.   The preacher’s job is to be present, to simply be...a representative of God’s presence in terrible times such as these. 

            And as I stand or sit close by, I am given the gift of listening to what the family members have to say.  “God has been so good to us, we’ve had 60 years together.”  Or “I am so blessed to have had such a good daddy.”  Maybe after death has come following a long, hard battle,  “Thank God she’s not suffering any longer.  She’s at peace.” 

            As I reflect on those moments, and the words of thanks that I’ve witnessed at such times, it occurs to me...Thanksgiving is often borne out of suffering.  Out of pain.  Out of grief.

            Maybe that’s why Lamentations, filled with these words of lament, are also dotted with words of praise.

            “The Lord is good to those who wait.”   “Although God causes grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love; for he does not willingly afflict or grieve anyone.”  “But you O Lord, reign forever, your throne endures to every generation.”

            Even our own American story of Thanksgiving follows this pattern.  We love to remember how the early colonists and the native peoples sat down together and ate a bountiful meal on that first Thanksgiving.  But that meal, and the prayer of thankfulness that was offered for it, came after a severe period of starvation, death and despair.

            We all know the outline of the story.  The Pilgrims seek freedom in America to worship the way they want, arriving on the Mayflower.  Their first winter is very difficult. There are not enough houses built when the snow begins to fall. Many Pilgrims stay aboard the Mayflower through the winter. The Pilgrims suffer from the bitter cold and lack of food, and only half survive.

            In April, the Mayflower sails back to England. But all the remaining Pilgrims choose to stay.  The Wampanoag people, native to this land,  share their knowledge of hunting, fishing and farming with the Pilgrims.  That fall, Plymouth Governor William Bradford declares a feast to give thanks to God for their first harvest.  90 Wampanoag join the 52 Pilgrims for this three-day feast.   The English serve wild turkeys, geese, and ducks. The Wampanoag bring five deer, along with lobsters, clams, oysters, and fish to accompany the harvest produce: cucumbers, carrots, cabbages, turnips, radishes, onions, beets, corn, and wild fruits.

            The Thanksgiving prayers offered at that first Thanksgiving are not simply given up for the abundance on the table before them.   They lifted  prayers of thanksgiving for their very survival-- and for the sacrifice of those no longer with them.  For God’s goodness experienced through a time of great trial.  For deliverance from that trial.

            Now, we must be careful.  It is one thing to notice that it is hardship that often produces thanksgiving.  It is quite another to suggest that hardship is a pre-requisite for thanksgiving.  I am NOT suggesting that in order to be more thankful, we must endure more suffering.  I don’t want to leave you today thinking, “I sure hope something bad happens so that I can discover what it is to be thankful.”

            No, I think it’s simply good to remember, God is good.  And that goodness, while evident in our prosperity, is most realized in our deficiency.   Those times when we have had to rely on God, to get through. 

            A story. Told by a teacher of mine, Eugene Lowry. 

            When Lowry was a young preacher pastoring his first small church, it came time for the annual stewardship campaign.  As the pledge cards came in, the financial secretary came to the young pastor with a concern.  An old widow in the congregation had pledged what was surely too large of a sum .  “I looked at that card, and with the woman in my mind, I found it unbelievable that she could come up with that amount in the coming year.”

            Soon, Lowry was driving over to the widow’s small home.  He was welcomed inside with open arms.  Tea was put on, and the old woman seemed delighted with the company.  Finally, the young pastor got around to his business.

            “I’ve come to talk to you about your tithe,” he began.

            “Oh, I sent the card back, right away,” she said.

            “No, no, we received your card.”

            “There is a problem?”

            “Um, well, if you’ll forgive me for asking, but I am concerned how you can afford such a large pledge.  I know you are on a fixed income, of very limited means.  I was wondering if we shouldn’t mark your pledge down to a more manageable size.”

            To which the old woman replied: “You will not!  I know exactly how much I plan to give.”

            “But you won’t have enough left to live on,” Lowry argued.

            “Reverend, I don’t have to worry about that.  Don’t you see?  Everything I ever need, I know the church will see me through.  When I lost my husband, my strength and meals for weeks on end came from my church.  When I was in the hospital, my church sent cards and made visits to make sure I was alright when I came home.  They modified my bathroom, and found me this walker.  When my porch was falling down, who do you think came to fix it for me?  Reverend, I don’t need money, I’ve got my church.  The Lord takes good care of me through my church.”

            The young pastor thanked her for her time, and started for his car.  On his way out, he saw a large, black, Lincoln Town Car parked by the curb nearby.  On it were vanity plates.   These license plates on the Lincoln, read, in bold, capital letters,  “EARNED IT.” 

            Now then, seems to me this illustrates the difference between true Thanks giving, and a feeling of entitlement, which never fosters a heart of Thanksgiving.

            The widow, who had been through some terrible times, had also witnessed God’s goodness and had experienced God’s strength through those times.  Her heart is thankful, here spirit kind, her face filled with light.

            The owner of the Towne Car with the vanity plate, had plenty, in the way this world counts and keeps score.  But if had ever known what it was like to rely on God’s goodness to get through, it had long been forgotten.  “EARNED IT” is his cry.  DESERVED IT.  GOT IT.  GONNA KEEP IT.  DONE IT ALL BY MYSELF.  And I wonder what his heart must be like.

            The widow’s words might have come straight from the Bible.  “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: ²²The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; ²³they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “

            This Thursday, many of us will sit down with family or friends.  We’ll eat too much.  Some of us with watch some football.  Others will start working on Christmas lists and Christmas chores.  We’ll be thankful for a day to do those things.   

            Suppose though, we take some time, I mean some REAL time...to reflect upon just how much God really has given us.  Suppose we take some time to remember.   And let gratefulness take root in our hearts.   No need to wait until difficult days visit us to do it.   Suppose we say our prayers of Thanksgiving, even as we have so much to be thankful for?  For Great is God’s faithfulness.  Morning by morning...great is God’s faithfulness.