Monday, October 14, 2019

Thank you

This is my homily for today, the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C.  The readings for today are here.

“One of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.”

“Thank you”.  Two words, so simple, and yet so hard for so many of us to say.  And how easily it may slip our mind to speak those two words or write them.  It’s almost as though we take for granted all the good things that have been given to us by others.

In today’s Gospel, only one of the ten healed lepers came back to thank Jesus. We’re left wondering the same thing Jesus did: where were the other nine?

But before I start being too judgmental about the nine, perhaps I should press the pause button and ask myself, “How thankful am I?  For example, speaking of healing: do I ever thank my doctors and nurses and therapists for doing the things that cure my illnesses and keep me healthy?”  I’m sorry to say, I may not thank them as much as I should.  I pay them – but we shouldn’t confuse paying with thanking.

My wife Therese and I did an experiment earlier this week that opened my eyes about living a life of gratitude.  I have to say, she is much more tuned into living a thankful life than I am.  She has done gratitude journaling.  I asked her how she picked up that spiritual habit: who was the spiritual master that taught her this?  I was expecting her to say, “Theresa of Avila”, or “John of the Cross”, or some other great spiritual saint.  And she didn’t disappoint:  she replied, “Oprah Winfrey”. 

Therese and I had this conversation at the end of the day, and she challenged me to think of a few things that had happened to me that day for which I should be thankful.  So, I mentally reviewed my day.  It had been a rather typical workday for me, which means that it was stressful and frustrating.  I found plenty of things to complain about, but I couldn’t come up with anything to be thankful for.  After a few minutes, I said, “Nope, I’ve got nothing.”

At that point, she did something which, I’ve noticed, she has done frequently throughout our marriage: she sighed, and said a quick silent prayer for patience.  Then she helpfully reminded me of a few things. She asked, “For example, did anyone unload the dishwasher tonight so you wouldn’t have to do it in the morning?”  “Oh, yeah,” I said, “You did.  Thank you.”.  Then she said, “Isn’t it nice to have clean clothes to put on every morning?”  “True,” I said, “Thank you for doing my laundry”. 

Soon, we were on a roll.  I was thankful to have such a good wife, and four wonderful children, a good job, and a roof over my head.    I was thankful to be able to be a deacon at St. Edna.  I was thankful to have my parents still living, and to be able to spend time with them.  I was thankful to be in such good health.  I was thankful to be able to work with so many wonderful volunteers and staff members on various ministries here at St. Edna.  After a few minutes of this, I started to realize how blessed I really am.  And I became filled with gratitude.

It turns out that the word “gratitude” comes from the same Latin root, gratus, from which the word “grace” derives.  The relationship between gratitude and grace isn’t just linguistic; there is a spiritual connection, too: when we live lives that are filled with giving thanks for the gifts God has given us, God bestows grace upon us.

It became clear to me, from that little exercise with Therese, that living a life of gratitude doesn’t come naturally to me.  Living a life of dissatisfaction and resentment comes much easier.  I realized that to be thankful requires some practice.  And I wonder, for how many of us, that’s the case. 

So: we’re going to do an in-class exercise.  In a moment, when I say, "Go," I want you to turn to someone who is here with you, or is in the church building here somewhere, and thank them for something.  It could be something really important, like, “Thank you for being my mom.”  Or “Thank you for being the love of my life”, or “Thank you for forgiving me when I did something to hurt you.”  Or it could be something fairly trivial, like, “Thank you for holding the door for me,” or “Thank you for bringing me a cup of coffee this morning.”  The list of things for which we can offer thanks is endless.  I know some of you are here by yourselves, so if you don’t know anyone else here this morning, I’m going to walk down the center aisle, and you can try to think of something to thank me for.  Are you ready?  Go.

(Assembly does the exercise.)

Ok – and now I’m going to thank you for working with me on this little experiment in gratitude.

I am going to close now by letting you in on a secret.  It’s not my own secret; I got it from someone else.  I’ve always found that it’s more fun to tell other people’s secrets than our own, don’t you agree?

This secret was suggested to me in a blog post by Fr. Michael Van Sloun.  He’s a priest of the St. Paul and Minneapolis Archdiocese.  Fr. Van Sloun’s secret is how to keep mass from getting too boring.  Have you ever thought to yourself, “Mass is boring”, or “I don’t get anything out of mass.”  Here is his secret: mass is not something to get stuff out of; it’s a thing to put something into.  And that thing which we are called to put into mass is … thanksgiving.  That’s the secret: for mass to mean a lot for us, for it to be spiritually fruitful for us, we should spend our time at mass thanking God.  I promise you that, if you spend time at mass each week, thinking of things for which to thank God - you could even come in each week with a short list in your head of things for which you want to thank him -  you will start to get a lot out of mass.  Coming to mass will become the highlight of your week.

You see, God has done incredible things for us.  Not only did he make us, and not only are his guardian angels watching over us and protecting us each and every day: not only that, but God’s son Jesus offered himself to save us.  He died for us.  And here’s what’s even more amazing about that: that sacrifice wasn’t just something that happened 2,000 years ago and then ended.  It’s still happening today, too.  That act of love, which saved us, and for which we owe Jesus our prayer of thanks, will be made present to us here in a few minutes when we celebrate the sacrament of the Eucharist.  Jesus will continue to save us. 

Did you know that “Eucharist” means “Giving thanks”?  It does.  So it turns out, it’s not really much of a secret at all; in fact, the very thing we’re supposed to do is the title of the celebration itself.

That’s the secret: to keep mass from being boring, and to get a lot of spiritual benefit from mass, spend time thanking God.  We just took a few minutes to thank one another, so our thanking muscles are all warmed up and stretched out and ready to go.  So now, as Jesus offers himself for us, let’s thank him.  Because he’s giving us the gift of himself.  He doesn’t have to.  We don’t deserve it.  But he does it anyway.  Because he loves us.  For that, let’s pour out our hearts in thanks to him.  Jesus, thank you.

16 comments:

  1. You hit this one out of the ballpark, Jim. I'm going to have to bookmark it to come back to later. I especially like the part about the meaning of Eucharist being thanksgiving.
    Our pastor spoke on the healing of the lepers, about how Jesus gave them back not only their health but their life. They got to go back to their community, their family, their work. All the things that we tend to take for granted, or maybe even complain about. Until we don't have them anymore.

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    1. Katherine, thanks for your kind words.

      I really like your pastor's approach, too. There are so many directions that a simple passage can take us.

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  2. This would have been the perfect sermon for me after a week of working on giving thanks. The week was somehow triggered by wondering which psalm "All Good Things" in Godspell is based on. Turned out, it wasn't a psalm; it was a German harvest hymn. Thanks to Google we can all be smart. So I has been playing the two versions, Godspell's and the original German in translation all week and thinking about it. So if I had walked into St. Edna's Sunday -- bang! Perfecto. Prescient deacon.

    How did your folks do with the exercise?

    There is a helpful Website at St. Louis University that offers background and thoughts on each Sunday liturgy. Among the thinkers is Fr. Dennis Hamm, SJ of course, of Creighton U. He noted (in 2001, reprinted last week) that when Jesus told the lepers to go show themselves to the priest, all started south. (Jesus was on the Galilee/Samaria line, Luke says). The nine were going to the temple in Jerusalem. The Samaritan had a problem: He couldn't go to Jerusalem, where he wasn't wanted; his normal destination, also to the south, would have been Mount Gerizim. So he had to think about where he was going, and when he thought, he reasoned that he was supposed to go where he would meet God, but in light of what happened to him, the sacred place was where Jesus was. And so he went back.

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    1. Wonderful commentary by Fr. Hamm!

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    2. Tom, I'm glad to hear that you've been trying to live a gratitude-filled life.

      Re: "All Good Gifts": yes, several texts from Godspell are not original compositions. I believe "Turn Back, O Man" and "Day by Day" also are old hymn texts; and I think there are at least one or two others. I first encountered the German hymn setting of "All Good Gifts" in the breviary I use for morning and evening prayer (Katherine, if you have the one-volume Christian Prayer, it's in there - although I'm too lazy to walk across the house to find the book to look up the number). Interestingly, there is a third verse in that version, which wasn't used in Godspell; it's the 2nd verse in the German version, and the English translation goes something like this:

      He only is the Maker
      Of all things near and far;
      He paints the wayside flower,
      He lights the evening star.
      The wind and waves obey him,
      By him the birds are fed.
      Much more to us, his children,
      He gives our daily bread.
      (Refrain)

      Pretty good; I don't understand why Schwartz didn't set it for Godspell.

      Those old hymn text writers usually stuffed their original, metrical texts with biblical allusions, even when the work wasn't intended to be a translation of a biblical passage.

      Tom, the little "thank you" experiment with the assembly went pretty well; it seemed to me that many or most of the people there were game to give it a try. I did walk down the aisle, and several people (most of whom I knew already) did reach out to me to thank me for this or that. I had to sort of hustle back to the pulpit or they may have kept me there for 10-15 minutes. For the same reason, I didn't ask the pastor to join me on that jaunt; for him, a reception line would have formed and we'd have been there all afternoon.

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    3. The last three lines of "Day by Day" are from a prayer of Bishop St. Richard of Chichister, whose feast (observed in England) is June 16.

      One of my deacon buddies, who is about your age, blames Godspell and felt banners for the current state of the Church. When I want to needle him, I start humming "Day by Day." But the first time I see him in Advent, I greet him with "Pre-eee-eee-pare, thee, the way of the Lord." He knows it's coming and tries to head it off. But he never succeeds.

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    4. Jim, the song in the Breviary is titled "We Plough the Fields and Scatter"; it is #47 in my one-volume. The German tune is Wir Pflugen und Vir Streuen. One thing that bugs me about the breviary is that it doesn't have an alphabetical listing, nor an index of the hymn tunes. Of course mine is 20 years old, maybe they have fixed it by now.

      Tom, if you really want to bug your friend in Advent, hit him with "Patience, People".

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    5. Wow! "Patience, People"is almost the definition of "lugubrious." But I'll stick with "Prepare Ye." In fact, I have been considering the purchase of a shofar this year,like the one they used on the original cast recording.

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    6. Patience, People, is about the most boring song to sing that I know of. Well, "The Song of the Body of Christ" is close competition.

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  3. Thankfulness/gratitude is a big part of 12-step. In AlAnon, most people want to dump their bucket of grievances about living with an addict. Then they have an empty bucket. If they fill that bucket up with blessings they have counted, the grievances--and despair--don't get as burdensome. It's a hard sell to tell traumatized people they have to learn to feel thankful. But it's the only way to restore perspective. Many people can't do it. I'd say about one in ten.

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    1. Jean, that is an interesting insight about 12 step programs. When you say one in ten, do you mean that one in ten are not able to do it, or are able to do it?

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    3. Few people are able to develop any deep or lasting "attitude of gratitude" that the program preaches. Most people try really hard, but it takes years of practice. Just practicing or pretending to feel gratitude instead of fear, obligation, and guilt can be beneficial. But if the group is really hard-nosed about gratitude, it can be stultifying for those who "aren't there" yet.

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  4. Jim P: I have a Liturgy of the Hours that I haven't used for years. What cycle are we in?

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  5. We are in Week 4 of the 4 week cycle. Last Sunday was 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time. Tuesday is Oct. 15th, the Memorial of Teresa of Avila. I think that should cover most of your ribbons:-)

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