A Sermon by Sydney V. (Skip) Jackson – November 19, 2006

Texts: Genesis 45:4-10; Psalm 136 (responsively); 1 Thessalonians 5:13b-18

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for [God’s] steadfast love endures forever. – Psalm 136:1

[Joseph said] And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life. – Genesis 45:5

…give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. – 1 Thessalonians 5:18

 

"Give thanks in all circumstances…" writes the Apostle Paul. When I selected this verse as our stewardship theme, I wondered if it would work this weekend if things had turned out differently on Saturday. Is Paul really serious? All circumstances? No matter what? What if OSU had lost the game to Michigan yesterday? Our first reaction might be, "Get real!" How can this work when things go wrong? For good times, OK. But not bad times. But Paul is absolutely serious. All circumstances (he says) because, "this is the will of God." So what does that mean?

In Joseph’s case, he sits enthroned before his brothers–brothers who threw him in a pit and then sold him into slavery–and he ends up telling them that although they intended evil, God was actually the one who’d sent him to Egypt to preserve life. So thanks be to God. For Joseph is the one who conceived the plan that saves the Egyptian people and now his brothers from dying of hunger. It’s a matter of perspective, looking back with 20/20 hindsight. I’m pretty sure Joseph didn’t sit at the bottom of that pit with his brothers up top arguing about how to get rid of him, and say to himself, "Thanks be to God!" I doubt he looked to heaven while Midianite slave traders hauled him off to Egypt in chains and prayed, "Thanks be to God." And when Potiphar’s wife falsely accused him of rape and had him hauled off to prison, "Thanks be to God," was probably not his first thought. But in hindsight, yes.

It’s not unlike when I hear people at Alcoholics Anonymous meetings introduce themselves by giving their name and saying, "I’m a grateful alcoholic." I’ve said those very same words myself. But I don’t mean that I’m grateful for the all the suffering I experienced drinking or for the suffering I inflicted on others. What I’m grateful for is the ability in recovery to look back and catch glimpses of God’s loving presence in the midst of the suffering. I don’t believe God intended me to become an alcoholic to get me where I am now. I don’t believe God manipulated Joseph like a puppet through terrible experiences to leave him in a position to "preserve life." What mattered throughout was God’s loving presence. In fact, at the lowest point in Joseph’s story, in Genesis 39 when he’s been left to rot in an Egyptian prison, the storyteller breaks in to say, "But the Lord was with Joseph and showed him steadfast love." This is what’s most important in the ongoing story as we live into an unknown and uncertain future.

That’s the thrust of the wonderful call and response of Psalm 136–"O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for [God’s] steadfast endures forever." From the first moments of creation and sweeping through history, in good times and bad, there is one constant–"God’s steadfast love endures forever." Yes, the Psalm seems to jump from one highpoint to another–God brought Israel out of Egypt, God divided the Red Sea to rescue Israel, God rescues Israel from its foes. But the Psalm is far more than an exercise in saying "thank you" for whatever good things God has done for the people lately. For behind every highpoint is a low point. In fact, every highpoint leads to a new low point, which leads to a new highpoint. Joseph in Egypt may have saved his family (and Egypt) from starving. But Joseph settling his family in Egypt leads to the Hebrew people being enslaved. Moses’ "Let my people go" leads to a hopeless situation on the banks of the Red (or Reed) Sea. A parting of the waters leads to 40 years of wandering in the wilderness. Entering the land of promise leads to cycles of violence, war and peace, exile and return, conquest and revolt, conflicts continuing right up to the present day in the Middle East.

In the vast sweep of things, being grateful only for the good times becomes problematic, for what’s good and what’s bad may not be so very clear. Consider a famous wisdom story from China called "The Lost Horse"–

Once upon a time, there was a farmer in a small country whose horse ran away. His neighbors, when they heard, came to his farm and said, "Oh what a terrible thing that your horse ran away!"

The farmer replied, "Maybe, maybe not. I only know that my horse ran away."

Later, the farmer’s horse returned and brought two wild horses with it. His neighbors, when they heard, came to his farm and said, "What a good thing that your horse ran away!"

The farmer replied, "Maybe, maybe not. I only know that now I have three horses to feed and two horses to tame."

Later, the farmer’s son was bucked off one of the wild horses and broke his leg. The neighbors, when they heard, came and said, "We were right the first time about your horse running away. Your son’s leg would not be broken if that no-good horse had stayed home."

The farmer replied, "Maybe, maybe not. I only know that my son has a broken leg."

Soon the farmer’s country became involved in a border war with a neighboring country and all young men were called up to fight in the war. The farmer's neighbors said "that horse running off was a good thing after all! If the horse had stayed home, your son’s leg wouldn’t have been broken, and he would have been drafted into the army."

The farmer replied, "Maybe, maybe not. I just know that my son does not have to fight in the war."

[There are many versions of this story. One called "The Lost Horse" appears in Jane Yolen’s collection, Favorite Folk Tales from Around the World (Pantheon books, 1986).]

In some versions the story continues with such things as the son making a bad business decision that loses the farm… but then the farmer and his son have moved elsewhere when the enemy army invades and massacres the neighbors.

Psalm 136 isn’t satisfied with "Maybe, maybe not." "O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good," it sings, "for the steadfast love of the Lord endures forever." What a profound statement of faith! It’s a ringing declaration of radical trust in the goodness of God! And this chain of gratitude ends in a stunningly inclusive generosity, as the psalm celebrates God "who gives food to all flesh."

Gratitude is not a feeling, subject to changing circumstances. It is a choice. So when Paul says "give thanks in all circumstances," he is not saying we have to grit our teeth and spit out a "Thank-you, God" when faced with the very worst life may throw at us–cancer, the death of a child, depression, addiction, loss of a job. Rather, gratitude is an attitude. Giving thanks in all circumstances is a consciously chosen way of living in the world and of learning to know and trust and respond to the enduring goodness of God.

As I said, gratitude is a choice. At times it’s a hard choice. Listen to poet Carl Sandburg as he struggles with and makes that choice in his poem, "Our Prayer of Thanks."

For the gladness here where the sun is shining at evening on the

weeds at the river,

Our prayer of thanks.

For the laughter of children who tumble barefooted and

bareheaded in the summer grass,

Our prayer of thanks.

For the sunset and the stars, the women and the white arms that

hold us,

Our prayer of thanks.

So far life is good, and the poet’s gratitude is easy. But in the final two stanzas his choice becomes much harder.

God,

If you are deaf and blind, if this is all lost to you,

God, if the dead in their coffins amid the silver handles on the

edge of town, or the reckless dead of war days thrown

unknown in pits, if these dead are forever deaf and blind and

lost,

Our prayer of thanks.

God,

The game is all your way, the secrets and the signals and the

system; and so for the break of the game and the first play

and the last,

Our prayer of thanks.

Learning and practicing gratitude is a spiritual exercise. I want to close with a responsive reading of one of the psalms. I’ve taken the familiar lines of the 23rd Psalm (in the King James Version) and added a refrain, as in Psalm 136. Your refrain is, "Thanks be to God." (I’ll indicate when you are to come in.)

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…

Thanks be to God.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters; he restoreth my soul…

Thanks be to God.

He leadeth me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake…

Thanks be to God.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me…

Thanks be to God.

Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me…

Thanks be to God.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies…

Thanks be to God.

Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over…

Thanks be to God.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever…

Thanks be to God.

Indeed–"Give thanks to the God of heaven, for [God’s] steadfast love endures for ever." Thanks be to God. Amen.