Community Church Sermons
Year B
October 14, 2012
Twentieth Sunday After Pentecost
40 Days of Thanks
Luke
17:11-19
Rev. Rhonda
A. Blevins
Associate
Pastor
It was a
tiny, green ninja toy I must have picked up countless times before. But this time was different. This time, picking up that tiny, green ninja
toy brought tears to my eyes. Tears of gratitude.
For this
mother of a five-year-old boy, picking up toys for the umpteenth time usually brings
about frustration and annoyance.
Annoyance at my son for not picking up his own mess—frustration with
myself for not being a better mom—you know, the kind of mom who actually has her
kids trained to pick up their toys.
But on
this particular occasion, that tiny, green ninja toy in my hand made me smile
at first. For an instant, I was overcome
with joy and thankfulness for that messy five-year-old’s
presence in my life. For a moment, I
relished his childish wonder at such a simple little thing. For a second, I was happy—no, joyful. I couldn’t remember the last time I
experienced such joy. It came from a
place deep inside me—a place that had been closed off for far too long. The smile turned to tears that flowed freely
for the first time in ages.
“Thank
you.”
I didn’t
say it. I felt it. Somehow I was grateful for the opportunity to
pick up a tiny, green ninja toy.
What else
could I be grateful for, I wondered? If I can feel thankful for a chore I
despised just yesterday, what other drudgeries can I see in a new light?
Unsure
whether the rest of the day’s chores could be experienced similarly, I set out
to try. Could I be grateful to fold
laundry or make the bed? I decided to keep a little log that morning, to keep
myself focused on the impromptu gratitude experiment I was about to conduct.
First
chore: make the bed. “Can I find a way to be thankful while I make the bed?” I
found myself thankful for my nice, warm blanket, remembering those who have no
shelter, no bed, no blanket. Oh, how I love my blanket and my nice, soft
sheets. As I turned the comforter over,
I remembered it was a wedding gift. In
fact, the blanket and the sheets were wedding gifts too. People loved us enough to provide these
wonderful gifts that we’re still using six years later. These were gifts. We didn’t earn these items. They were given to us out of love. I felt grateful for the love of so many family
and friends. I’d be nowhere without the
people who have sustained me my whole life through.
Downstairs
to vacuum. “Let’s see how this goes.” Before I could start, I had to pick up
more toys. But this time I smiled as I
picked them up, remembering the breakthrough with the tiny, green ninja. When I had the floor clean enough to vacuum,
I plugged in the sweeper and pushed it back and forth across the carpet. I felt thankful for this vacuum cleaner. In a long line of rotten vacuum cleaners,
this one was the first good one I’ve ever owned. I thought about how my husband researched
vacuums (something I would never do). I had
been feeling irritated with him lately, but I felt my irritation toward him
shrinking as I remembered the many ways he makes my life better. Now, lest you
think me super zen-ful, I must confess that I caught
myself thinking about how much I hate the carpet in my family room. No doubt, it is time for replacement. But when those negative, hateful thoughts
arose, I somehow mustered enough mindfulness to tell myself, “No! We’re not
going there right now.” And you know
what? It actually worked! I could have a
dirt floor, I reminded myself, and suddenly I became thankful for that old
carpet.
My final
chore of the morning was to sweep and mop the kitchen. I thought to myself, “Let’s turn on the T.V.”
I don’t know why I did it, but in a flash my mindful
experiment with gratitude mostly ended.
I turned on the television to my favorite late-morning talk show, and
gratefulness was soon gone. I swept the
messy floor. I mopped the sticky
tile. Where were my thoughts? They were with Ellen and Sting,
simultaneously entertained by them and envious of them. Envious of her humor and
perfect skin. Jealous
of his muscle-tone and talent.
Gratitude was gone.
After the
task was done I sat down and said to myself, “Oops. What went wrong?” Realizing that I lost mindfulness the moment
I turned on the television, I thought, “Well, that exercise in gratitude is
gone. What do I have to feel thankful
for now that it’s done?” And I had to
laugh. I could feel thankful that it was
done. So I did.
They say
that people teach what they most need to learn. Guess why I’ve chosen a
thankfulness project for my doctoral thesis? I need to grow in gratitude. I’ve
experienced, if only for a moment, the transformative power of gratitude. I’ve
had first-hand experience with what I’ve read on countless pages of Holy
Scripture urging our thankfulness.
Like the
story about the ten lepers from the book of Luke. Lepers in that day and time were
ostracized, made to live on the margins of society, isolated from family, work,
and dignity. When the ten lepers approach Jesus, he doesn’t heal them on the
spot, but he sends them on a journey of healing—telling them to go and present
themselves to the priest. The priest held the power to deem them ritually clean
and to reinstate them into society. So these ten men did as Jesus prompted, and
as they journeyed, they were made clean. Healed of leprosy.
What a miracle! How long these men had been afflicted we’ll never know, but we
know they were healed after a brief encounter with Jesus Christ. You’d think
they would have all returned to thank him and express their profound gratitude,
right? Wrong. Only one man, the detested Samaritan, returned to express his
gratefulness to Jesus. One out of ten. Jesus noticed
that the other nine did not return with him. But to the one, he said, “Rise and
go; your faith has made you well.” Ten
lepers were cleansed, but only one was “made well.” Other translations say
that he was “saved,” but my favorite translation for this verse is from the
King James: “your faith has made thee whole.” Ten lepers were cleansed, but
only one was “saved.” Only one was “made whole.” Made whole
through gratitude.
Nine out
of ten lepers were healed, but missed the opportunity to find wholeness because
they failed to express their gratitude. Perhaps they felt thankful, we don’t
really know. But we know that they didn’t express their appreciation to Jesus.
Most of the time, I’m one of the nine. How about
you?
Over the
past few years, researchers have performed gratitude interventions in which
people journal grateful thoughts over a period of time. Compared with control
groups, people who keep gratitude journals are more likely to experience:
·
Psychological benefits, including being more
alert, energetic, and happier.
·
Physical benefits, including getting more
exercise, better sleep, and reduced blood pressure.
·
Social benefits, including feeling more
connected, exhibiting more prosocial behavior, and
feeling less isolated & lonely.
I guess Jesus
knew what he was talking about when he told that leper, “Your faith has made
you well.”
Now, I
want to play devil’s advocate for a moment. Why are we lauding this leper when
expressing gratitude was pretty easy since he had just been healed of leprosy?
What if he hadn’t been healed? Would he have been thankful then? Can’t we give
people who haven’t found healing a gratitude pass?
The short
answer is “no.” We don’t express gratitude because we’re happy; we’re happy
because we express gratitude. For those going through a difficult time, it’s
that much more important to focus on blessings in order not to lose sight of
goodness in the midst of trial.
A powerful
example of this is told by Corrie ten Boom, a
concentration camp survivor from World War II. In her book called The Hiding
Place, ten Boom tells of the horrors she and her sister, Betsie,
experienced while imprisoned at Ravensbruck. The ten
Boom family was a devout Dutch Christian family arrested by the Nazis for
hiding Jews. Stripped of everything, faced with the most inhumane treatment,
ten Boom and her sister grew in appreciation of their one treasure they
held—their Bible. It became a source of comfort to them in the camp, and they
read from it every chance they got.
One
morning at the camp they read a passage from 1 Thessalonians: “Give thanks in
all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” Later that
day, they were assigned a new barracks. A space designed for 400 now held 1,400
emaciated women. A bed, a square really, designed for four, now held nine.
Sewage overflowed; straw beds were rancid. And to top it all
off . . . fleas.
Corrie complained to Betsie
about their horrific accommodations, asking how in the world they could face
this situation. Betsie reminded Corrie
of the scripture they read earlier: “Give thanks in all circumstances, that’s
what we can do!” exclaimed Betsie. With Betsie’s prodding, Corrie begrudgingly
joined Betsie in thanking God for everything they
could think of in a prayer of thanksgiving. They thanked God for being
together, for having a Bible to read, and for the 1,400 women with whom they
could share Christ. When Betsie went on to thank God
for the fleas, it was too much for Corrie.
“Betsie, there’s no way even God can make me grateful for a
flea.” “Give thanks in all circumstances,” Betsie
reminded. “It doesn’t say, ‘in pleasant circumstances.’” Corrie
relented, and offered a not-quite-convinced prayer of thanksgiving for the fleas.
The ten Boom sisters began holding worship services in the
barracks, at first with great fear. Night after night they gathered for prayer
and scripture reading and testimony, and they noticed that no guard ever came
near. Everywhere else in the camp, they were under rigid surveillance, but not
in the barracks. Several weeks later they discovered why the guards never came
inside the barracks—why they were free to worship and pray and sing and share.
The guards would not enter the barracks because of—guess what—fleas. “Give
thanks in all circumstances.” Even fleas.
Today I’m inviting you to take up the practice of gratitude
journaling. I could have chosen 100 other projects, but I chose this project
because I believe in the power of gratitude. I chose this project because I
care about you, and I want you to experience the fullness of life God wants for
you. I don’t just hope for your healing, I pray for your wholeness.
For 40 days I invite you to take up the intentional, spiritual
discipline of gratitude journaling. If you participate, you’ll write down three
things every day for which you feel thankful. You can’t repeat items, so you’ll
have to come up with 120 things over the course of 40 days. That may seem
overwhelming, but once you start looking for
blessings, you discover they’re everywhere, all the time, in every
circumstance.
Take right now for instance. It wouldn’t take us long to think of
120 things we’re thankful for in this moment. Let’s start with three. I’m going
to give you a moment to think of three things you’re thankful for about this
very moment in time. Ready? Go!
We could go on and on, just about this one moment in time. Don’t
be so focused on where you’re going that you forget to turn around and give
thanks. If you want to join me in this potentially life-changing practice, see
me in the Narthex following the service. If you don’t want to participate in
the project, I hope you’ll challenge yourself to grow in gratitude. Don’t let
God’s redeeming work in your life stop with simply being cleansed. Be made
whole!
Ten lepers were cleansed, but only one was
“made well.” Be the one. Be the one made well—be the one made whole through
gratitude.