Thanks
Sermon
Sermons On The Second Readings
For Sundays In Advent, Christmas, And Epiphany
A minister held an administrative position in a major university in a large city. Part of his responsibility was overseeing the program for minority students in that school. The counselor for minority students and the faculty members teaching and working with minority students were under his supervision. The program had not been well run, so prior to his arrival the school had terminated the entire staff. He had to employ a new part-time director for the program. Everyone from the president to the students told the minister that one of the most powerful and capable persons in the city was a black pastor who was serving his forty-third year as pastor of the same parish. This person called "Mac" was 73 years old at the time.
The administrator had some misgivings as to how effective a 73-year-old could be in working primarily with people almost fifty years younger than he was. He hired him anyway. The man was a perfect fit in the job. He was warm, gentle, caring, and experienced. The number of minority students in the school tripled within four years. Much of the increase was due to the presence of the silver-haired "Mac." "Mac" called everyone his "boy" or his "girl" and treated them like they were his own children.
Every Wednesday, Mac taught a course on the black church experience. But it enrolled almost as many non-black students and other minorities as blacks. After the end of that Wednesday class, Mac and the administrator always had lunch together at a small table in one of the University dining rooms. They did this every Wednesday, without fail, for five years. Mac never changed his routine.
He would order two tuna fish sandwiches. He would slowly devour one, as if it were a gift from God. Mac would relish every single bite. Then, when they had finished their meal and conversation, Mac would reach into his coat pocket. He would whip out a plastic sandwich bag and drop the other sandwich in it. With great care he would smooth out the wrinkles and eliminate the air from the bag. Then he would be off to catch a subway home.
On a visit to Mac's home one day, the administrator learned that Mac's wife was an invalid. She had been confined to a wheelchair for many years. Mac, of course, brought her a tuna fish sandwich for lunch every Wednesday.
But one thing began to puzzle him. Mac's wife would go into the hospital for treatments. Sometimes she would fly south in winter months and spend a whole month with a relative. The warmer climate was necessary for her health. Yet Mac never varied his routine. Always he took home the second sandwich. Finally, the administrator said, "Mac, what gives? Your wife's not home. Why do you take the second sandwich? What do you do with it?"
Mac replied: "Oh, I've got to get my second sandwich. You see, son, every Wednesday I've been getting a second sandwich. When I get one, I thank God I've had a woman who loves me. When I get one, it reminds me of the children and the breath of life God gave us. That sandwich calls out of my being a sense of gratitude and thanks to God that I'd hate to lose. In this hard, sometimes cruel, old world it would be easy to let that part of me die for awhile until she gets back. I'm afraid other urges would take over and I'd never get that part of me back. I've got to get that sandwich. Can't lose what it says to me. If my wife's out of town, I throw it away at the end of the day. Then I get another one the next Wednesday. Because she isn't there, I have to work harder at remembering."
Mac's right. It is a principle of life that we eventually lose those of our powers we do not use. More than we realize our lives are made up of hundreds of emotions and urges that we have developed or lost through the years. God and other people don't need our gratitude as much as we need to be the sort of people who know how to be grateful. When we read Paul's instructions to Timothy, we find this principle at work. Paul urges us Christians as we worship that Thanksgiving be made for everyone -- for kings and all those in authority -- that we may live peaceful lives. It's not that these other people will notice or even have their lives affected but that we will have peaceful lives. It's not even that these others will become good people but that we will become good people.
You and I are composed of various urges and emotions. Sometimes these urges express themselves in very direct ways -- eating, making love, studying, playing sports, finishing a difficult project, fighting, singing, complaining. We are always summoning these urges, which we cannot even name, up into our lives from our minds and souls. Within each of our lives there is the urge to destroy. There is a dark, demonic side of life and it fights to control us. It can destroy our relationships; it can destroy our body; it can destroy our happiness.
The original Greek has Jesus telling a rich young man, who has lost his ability to be thankful and be generous to others, these words: "Fool, this very night they will demand your life." Who are they? They are these urges. They will destroy us. The things in our life -- the money, the status, and the arrogance -- they will destroy us.
The yearly season of Thanksgiving is upon us. Most of us have come home to joyous occasions. Some of us have returned, perhaps, to an environment that is sad and lonely for a number of reasons. But all of us are given the gift of salvation. And all of us have facets of our personality that radiate gratitude and love. We must draw on those positive urges in our being. We give thanks in order that we may live a peaceful life.
Rudyard Kipling was one of the popular writers of his time. Someone reported that Kipling received an average of ten shillings for every word he wrote. Well, you know how college students can be. They like to test everything and everyone. Consequently, some Oxford University students decided to put Kipling to the test. They sent Kipling a copy of the report and ten shillings with the request, "Send us one of your very best words." Kipling wrote back: "Thanks!"
"Thanks" is, indeed, one of everyone's best words. It can render as much service as any word we use. In fact, if we all gave thanks for the bounty we have, instead of worrying about wanting more, we might appreciate life itself a great deal more. A widely circulated true story hammers the point home for us. One day a financially wealthy father took his son on a trip to the country. The purpose of the trip was to show the boy how poor people live. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family. On their return to their affluent neighborhood, the father asked his son, "How did you like the trip?"
"It was great, Dad," the boy replied.
"Did you see how poor people live?" the father asked.
The son answered, "Oh, yeah."
Very pleased, the father inquired, "So what did you learn about poor people on the trip?"
The son answered, "I saw that we have one dog and they have four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden. They have a creek that has no end.
"We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have all these stars in the sky in their garden at night.
"Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have a vista that looks out over the whole horizon.
"We have a small piece of land to live on, and they have fields that go almost beyond our sight.
"We have many servants who serve us, but they get to serve everybody that they know.
"We buy our food off shelves in a store, but they grow theirs. We have walls around our property to protect us, but they have friends to protect them."
With this the boy's father was speechless. Then his son added, "Thanks, Dad, for showing me how poor we are."
Life is a matter of perspective. Imagine our lives without the perspective of the Holy Bible. Thanks, Heavenly Parent, for showing us at times how poor we are despite our trinkets and toys. Thanks.
The administrator had some misgivings as to how effective a 73-year-old could be in working primarily with people almost fifty years younger than he was. He hired him anyway. The man was a perfect fit in the job. He was warm, gentle, caring, and experienced. The number of minority students in the school tripled within four years. Much of the increase was due to the presence of the silver-haired "Mac." "Mac" called everyone his "boy" or his "girl" and treated them like they were his own children.
Every Wednesday, Mac taught a course on the black church experience. But it enrolled almost as many non-black students and other minorities as blacks. After the end of that Wednesday class, Mac and the administrator always had lunch together at a small table in one of the University dining rooms. They did this every Wednesday, without fail, for five years. Mac never changed his routine.
He would order two tuna fish sandwiches. He would slowly devour one, as if it were a gift from God. Mac would relish every single bite. Then, when they had finished their meal and conversation, Mac would reach into his coat pocket. He would whip out a plastic sandwich bag and drop the other sandwich in it. With great care he would smooth out the wrinkles and eliminate the air from the bag. Then he would be off to catch a subway home.
On a visit to Mac's home one day, the administrator learned that Mac's wife was an invalid. She had been confined to a wheelchair for many years. Mac, of course, brought her a tuna fish sandwich for lunch every Wednesday.
But one thing began to puzzle him. Mac's wife would go into the hospital for treatments. Sometimes she would fly south in winter months and spend a whole month with a relative. The warmer climate was necessary for her health. Yet Mac never varied his routine. Always he took home the second sandwich. Finally, the administrator said, "Mac, what gives? Your wife's not home. Why do you take the second sandwich? What do you do with it?"
Mac replied: "Oh, I've got to get my second sandwich. You see, son, every Wednesday I've been getting a second sandwich. When I get one, I thank God I've had a woman who loves me. When I get one, it reminds me of the children and the breath of life God gave us. That sandwich calls out of my being a sense of gratitude and thanks to God that I'd hate to lose. In this hard, sometimes cruel, old world it would be easy to let that part of me die for awhile until she gets back. I'm afraid other urges would take over and I'd never get that part of me back. I've got to get that sandwich. Can't lose what it says to me. If my wife's out of town, I throw it away at the end of the day. Then I get another one the next Wednesday. Because she isn't there, I have to work harder at remembering."
Mac's right. It is a principle of life that we eventually lose those of our powers we do not use. More than we realize our lives are made up of hundreds of emotions and urges that we have developed or lost through the years. God and other people don't need our gratitude as much as we need to be the sort of people who know how to be grateful. When we read Paul's instructions to Timothy, we find this principle at work. Paul urges us Christians as we worship that Thanksgiving be made for everyone -- for kings and all those in authority -- that we may live peaceful lives. It's not that these other people will notice or even have their lives affected but that we will have peaceful lives. It's not even that these others will become good people but that we will become good people.
You and I are composed of various urges and emotions. Sometimes these urges express themselves in very direct ways -- eating, making love, studying, playing sports, finishing a difficult project, fighting, singing, complaining. We are always summoning these urges, which we cannot even name, up into our lives from our minds and souls. Within each of our lives there is the urge to destroy. There is a dark, demonic side of life and it fights to control us. It can destroy our relationships; it can destroy our body; it can destroy our happiness.
The original Greek has Jesus telling a rich young man, who has lost his ability to be thankful and be generous to others, these words: "Fool, this very night they will demand your life." Who are they? They are these urges. They will destroy us. The things in our life -- the money, the status, and the arrogance -- they will destroy us.
The yearly season of Thanksgiving is upon us. Most of us have come home to joyous occasions. Some of us have returned, perhaps, to an environment that is sad and lonely for a number of reasons. But all of us are given the gift of salvation. And all of us have facets of our personality that radiate gratitude and love. We must draw on those positive urges in our being. We give thanks in order that we may live a peaceful life.
Rudyard Kipling was one of the popular writers of his time. Someone reported that Kipling received an average of ten shillings for every word he wrote. Well, you know how college students can be. They like to test everything and everyone. Consequently, some Oxford University students decided to put Kipling to the test. They sent Kipling a copy of the report and ten shillings with the request, "Send us one of your very best words." Kipling wrote back: "Thanks!"
"Thanks" is, indeed, one of everyone's best words. It can render as much service as any word we use. In fact, if we all gave thanks for the bounty we have, instead of worrying about wanting more, we might appreciate life itself a great deal more. A widely circulated true story hammers the point home for us. One day a financially wealthy father took his son on a trip to the country. The purpose of the trip was to show the boy how poor people live. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family. On their return to their affluent neighborhood, the father asked his son, "How did you like the trip?"
"It was great, Dad," the boy replied.
"Did you see how poor people live?" the father asked.
The son answered, "Oh, yeah."
Very pleased, the father inquired, "So what did you learn about poor people on the trip?"
The son answered, "I saw that we have one dog and they have four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden. They have a creek that has no end.
"We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have all these stars in the sky in their garden at night.
"Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have a vista that looks out over the whole horizon.
"We have a small piece of land to live on, and they have fields that go almost beyond our sight.
"We have many servants who serve us, but they get to serve everybody that they know.
"We buy our food off shelves in a store, but they grow theirs. We have walls around our property to protect us, but they have friends to protect them."
With this the boy's father was speechless. Then his son added, "Thanks, Dad, for showing me how poor we are."
Life is a matter of perspective. Imagine our lives without the perspective of the Holy Bible. Thanks, Heavenly Parent, for showing us at times how poor we are despite our trinkets and toys. Thanks.
