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Several times in the past few days I’ve heard Thanksgiving referred to as the most American of all our feastdays. When I think of the many problems we have in this country, the partisan politics which deprive the poor and oppressed of justice, our propensity for war, our lack of welcome for those coming to our country, I must admit, that comment gives me consolation. If we are, as Americans, still able to give thanks to a loving and caring God, that says something deeply right, radically humble, in our character. Our leprosy—and we’re all the lepers we hear about in today’s Gospel—does not turn Jesus away from us. It calls forth his compassion and his power of healing. Today we celebrate both of these realities. Jesus shares our suffering and he makes us well. Today, also, like the thankful leper, we fall at his feet and thank him for that.
Thomas Merton tells us that gratitude takes nothing for granted, is never unresponsive, is constantly awakening to new wonder and to praise of the goodness of God. It’s a call to action, therefore. It’s something much more than basking in the care of God. The grateful leper wasn’t allowed to stay kneeling before Jesus, but was urged to stand up and go. Gratitude is more than a private reflection; it’s the energy to carry the Good News of God’s power and life to others. This we need to do in so many ways, some large and some small. The grateful leper’s faith saved him, Jesus tells us, and our faith does the same for us and for those we encourage by that faith to a gratitude of their own.
As I was considering this idea of Merton’s about reflective gratitude and the call to carry the message of it beyond ourselves, it was our chapel mural of Jesus that came to my mind. I’ve always loved this mural. In fact, I think my vocation to this community is very much tied up with the Jesus as he is represented here. From the time I was a freshman in high school I’ve found myself compelled by this Jesus in various ways. First of all, there are his arms open in a combination of strength and embracing. Jesus gives us his power; that very same power by which God raised him from the dead, says St. Paul. For this we are grateful. Jesus gives us his love, which is everlasting; no matter what has gone on with us from day to day and year to year, he welcomes us with compassion and care. And for this we are grateful. Most of all, there are his eyes. These eyes are of the one who sees deep within, who cuts to the heart of our longing, a longing that even we can’t fully know nor certainly understand. The truth of that gaze demands truth from us in response. He sees us as we are and it’s impossible to run far from seeing what he sees: our leprosy, if you will, but also his desire and ability to cure it. But we are not cured merely for ourselves. We are missioned beyond our comfort and our safety and our security to others; there is a challenge in those eyes.
When we reflect on the person of Jesus in today’s Gospel and in our chapel mural we see him as always asking for and expecting a response. David Steindl-Rast says that our thank you can be summed up in a prayer of one word: Yes! Yes to acceptance of his loving healing. Yes to his call to heal others. Brother David tells us that in saying this “yes,” we become what we are. Our true self is “yes,” to who we were meant to be, just as Jesus’ True Self is also “Yes” to his role in the creative plan of God. St. Paul calls Jesus Christ the Great Yes. When I look at this mural, it says to me that all I need to do in life is to say this “yes” with all that it may ask of me each day. T.S. Eliot says of this “Yes” that it’s a condition of complete simplicity, costing not less than everything. The Buddhists have a saying that is similar to this “Yes.” It’s “This is it.” This (what is going on now) is it (all of reality we can know at this moment.) Apt though it may be, I prefer the personal response, the “yes” given to someone, to that Jesus who is our Life.
And so in the abundance of this day’s gifts of joy and food and sorrow and drink and companionship and loneliness and energy and pain we thank God for who we are, who we are called to be, as individuals and communities and nations and a planet and beyond as part of all creation. “Yes!”
Brother David says that now and then comes a day when we get carried away like kites in a great wind and on those occasions our “yes” becomes an unconditional one. At that moment we realize that “yes” is the answer to every “why?” and suddenly everything makes sense. Perhaps today can be one of those days. And so we pray our thanksgiving prayer: “Yes” O God of abundance. “Yes” to the living and dying that’s on the plate you set before us. “Yes” to the fullness of this harvest season and those ways we try to bring that fullness to those who know so much deprivation. “Yes” to the friends we gather with and to those we miss because they are no longer among us. “Yes” to all of your gifts, whatever they may be. And in this “yes” to your will is our peace.