Between Our Steps: Thanks-Giving
What if gratitude wasn’t a checklist, but a way of living? From ancient stories to Indigenous wisdom, Cathy Hird challenges us to hear the call to turn thanks into meaningful action.
COMMUNITY CONTRIBUTION
The October signs that said “Give Thanks” sent me into rant mode. It felt like an invitation to make a checklist of what we have, a list of what we possess that others don’t.
“I am thankful to live in a peaceful country, given what is going on in the world.” This sets us apart from those suffering turmoil.
“I am thankful for family,” even as we think of folks whose family is a shambles.
“I am thankful for the abundance of good food.” Given the affordability crisis, it is almost shameful to have a full larder.
There’s a story from the life of Jesus where ten people with leprosy call out to him for healing. He tells them to show themselves to the priests—who were the ones to declare a person “clean” and able to rejoin society.
As they went, they realized they’d been healed. Nine kept going. One—the outsider—turned back to thank Jesus.
Jesus noted that all ten were healed, but only one returned in gratitude. That act of returning became part of his healing, too.
The week this story came up, I was preaching on Thanksgiving Sunday at a small congregation that had done a food drive. I told the story, and then a child brought a wagon-load of donated food to the front of the church. Thanks led them to give.
If being thankful for our loaded pantry leads us to donate to local food programs, that’s “thanks giving”. It shifts giving thanks away from an inventory of what we have to a push to do something with it.
If giving thanks for family leads us to take a person who lives alone on an outing, that makes our thankfulness a lens that helps us see what others need and what we can offer.
I can deal with a thanks-giving that leads us to do something in the world in response to our gifts. But I admit, this works well for me because of that protestant work ethic—always be doing.
There is another attitude, an attitude of gratitude, that changes the way we are in the world. Indigenous elders have guided me on this path. And one whose writings have reminded me of it is Robin Wall Kimmerer (Braiding Sweet Grass and The Serviceberry).
For her, gratitude is a way of being in the world that helps us honour the community of creatures we live with. When we see the bounty of nature as a gift, not something we are owed, we experience gratitude. Kimmerer shows us how gratitude transforms our relationship with the ecosystem around us.
Part of the story in The Serviceberry involves a market gardener who invites people to come on a specific evening to pick serviceberries for free. Kimmer is astonished by the bounty. She reflects on the birds that will share the bounty. Near the end of the book, she reports a conversation with the owner about the reasons she made the invitation.
The owner says that people don’t know serviceberries well, so this was a way to get the word out about how good they are. And if people have a good experience of her farm, they’ll come back for their apples and their pumpkins. This highlights a theme of Braiding Sweet Grass: relationship involves reciprocity.
Gratitude prompts a different relationship with the world: you won’t take the first morel in case it’s the only one; you won’t take the last so that there will be more. I think this is even more powerful than my idea of thanks giving.
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