“The Giver and the Gift”
“The Giver and the Gift”
Luke 17.11-19
Luke 17.11-19
In the name of the Living God and the Christ who is coming soon. Amen.
Thanksgiving is a particularly American holiday. Of course, many other nations have their Harvest Festivals observed in the autumn, but few reach the mythic cultural heights of the American Thanksgiving.
This is partially due to the mythic origins of the feast itself. Like our own family histories, we grab onto memories, moments that help us interpret ourselves, even if the actual events may not have been exactly as we remember them. In the case of the so-called “First Thanksgiving” of the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1621, there is more than a kernel of truth to it: they were religious pilgrims; they had suffered much; they did rejoice in God’s providential care of them; they did have a three-day feast; and they did eventually make a tenuous peace with the native peoples that lasted half a century. We can readily acknowledge the shortfalls of our collective memory of the story, while also holding on to the ideal. So, it wasn’t technically the first, as other Europeans in North America had similar thanksgiving festivals. Who knows if they actually had turkey? And certainly that peace was, sadly and tragically, not to last with the expansion of European settlers westward. But it was a moment that we can hold onto and perhaps strive for as a nation—abundance shared, thanksgiving to God, peace among peoples.
You might have some mythic memories of your own family thanksgivings: big tables, big meals, big piles of dishes, big naps watching football, big shopping sprees early the next morning, big hugs with friends or family you didn’t get to see very often… and maybe now will never see again, this side of heaven. And truth be told, the reality of your own personal family history, like many people’s, could break through and smash the myth to pieces. We know that not all families are harmonious; not all have abundance; not all give thanks as they should; or love as they should.
This is why this morning we gather in God’s house, to give thanks with the body of Christ. There are things we give thanks for today, which cannot be smashed, disassembled, shaken, or taken from us. The reason is that this morning, in this place, we recognize not just the gift, but the giver. We don’t just give thanks but give thanks to God.
Take the Old Testament lesson for this morning from Deuteronomy 8. The children of Israel are about to cross over the Jordan to take possession of the abundance of the promise land. And here, through Moses the prophet, the Lord admonishes them to not forget the Lord, and that it was He who would give them these many blessings. The Lord knows them (and us!) so well, that even before they possess the gift, he reminds them of the giver: “Do not say to yourself, ‘My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this wealth.’ But remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you… [all this] (Dt. 8:17-18).
In 2 Corinthians 9, today’s Epistle, St. Paul makes it clear that the Corinthians’ aid to the poverty-stricken believers in Jerusalem is, in spiritual reality, a gift from God. The Lord is at work through the Corinthian’s generosity, which is why all over the Roman world Christians are thanking God for His indescribable gift.
And in today’s gospel (Luke 17.11-19), note well that all ten lepers are equally healed, all ten received the same gift but only one truly recognized the giver. The Samaritan alone returns praising God and throws himself before the feet of the savior in thanksgiving.
That’s why you’re here this morning, isn’t it? You recognize not just the blessing but the Blesser, not just the healing but the Healer, not just the gift but the Giver. And perhaps at least in heart if not literally in body you can take a moment this morning and prostrate yourself before the Lord of all things who gives all things.
And what an abundance the Lord has given, indeed! The hymn we’re about to sing, “You Saints of God, Glad Voices Raise”, summarizes it well. This is a hymn text born of this very congregation: commissioned from here, written from here, first sung here. Stanza one calls us to raise our voices to God for the material blessings he gives: “health and home and peaceful days, for every joy of living.” Stanza two recognizes the less tangible earthly gifts of knowledge, truth, beauty, and creativity. Stanza three reminds us that people are a gift from God—those who will gather at table with us today, those at tables across this blessed land, and those at the heavenly table who join us at the altar in a few minutes. Finally, most importantly, stanza four calls us to lift up our hearts for the gift of salvation—for the abundant mercy that God has given us in Christ Jesus, whose cross sets us free to be his new creation.
In all this, this morning, we bow before the one True God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and lay ourselves before the Lord of heaven and earth, from whom all blessings flow. No matter what comes in life—in times of want or plenty, in times of sadness or joy, in times of war or peace, in times of great strife or great celebration—we bow before the Lord in total trust, total obedience, and total praise.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.