I tend to have a certain ambivalence toward the holiday known as Thanksgiving. This has nothing to do with the essence and meaning of the day, which is as close to the Gospel as any secular holiday can get: giving thanks for all the blessings we have received as individuals and as a nation, and, by extension, as Christians and as Church. For our nation was once a Christian nation, and the original intention of the holiday was to give thanks to God.
The ambivalence comes with the way the day is usually celebrated: with overeating, over-drinking, and various other excesses that really aren’t expressions of thanksgiving, but rather of self-indulgence, greed, and indifference toward those who have not received the superabundance of material goods that most people in this country enjoy.
St Paul has a good expression in the Epistle that is read on this day (1Tim. 6:6-11, 17-19), and perhaps this should guide both our understanding and our celebration of this feast. It is this: “godliness with contentment,” and in that, he says, there is great gain.
This section of Scripture deals with true versus false riches, and with the perils of pursuing material wealth. The famous saying, “the love of money is the root of all evils” comes from this passage. The Apostle does not here recommend destitution or even poverty as an ideal, for in fact he says we ought to find some contentment with what God provides. But he says that food and clothing should be sufficient for material contentment—and it is godliness, that is, the ordering of our lives according to the wisdom and righteousness of God, that enables us to be content in this life without the pursuit or possession of riches.
The secret of contentment comes not from having everything we could possibly desire of this world’s goods. It comes primarily from our relationship to God, who reveals to us the meaning of life, and hence what is important and what is not, what we ought to strive for and what we ought to be detached from. Once we learn the secret of contentment, it matters little how much or how little we actually possess. St Paul tells the Philippians: “I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content. I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want: I can do all things in Him who strengthens me” (4:11-13).
He takes this a step further when writing to the Corinthians, and this is in the context of spiritual experience and the trials sent to purify us and unite us to our crucified Lord. “For the sake of Christ,” he writes, “I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions and calamities” (2Cor. 12:10). That’s a far cry from the usual Thanksgiving contentment, which often consists in little more than a full stomach, a comfortable chair, and a wide-screen TV in front of you.
“For the sake of Christ” the Apostle was content. That is the key. No one in his right mind would prefer hardships and calamities to abundance and comfort—unless there were a higher purpose involved, a loftier goal than mere personal satisfaction. So, for the sake of Christ we are content with the basic necessities of life and do not seek our contentment in superfluous riches or the fulfillment of our every desire.
In the Gospel (Lk. 12:13-15, 22-32), Jesus too warns us about seeking the things that the unbelievers are always focused on. He tells us instead to seek the Kingdom of God, and everything else we need will be granted us as well. This is, in Paul’s terms, godliness with contentment. This is setting our priorities in favor of the will of God and then being content with what He decides we need. And God is not stingy with his providence, for St Paul goes on to say that He “richly furnishes us with everything to enjoy.”
Immediately, though, he writes that those who are richly furnished with everything to enjoy ought to be rich in good deeds and generous to others, for in this way they prepare well for the true and eternal life that is to come (as is made clear in Jesus’ description of the Last Judgment; see Mt 25:31-46).
Despite the fact that we live better than about 80-90% of the world, there’s a certain spiritual disease that tends to afflict many of us, one that this feast of Thanksgiving ought to bring to light. I call it “woe-is-me-itis.” The main symptom is the focusing on one’s own relatively small problems while not realizing—or refusing to take into consideration—how much so many others suffer while we live in relative peace and prosperity.
Many millions of people in this world live in abject poverty, without adequate food, clean water, shelter, or medical care. Because of this, many suffer from serious and painful diseases. Others suffer extreme hardships from wars, persecutions, natural disasters and other severe trials. We suffer practically none of this, but we still manage to go around with the “woe is me” attitude that magnifies our pet peeves or personal issues with others, or minor sufferings or trials or inconveniences. The best medicine for the healing of “woe-is-me-itis,” short of a crisp slap in the face, is the spirit of gratitude, and this is what we are called to develop on the occasion of this Thanksgiving Day.
It doesn’t take much effort to notice the things we have that millions of people don’t have. We can flip a switch and lights come on, as well as the numerous appliances we take for granted. We can open the faucet and clean water comes out, which is a luxury for many in the world. We have full pantries, we have beds and books, cars and clothing, and various means to enhance communication and culture. We also have all the means of salvation, Scripture and Sacrament, and all the other ways that God brings truth and goodness and beauty into our lives.
After having given us privileged people so much more than He has given others, God will certainly not take kindly to our grumbling and complaining and being unhappy over the difficulties and pains and annoyances we inevitably have to face in this life. We seem easily and often to forget that we are called and required to take up our crosses and lay down our lives for the sake of Christ and the salvation of souls.
So we have a day of Thanksgiving to reopen our eyes and our hearts. Gratitude is the best antidote to self-pity, to the blindness caused by self-absorption, to the false notion that we are entitled to everything we have while rarely doing anything to help those who are in chronically desperate straits. In short, gratitude is the cure for “woe-is-me-itis.”
I was wondering what was at the root of the maladies indicated by today’s readings. The Apostle says love of money is the root of evil, but I still want to ask: why do so many people have this love of money or of the things money buys, so that they become self-centered, indifferent to others’ urgent needs, becoming bitter or depressed when things don’t go their way?
Do people love money simply because they love pleasure and comfort? That is probably part of it. But I think there may be something more primal at the root of it, perhaps the most primal emotion there is: fear. Fear in this case is manifested as insecurity, a fear that we will not have enough, that we will not obtain happiness, that we will suffer hardship, that someone else will try to take what is ours. This insecurity excludes gratitude, because it is always seeking more. “Godliness with contentment” is then out of the question. This fear also closes us off to the needs of others, and makes us selfish and even angry that another might solicit help from us in their dire need.
This is why Jesus says at the end of the Gospel: “Fear not, little flock, it has pleased your Father to give you the Kingdom.” We forget that we have a loving Father in Heaven who knows our needs and will generously provide if we do not selfishly cling to what we have because of our fears and insecurities.
I’m reading George Weigel’s latest book on the life of the Venerable Pope John Paul II. The Pope’s first words to the world upon his election were, “Be not afraid!” This was not a mere bromide for a neurotic generation. He was making a profound statement here, one that the author made very clear. Our not being afraid is not related to a lack of fearful things in this world; it is related to our faith and trust in Christ who has overcome the world. The author noted that it is not only our sins that Christ bore in Himself on the Cross—He also bore our fears, and that is why the Pope could confidently exhort us to be not afraid. That is why we can afford to be generous, self-sacrificing, courageous, and also content with whatever God sends or permits in this life. This deserves considerable reflection, and it should be yet another reason for our gratitude on this day.
So as we celebrate this Thanksgiving Day, let us take the medicine of gratitude for the cure of our “woe-is-me-itis.” Let us learn godliness with contentment, discovering in Christ the secret for living contentedly in any situation, in the face of any difficulties, be they interior or exterior ones. Let us realize the extent to which God has lavished both material and spiritual blessings upon us, and let us begin to live in greater joy and peace and selfless service because of it. There should be no place among the children of God for the insecurities, the disordered desires, the selfishness and suspicions, and the pursuit of superfluous things that characterize the lives of unbelievers. It has pleased our Father to give us the Kingdom. If we seek this first, He will see to it that we have everything else we need to do his will and be generous to others in this world, while we store up treasures in Heaven, where we will enjoy eternal contentment in God and in the family of his holy ones.
