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For sixty years I have been forgetful,
Every minute,
But not for a second
Has this flowing toward me stopped or
slowed.
I deserve nothing.
Today I recognize that I am the guest
The mystics talk about.
I play this living music for my host.
Everything today is for the host.
-Jelaluddin Rumi
The great Islamic mystic, Jelaluddin Rumi,
penned these words over seven hundred years ago. Rumi had an intensely
sensual appreciation for Allah. He spent his life teaching and writing,
growing always closer to his host, the beloved Allah. How strange for Rumi
of all people to write, "For sixty years I have been forgetful." And yet,
how human to never be able to fully embrace or repay all the gifts in our
lives. After sixty years Rumi looks back and discovers that he is a guest at
the table of life, and "not for a second has this flowing toward me stopped
or slowed." This is gratitude.
Gratitude is an appreciation for the good
things in our life. We can be grateful to people, to God, to circumstances,
to life itself. Gratitude is also humility and vulnerability. Gratitude
acknowledges a debt to someone or something, a debt that can never be fully
repaid, only passed on. Gratitude is also a way of life.
Theologian Gilbert Meilaender writes,
"Gratitude is finally not a duty to be discharged but an attitude which must
pervade and shape the whole of life."2 I agree with everything in
this statement except the use of the word "must." Like hope, gratitude is a
cultivated choice. We choose to be grateful. We choose to be humble and
vulnerable. We choose to share gratitude with others.
In my attempts to be more grateful I have
taken up a simple spiritual practice I read about this fall. My colleague
Emily Gage tells of a man who, as part of a daily practice, sits and names
ten things he is grateful for in his life. He says he has never run out of
ideas. I was so taken with this practice that I have begun to do it myself.
I especially like doing it at night. No matter how good or bad the day, and
frankly, especially on bad days, I name five things that I am grateful for.
This practice is having its affect on me. I’m finding gratitude everywhere.
Life continually pours out reasons for
gratitude, family and friends, health and prosperity, sunshine, snowfall,
clean sheets, warm homes. However, life is not all good or all happy. Life
pours out sorrow and hardship as well, and circumstances can be extremely
uneven. Yet, everyone has something good, something they value, some reason
for gratitude, no matter how difficult their life or circumstances.
In one of his sermons, Martin Luther King
Jr. tells the story of an older woman, who, during the Montgomery bus
boycott walked four slow, painful miles to work every day. When a passerby
asked her if she was tired she responded,
Yes, friend, my feet is real tired, but my
soul is rested."3 This is gratitude. In every life there are good
things that come to us, and each of us has the choice to honor what is good
with gratitude.
Yet for sixty years, twenty years, forty,
however long we have been alive, we have been forgetful. We’re not sure we
want to be grateful as a way of life. It is easier, less vulnerable, to be
continually put upon or put out. Fulfilling no, but easier and less
vulnerable, yes. Gratitude requires humility, and interdependence, seeing
oneself as a small part of a larger whole. Challenging qualities for a
culture rooted in self-reliance and independence. Challenging qualities for
people who prefer to be in control.
Gilbert Meilaender writes
Some gifts can never be repaid;
perhaps none can be. This suggests something important about our
relation not just to God but also to each other. Our common life
together cannot fail to be somewhat harsh and alienating if we think of
it simply in terms of obligat-ions, justice, and rights . . . If today
our common life in society is, as many observers seem to think, a life
lacking shared purpose and commitment . . . perhaps at least a part of
the problem is this: We have under-stood that common life largely in
terms of rights and entitlements, in terms of the language of
obligation, and not in terms of a virtue like gratitude.4
It’s important to put Meileander’s words
in perspective here. He does not advocate for the abolition of obligation,
justice, and rights. Rather, he claims that obligation, justice, and rights
must also make way for gratitude so that life does not just become a series
of duties, one payback for another. As he notes, "Some gifts can never be
repaid; perhaps none can be."
This is a revolutionary idea. There is no
fair market value on gratitude, no easy debt restructuring system. No tit
for tat. No eye for an eye. Gratitude is a different economy of scale, one
of relationships and community, one of intangible feelings generosity and
compassion. Gratitude enriches lives through more than money or property. It
enriches lives through connection and freedom, for a gift freely given
brings freedom and connection to others.
One of the most powerful gratitude lessons
I learned, happened while I was a ministerial intern in Concord,
Massachusetts. That year I worked full time, from September to June, as a
ministerial intern. In return, the church paid me a small stipend, and there
was some confusion as to my tax status. While I didn’t understand the finer
points of the tax status debate, what I did understand was that I could
barely make my way for a year on the stipend, and that I did not have extra
money to pay self-employment taxes.
One of the members of my intern committee
that year was a woman named Marie. As tax season grew closer, and
the debate on my tax status continued
within the intern committee, I received a Christmas card from Marie and her
husband, Tom. Inside the card was a check for $800, the amount needed to
cover my taxes. I knew that Marie and Tom would have thought this over very
carefully and I was overwhelmed by the fact that I knew two such generous
people. Who gives $800 to someone they have known for only four months,
someone who will be leaving their community within the next year?
The next day I went to my supervisor,
Gary, and asked, "What do I do?" Without blinking he replied, "Say thank
you, Sharon." I stared at him. It really hadn’t occurred to me that I could
or should keep this gift. It was too much. How could I ever repay them? I
was certain it was not professional or appropriate.
At first I wanted to pay the money back
dollar for dollar, to repay my debt, my obligation, my duty. I was looking
for debt restructuring, not a human economy of scale. It was also Gary who
explained to me that he was certain that Marie and Tom really wanted to give
me this gift and that it would be rude to return an intangible gift of love
and generosity. I wanted to be self reliant, and independent, not humble and
vulnerable. And part of me didn’t want to believe that such generosity
existed, or that I could feel such gratitude toward people I barely knew.
When I called Marie to talk about her gift
she simply said this, "When Tom and I were just starting out someone gave us
money to get started. We are just passing this gift on to you. When you are
able, do the same." And just as simply, this is how Marie and Tom gave me
freedom and taught me about the human touch of gratitude. Now Peter and I
are the
keepers of this trust, started over twenty
years ago, by someone I never met. And someday we will pass it on to someone
we barely know.
Financially, Marie and Tom helped me
through a rocky time, for which I am grateful. But even more than that they
taught me to have faith in the generosity of the human spirit, for which I
am eternally grateful. Clearly this is not an eye for an eye proposition. I
can only repay gratitude by naming it and passing it on.
In Works of Love Soren Kierkegaard
writes, "He stands alone – by another’s help. But his help is
hidden."5 How many hidden people have helped us get where we are
today?
In my role as pastoral caretake,r I am
privileged to hear your life stories. These stories are filled with both
tragedy and comedy; people who were remarkably cruel, and others who were
remarkably kind. Cruelty can bring us to tears, but so can kindness; the
stranger who gives shelter, the neighbor who watches for the school bus
every day to make sure all the children get safely home, the medical team
who saves premature infants, the emergency team who extracts the injured
from car accidents with the jaws of life. Through their generosity and
kindness these people call us to be grateful, and when the time comes, for
us to share the same with another.
For sixty years I have been forgetful,
Every minute,
But not for a second
Has this flowing toward me stopped or
slowed.
I deserve nothing.
____________________
1 Frederic
and Mary Ann Brussant, Spiritual Literacy: Reading the Sacred in Everyday
Life (1996), p. 184.
2
Gilbert C. Meilaender, The Theory and
Practice of Virtue (1984), p. 167.
3 James M. Washington editor,
"The Time for Freedom Has Come (1961)" in I Have a Dream: Writings and
Speeches that Changed the World, Martin Luther King, Jr. (1992), pp. 74
– 75.
4
Virtue, pp. 164 – 165.
5 Soren Kierkegaard, Works
of Love (1964), pp. 256f. |