Reflection on Thanksgiving Day

It’s pretty easy to feel good with today’s Old Testament readings. Gone are the wars and bloody battles where God has a favored side. There’s no strife or conflict. No plagues or wandering in the desert. The readings are upbeat and positive. Sirach praises God who fosters each of our growth from our mothers’ wombs and prays that God may grant us joy in our hearts and peace among all people.

Paul praises and thanks God for the grace lavished on us all to provision our lives and give direction, energy and conviction to our commitment to the Gospel. 

These affirming prayers may warm our hearts with their promise of goodness in our days and remind us that God is always faithful to God’s promises. But they stand in bleak and stark contrast to the lived reality of billions of people worldwide.  And to the “what’s coming next” anxiety that battles for a place in our own hearts.

Then, in the Gospel today, we hear the story of Jesus’ encounter with the 10 lepers — and another theme emerges. Relegated to standing off at a distance — isolated from human communion – they cry out to Jesus for mercy.  He responds by telling them to go and show themselves to the priests.  It’s only on the way that they are healed.  It’s a two-fold healing.  There is the physical healing for each of the 10 but also a healing of the rift in the community as the lepers are returned to community — no longer kept at a distance.  

But — only one of the 10, recognizing that he has been healed — returns to thank Jesus for the gift he has received. He returns as soon as he realizes he has been healed — he claims his healing even before it is validated by the priests. Rather than remaining at a distance, he now approaches Jesus and falls at his feet.  And he is a Samaritan. Interesting.

By way of reflecting on this Gospel on Thanksgiving day.  I’ve brought along a Thanksgiving gift. And it’s not the turkey.

Father Larry Freeman, who was incredibly creative, once shared this same gift with a group of disabled kids — mentally retarded kids who had themselves often been among our society’s lepers. It didn’t take long at all for the kids to get it.  Let’s see how we do. (Sister Sue then shares the gift.)

It’s often easy enough to express gratitude for all we have received.  But thanks alone is never enough.  It’s not enough to make America great again and close the borders. It’s not enough to say thanks and abuse power.  It’s not enough to partake of a gift while the poor starve.  Thanks only becomes enough if the gifts of life are shared.

At every Eucharistic liturgy we remember — make present in this day – what Jesus said and did.  He gave thanks for the most life-giving gift – bread. He blessed it, broke it and then immediately gave it, shared it with all at the table — more than just the 12.  The gift, received and given, grew.  Expanded over and over as those at the table shared that gift over and over.

Pope Benedict, during a Eucharistic Year celebration, told his audience that the Eucharist needed to be both valid and licit, but then, he said most importantly, unless it was lived for the poor it would not be truthful. We make the Eucharist truthful in living for the poor, the homeless, the elderly needing care, the outcast, refugees and emigrants — the world’s hungry lepers crying out for mercy.

I’m reminded of a talk given by Father Nerinx in the early days of Loretto. I think it was at Calvary and was recorded by one of the Sisters.  This is likely a bit of a paraphrase.  He said if ever this poor society has more than is needed for its own sustenance it should increase its charity — not elevate its lifestyle.  What we had been given was given to ease the burden of others. And so today we give thanks and share the work for justice and peace on street corners. We write letters and collect quarters. We invite others to the table. We pray for peace. We break and share the bread and make it truthful.  

We make the table of our lives longer and wider because the Gospel demands that we do exactly that.

The Quaker’s have a poster that says build a longer table, not a wall.  Not division. Not separation. That’s what Jesus was about — building longer tables.  Scrunching people a bit closer together.  Making the bread we share real and true.  Thanking and sharing.

That’s the challenge of Thanksgiving.  IATW and the Gospel require this of us: that we hold all things lightly — give thanks — share — and make the table longer.