“For All That Is Our Life”
A Thanksgiving Sermon by Reverend Charles Blustein Ortman
November 20, 2005
I sometimes feel that I have to preface any thoughts on Thanksgiving with an apology to the indigenous peoples of this land. Native Americans did not invite the pilgrims to Plymouth Rock, nor did they invite the European invasion that followed. I’m sorry for what our forebears did to the natives of this country and for the way in which our culture continues to marginalize, manipulate and emasculate those nations of people who were here before us.
I am sorry for the way we have treated and continue to treat Native Americans. I also must say though, that I’m not sorry that we are here. I’m very grateful that this is my home, too. And I’m particularly appreciative that the spirit of gratitude—perhaps still not grown to maturity—is the underlying spiritual value and spiritual exercise that our country has chosen for its one day of celebrating our common, civil-religious observance.
Albert Einstein once said, "There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” The holiday of Thanksgiving invites us, encourages us, even implores us, to choose the second way—to live as though everything is a miracle.
I love Thanksgiving. Outside of Halloween, it’s my favorite holiday. It’s not tied to any particular traditional religion. It calls on us to be our best Buddha-selves, aware and appreciative of the many gifts that have been bestowed upon us by life. Thanksgiving comes in the autumn when our vision provides a stark crisp clarity in the landscape around us, when there is enough of a nip in the air to experience, by contrast, the warmth of our own body-heat as proof perfect that we are indeed alive and able to give out to and receive from this world of which we are a part.
I love Thanksgiving because it’s not just one day but an entire weekend to spend with family, or other loved ones, or alone, or some combination of all of these, in contemplation and celebration of the goodness of our personal and shared histories. And it is certainly an excellent celebration of the goodness of food. I love it because it’s the harbinger of an entire season of gatherings and celebrations that, amidst the growing darkness in the world around us, hold us in the warmth of good company and the promise of the continuity of life. Finally but not exhaustively, I love it because Thanksgiving reminds me to begin this season with a spirit of gratitude for life and for all that is our life.
With the exception of the apology at the onset, nearly everything I’ve said to this point could fit neatly on a Hallmark greeting card, or at least on a series of them. One of the beauties of Hallmark cards is that they do speak the truth about the sentiment of things. What they tend not to express though, is the struggle by which those nostalgic truths come into being.
For some of us, gratitude is an easy emotion to tap into, at least some, if not much of the time. For others of us though, it’s not so easy—most of the time. When the feeling of gratitude comes to us easily, when it’s nearly impossible for us to fail to notice the richness of our lives, given meaning by love from those around us and by our experiences that lead us to a sense of fulfillment, gratitude comes to us as a kind of grace. Even the gift of gratitude, when it’s easily experienced this way, is a gift for which to be grateful. Gratitude allows us to feel connected and whole and ready to take the next step in our lives. So when it comes easily, it is nothing short of a miraculous, gracious gift.
It’s not always so easy to be grateful for all that is our life. As M. Scott Peck wrote in his book, The Road Less Traveled: "Life is difficult. . . Once we truly know that life is difficult-once we truly understand and accept it-then life is no longer difficult. . .” I’m not so sure that it’s all that simple; I do know that there’s a great deal of truth in what he says.
There are other times though, many for some of us and fewer for others, when it’s not so easy to feel grateful for all that is our life: when a child dies, or someone else that we have loved; when love once so hopeful is lost and is nowhere to be found; when we live with the memory of past, or the thought of current abuse—psychological, physical or sexual; when we live with psychological injuries or other illnesses without certainty of cure; gratitude can be elusive. And there is our own self-inflicted pain, when promising future opportunities go unfulfilled, when we find ourselves dwelling on past regrets, when our internalized mantras affirm that we should be more developed or evolved than we find ourselves. While subjecting our shortcomings to all those internal recriminations, we can overshadow our spirit and with a troubled heart, loose sight of gratitude.
When we give up the idea that our life should be like a Hallmark greeting card, that we should be this or we should be that, and recognize, as Mahatma Gandhi once said, “that suffering is the badge of human existence,” we regain some of our perspective. The stories of our lives attain meaning, when we make peace with the idea that the gift of the Spirit of Life is not a pampered life unchallenged, but the opportunity to grow our souls—even through the challenges and times of spiritual darkness, as well as the happier moments. Then, we will have discovered something more of the value of our lives, and we will have extended that value to the world and to those around us.
I’m not suggesting that in the midst of despair we should deny our anguish and embrace instead the Hallmark version of what our lives should be. Quite the opposite, I am suggesting, that in the very midst of our most difficult moments we might allow ourselves to reside within our experience, without judgment, and yet with faith, hope and courage. Faith that life will lead to life; hope that we might make the very most of our life; and the courage to live as though the way we are living can make it so.
Gratitude is not an expression that we are likely to experience when we are in the midst of adversity. Gratefulness is a blessing that we might embrace when our experience has taught us how to be more alive for having had our lives, however long, limited by that which has encouraged our growth.
So that’s why I love Thanksgiving. It gives us the opportunity to remember the larger picture, to set aside—for a day, for an extended weekend, even for a moment—the challenges of a lifetime so that we might see them in the context of gratitude, in the fullness of all that is our life.
There are two ways to live. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle. I wish for you a lifetime filled with miracles. And I wish for you the opportunity for the experience of a deep and abiding sense of gratitude for all that is your life.
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