Thanksgiving Eve

November 26, 2008

Matthew 17.11-19

This evening I appear before you half the man I used to be. As some of you might know, I have lost over 70 pounds since last year. I don’t’ have to tell you that 70 pounds is a lot of weight. We’ve all seen those infomercials with doctors showing what 10 or 20 pounds of fat look like. Or those commercials in which they tell us that carrying that much weight is the equivalent of carrying around a certain number of bowling balls.

It has been an incredible experience for me. I don’t feel, physically, the way I did before. I feel lighter and more comfortable in physical body than I ever have before. I love buying new clothes—clothes that fit me and look good on me.

Losing that much weight is not just a physical experience; it is an emotional and psychological experience as well. I can tell you in all honesty that losing that much weight involves a radical change of thought regarding food.

And what I realized in my understanding of food and how I dealt with it, was that, for the most part, we don’t even think about what we’re eating or why we’re eating. We eat out of habit. We eat because our internal clocks tell us, not because our stomachs tell us. We eat because we’re bored, or because we can, or because we just don’t want food to go to waste. And even if we eat our meals on time, we still are tempted to snack on foods when we’re not hungry. Still, even with all that food we eat, we find out that food does go to waste. We will no doubt see a lot of our own food go to waste tomorrow and in the days and weeks to come.

In the Litany of Thanksgiving, which can be found on page 837 in the Prayer Book, which we will pray together in a few moments, we find a petition there that really speaks to that mindlessness we all sometimes have regarding food. The petition begins, “ For our daily food and drink…We thank you, Lord.

The fact is, we really don’t. We don’t thank God as we should for the food and drink we receive daily, because we are just so used to this food. And as a result of our thanklessness, we take advantage of food. We eat without thinking, or without gratitude. We use food not for nourishment, not for sustenance, but to fill our own needs. We use food to fill the spiritual and psychological gaps within us.

Only when I stopped eating mindlessly was I able to truly change everything about myself and how I ate. When people see me now after not having seen me in a while and notice the weight I’ve lost, they almost always ask: “How did you do it?” I have no problem telling anyone my secret—a secret that, if I was more of an entrepreneur—I would exploit. If I was more motivated to just make money in a get-rich quick scheme, I could go out and make a load of money by writing some self-help diet book. The title of that book would be a catchy title that captures perfectly the secret of my weight loss. And it is a simple formula, and it’s one that truly works. And if more people followed it, I would guarantee that they would lose weight. The secret formula is this—nothing more, nothing less:

Eat less. Move more.

Just that and nothing more. There’s no special food you have to eat less of. I didn’t cut out carbs, or dairy, or count calories. I didn’t drink diet shakes or only eat grapefruit or drink liquids and no solids. I simply took what food I normally ate and just cut it in half. And…I got up and moved. I didn’t push myself physically. I didn’t work out to the point of exhaustion. I simply just moved. And the weight, slowly but surely came off. I stopped snacking. I stopped eating everything on my plate. I stopped eating without thinking. I stopped eating when I wasn’t hungry. I started eating smaller portions. I ate when I was hungry—when I felt hunger—real hunger—a feeling I hadn’t felt in years—in my stomach.

All of this, of course, is important to ponder and consider as we prepare ourselves for our meals tomorrow. Yes, it’s good to be with family. It’s good to sit down and eat and drink and be nourished both physically and emotionally. And we need to be thankful for that nourishment. But we also need, at this time of Thanksgiving, to think about our spiritual nourishment as well. Our spiritual nourishment comes to us not through food or drink. Our spiritual nourishment comes through awareness. It comes through mindfulness. It comes through being awake spiritually so that we can live fully and completely. And sometimes to wake ourselves up spiritually, to be mindful, we need to deny ourselves.

In tonight’s Gospel reading, we find the ten lepers coming before Jesus, and crying out to him, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” Mercy is a strange and wonderful thing. In this Gospel, we find that mercy is given to all of them. The ones who ultimately are unable to show their gratitude are still healed by the end of the story. And the one who is thankful doesn’t get anything additional from Jesus. Or at least, on the surface, it doesn’t seem like he does. There is no additional miracle. The result is the same. But the one who is grateful is the one comes back to Jesus, prostrates himself and thanks him.

By prostrating himself—by humbling himself in that way—he is not making himself the center of his life anymore. He is, in a very real way, denying himself. By prostrating himself, we know that he has been mindfulness enough, aware enough, that something great and powerful has happened in his life and he has went back to the source of this powerful change to express his gratitude. And we know that this awareness has humbled him. This mindfulness of what has happened to him has not sent him off to mindlessly bask in his renewed health. Rather, it has sent him to his knees in gratitude. In doing so, what he does come away with is not only healing, but his renewed faith. That is what makes all the difference in his life.

Today, we too have seen mercy come into our lives. It has come into our lives as grace. It has come raining into our life in more ways that we can fully recollect or express gratitude for.
In our Litany, we find another wonderful petition. In that petition, we pray, “For all that is gracious in the lives of men and women, revealing the image of Christ, we thank you, Lord.” When those moments of graciousness—of pure and holy grace—come into our lives, we find Christ in our midst. Like those ten lepers in tonight’s Gospel, grace came to them in their healing. Did they deserve the healing? Well, you can be the judge of that. Certainly some people would very quickly say, “No, they didn’t. Their ungrateful attitude makes void whatever they deserved.” But the fact that the healing stayed with them despite the fact they did not say “thank you,” was a grace to them.

In a similar way, that is what we should be pondering and being thankful for tonight and tomorrow. When those moments of grace have com into our lives, have we been thankful? Have we been mindful and aware of them? In our mindfulness and awareness, have we seen the revealed image of Christ in those grace-filled moments of our life? If we have, have we, like the one of leper, prostrated ourselves—denied ourselves—and expressed our deep-felt gratitude to Christ.

Tomorrow eat and drink and be grateful. But also be mindful. Be aware. Be moderate in your consumption and consider the fact that the grace sin your life are wonderful and beautiful. You are surrounded by loved ones, by food and drink and emotional and spiritual security, while others, at this same time, are not. Others are not so fortunate. Other are starving, are lost, are lonely, are slaves to their addictions and their obsessions and their pains. And knowing that—being aware of that—let this awareness humble you. Let it send you also to your knees in gratitude. Let it change you and heal you where you need to be healed. When you get up from your knees, be aware that what you have is more than just healing. It is renewed faith.

“Get up and go your way; your faith has made you well.” These are the words that should be ringing in our ears on this Thanksgiving. These are the words that should give fuel to the fire of our own personal thankfulness.