Make Us Truly Thankful?
I grew up in a family that said grace. It seemed unusual even back then, and I suppose it would be more unusual these days. I was always embarrassed about it when friends came over, and it was the height of mortification to be asked to actually say grace myself if a buddy of mine was sitting at our supper table.
The discomfort has stayed with me - I'll confess in this space that while I silently bless my food to this day, it's only on a rare occasion that I'll say grace for the table. When I do, it's an e. e. cummings poem, and not the Christian blessing I grew up with. I have issues, as they say.
The graces my family said throughout my childhood were simple ones. We kids said "God is great, God is good; Let us thank Him for our food. The grownups said, "Dear Lord, for what we are about to receive, make us truly thankful. Amen." My sister and I would rush through our turns at grace, but I have to hand it to both my parents for uttering theirs with complete sincerity. They do it even now.
For my part, I didn't think much about what either grace meant. Even as a kid I had issues - with the church, and the kind of churchiness that I thought saying grace represented. I just rolled my eyes, or stuck out my tongue at my sister, or fidgeted for a few moments waiting to dig in to the bounty that was laid before me daily.
A few years ago, my elderly aunt was with us for a big family gathering. She's sharp as a tack, with a shrill tongue at times, and not much love for church or churchiness. My mother said her usual humble grace, and we were all about to tuck in when my not-so-sainted aunt shrieked, "Make us truly thankful? MAKE us truly thankful? I've never heard such a thing in my life!"
One of the privileges traditionally accorded the elderly is forbearance. Dear old auntie's rather shocking pronouncement was greeted with a rueful shrug by my mother, mumbles and chuckles of cheerful placation around the table, and that was about it. No one mentioned it again.
I think of it to this day, though. I know what my aunt was getting at: in HER day, she was thinking, when you thanked the Lord, you jolly well WERE thankful, and rightly so. Food was harder to come by. There was hardship and need all around. People strove and struggled and whatever bounty there was, was received with thankfulness that you didn't have to ask the Lord to make you feel.
But I get the meaning of that grace. In fact I'm in complete agreement, after all those years of barely sitting through it. I need to be made thankful. I'm so deeply in need of gratitude that I'd be willing to ask for divine help over it.
I can't tell you how many times I've opened the fridge with a full belly. How frequently I buy things I don't need and will barely have time to use. How I turn on the TV instead of meditating; wander off to the bar instead of engaging in an evening of conversation and contemplation with my spouse; read until all hours at night instead of enjoying the gift of sleep. I'm thankful, alright - for coffee in the morning and for dropping the workload at the front door in the evening.
I can't say I'm truly thankful. I try to be. I try to notice the quality of light in the rising sun, the beauty of the breeze on a bike ride, the joy that beams in my friends and family's faces. I think about the child's grace we used to say, and think about the hesitation: "Let us thank Him" - it's as if we were always just preparing to give thanks. I need some help getting the feeling even now.
At Christmas last year I got asked to say the grace for the gathered clan. I took it seriously. I introduced my trusty, ecumenical e. e. cummings grace and heard my aunt's stage whisper from the other end of the table: "I don't like his poetry!" I grinned. "We hear you, you know," I said. And then I said this:
"That one wasn't so bad," sniffed my aunt.
The bounty is laid before us, while there is hardship and need all around.
Make us truly thankful,
Amen.
The discomfort has stayed with me - I'll confess in this space that while I silently bless my food to this day, it's only on a rare occasion that I'll say grace for the table. When I do, it's an e. e. cummings poem, and not the Christian blessing I grew up with. I have issues, as they say.
The graces my family said throughout my childhood were simple ones. We kids said "God is great, God is good; Let us thank Him for our food. The grownups said, "Dear Lord, for what we are about to receive, make us truly thankful. Amen." My sister and I would rush through our turns at grace, but I have to hand it to both my parents for uttering theirs with complete sincerity. They do it even now.
For my part, I didn't think much about what either grace meant. Even as a kid I had issues - with the church, and the kind of churchiness that I thought saying grace represented. I just rolled my eyes, or stuck out my tongue at my sister, or fidgeted for a few moments waiting to dig in to the bounty that was laid before me daily.
A few years ago, my elderly aunt was with us for a big family gathering. She's sharp as a tack, with a shrill tongue at times, and not much love for church or churchiness. My mother said her usual humble grace, and we were all about to tuck in when my not-so-sainted aunt shrieked, "Make us truly thankful? MAKE us truly thankful? I've never heard such a thing in my life!"
One of the privileges traditionally accorded the elderly is forbearance. Dear old auntie's rather shocking pronouncement was greeted with a rueful shrug by my mother, mumbles and chuckles of cheerful placation around the table, and that was about it. No one mentioned it again.
I think of it to this day, though. I know what my aunt was getting at: in HER day, she was thinking, when you thanked the Lord, you jolly well WERE thankful, and rightly so. Food was harder to come by. There was hardship and need all around. People strove and struggled and whatever bounty there was, was received with thankfulness that you didn't have to ask the Lord to make you feel.
But I get the meaning of that grace. In fact I'm in complete agreement, after all those years of barely sitting through it. I need to be made thankful. I'm so deeply in need of gratitude that I'd be willing to ask for divine help over it.
I can't tell you how many times I've opened the fridge with a full belly. How frequently I buy things I don't need and will barely have time to use. How I turn on the TV instead of meditating; wander off to the bar instead of engaging in an evening of conversation and contemplation with my spouse; read until all hours at night instead of enjoying the gift of sleep. I'm thankful, alright - for coffee in the morning and for dropping the workload at the front door in the evening.
I can't say I'm truly thankful. I try to be. I try to notice the quality of light in the rising sun, the beauty of the breeze on a bike ride, the joy that beams in my friends and family's faces. I think about the child's grace we used to say, and think about the hesitation: "Let us thank Him" - it's as if we were always just preparing to give thanks. I need some help getting the feeling even now.
At Christmas last year I got asked to say the grace for the gathered clan. I took it seriously. I introduced my trusty, ecumenical e. e. cummings grace and heard my aunt's stage whisper from the other end of the table: "I don't like his poetry!" I grinned. "We hear you, you know," I said. And then I said this:
we thank you god for this most amazing day
for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky
and for everything
which is natural
which is infinite
which is yes
"That one wasn't so bad," sniffed my aunt.
The bounty is laid before us, while there is hardship and need all around.
Make us truly thankful,
Amen.
posted by David Newland at 6.10.07
2 Comments:
Thanks David for the great blog entry. I've been thinking about "gratitude" quite a bit lately; how grateful I am for all that I have; friends, family, food, shelter... the list in endless. I recently got a tattoo, of a sunflower with SVFF in the center. I'm going to have some touching up on the tattoo, and will also add the word "Gratitude" above the sunflower. Then everytime I will see the sunflower with "Gratitude" above it; I'll say a little thank you for all I have received. Keep blogging.. I love them.
I can totally relate- and what's even more extraordinary, my parents went from never saying grace at dinner, to saying it every night- after they joined the church, I mean.
I do however look back in awe that they didn't protest me or my brother never wanting to say grace. I recall that they started out very awkward about it, since all they could do was try to emulate the blessing of the food they could recall from their childhood. But eventually they got the hang of it, and when they say the blessing now, it isn't just for the food- it always includes thanking the Lord that we can all be together, asking that he help someone we know who is sick to get well, asking him to bless someone who has a particular challenge to face etc. What was once something that made me shift uncomfortably in my seat is now something that makes me choke up with emotion instead.
And that's an anecdote that I don't often consider out of context- I've rarely considered that everyone does it differently.
But now you've made me thankful I've thought about it. :)
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