from the Responsorial Psalm:
Let all your works give you thanks, O LORD, and let your faithful ones bless you. Let them discourse of the glory of your Kingdom and speak of your might.
November 22 inevitably recalls a sad, painful memory for many people in the United States and around the world, when President Kennedy was shot in 1963. I was fifteen years old, a sophomore at Mount Saint Francis Seminary. I remember dread, a sense that the world was falling apart. My anguish intensified when Lee Harvey Oswald was murdered on television as the nation watched. Fifty-five years later, I realize we work out our salvation with fear and trembling in this dreadful place.
But this particular November 22 is Thanksgiving, a day of remembrance established by President Lincoln as the Civil War was coming to an end. Unfortunately, like President Kennedy, he was shot; he did not live to observe that grateful Day of Prayer in 1865.
To pull out of my funk, I recall the words of the Prodigal Son's father, "We have to celebrate!"
Anyone can be cynical. It's easy to remember how many people will not be thankful today; how many people are hungry, homeless, imprisoned unjustly by a mindless penal system, or treated shabbily by a mindless Economy. How many families are remembering a loved one who was gunned down since this national holiday last year? Thanksgiving, the critic says, is celebrated not with prayers but football games, overeating, intoxication, political arguments and Black Friday.
Let all your works give you thanks, O LORD, and let your faithful ones bless you. Let them discourse of the glory of your Kingdom and speak of your might.
November 22 inevitably recalls a sad, painful memory for many people in the United States and around the world, when President Kennedy was shot in 1963. I was fifteen years old, a sophomore at Mount Saint Francis Seminary. I remember dread, a sense that the world was falling apart. My anguish intensified when Lee Harvey Oswald was murdered on television as the nation watched. Fifty-five years later, I realize we work out our salvation with fear and trembling in this dreadful place.
But this particular November 22 is Thanksgiving, a day of remembrance established by President Lincoln as the Civil War was coming to an end. Unfortunately, like President Kennedy, he was shot; he did not live to observe that grateful Day of Prayer in 1865.
To pull out of my funk, I recall the words of the Prodigal Son's father, "We have to celebrate!"
Anyone can be cynical. It's easy to remember how many people will not be thankful today; how many people are hungry, homeless, imprisoned unjustly by a mindless penal system, or treated shabbily by a mindless Economy. How many families are remembering a loved one who was gunned down since this national holiday last year? Thanksgiving, the critic says, is celebrated not with prayers but football games, overeating, intoxication, political arguments and Black Friday.
But cynicism takes no particular courage, energy or creativity; it is not a sign of honesty or integrity. We have to celebrate gratitude. If we do not celebrate we will certainly not feel it. Nor can we claim to be grateful if we let this opportunity pass in a sultry funk.
I am grateful for gratitude, for that divine spirit that, despite myself, rises above the moment and praises God for all good things. I am grateful that the Lord knew this same temptation and overcame it daily as he approached Jerusalem.
Even in today's gospel, when he might be sidelined with resentment toward "the other nine," he graciously accepts the gratitude of the healed Samaritan. I am grateful for the darkness that wants me to be cynical and attempts to overwhelm me, for in the darkness I see the light of Christ shining more brilliantly.
President Lincoln and the American Civil Religion which he inspired call us to go beyond ourselves. We set aside our worries about food, clothing, security and success; we acknowledge the God who gives us more than we have earned or deserved.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.