December 10, 2023

Isaiah 40:1-11; Mark 1:1-8

When I was a young boy, I attended the local parochial school in my home town. And while I was there, the nuns taught us how to say grace. Now I was 6 years old at the time, so this had to be a simple prayer, one not terribly difficult to memorize. I still remember that short prayer of grace to this day.

God is great.
God is good.
Let us thank him,
For our food. Amen.

Short and sweet. It gets the job done.

However, when I was 6 years old, long ago in first grade, I had a problem with this short prayer. I’ll say it again and maybe you can figure it out.

God is great.
God is good.
Let us thank him,
For our food. Amen.

My problem was that “good” and “food” do not rhyme. They do not rhyme. And that lack of rhyming was a problem for 6 year old me. Not that I would ever have pointed that out to the nuns. Perish the thought.

But as a young child, when something seemed like it was supposed to rhyme, I wanted it to rhyme. To this day, I still want it to rhyme. Perhaps some of you are like that or were like that. That is not an unusual request, at least not to me. Make things rhyme when they ought to rhyme.

And it still bothers me a little when hymns do not rhyme. I know there are reasons for these little oddities in lyrics. But that does not mean that I still do not crave that order, that symmetry of a plain and simple rhyme. Is it that much to ask?

Children, like me at least, like patterns. They like an orderly sense of the world. They might even like a tradition or two. Go figure.

Perhaps you share in my desire for pattern, for tradition, for order. Not all the time necessarily. Not all the time. That can get a bit tiresome, a bit forced. But, when it comes to this time of year, a little tradition goes a long way.

And tradition is the flavor of this season. We are getting ready. The tree is up in the parish hall. The creche is on the piano. The altar cloth is purple, the proper color for the season – take my word for it even when it clashes with the flowers.

In the season of Advent, we are getting ready for the birthdate of Jesus. And in the time of Christmas, many of us are getting ready for other events, other happenings, other traditions. Maybe travelling, maybe hosting. Maybe it is more complicated than that. Maybe it is a blue season for some of us, a time of longing and remembrance. There are many possibilities.

For some of us, I am guessing, there are traditions surrounding this season and that particular day. Traditions and patterns that provide an orderly sense to the season and the day. Traditions from long ago or of recent creation. Traditions we cherish and traditions we tolerate. Not that those traditions and patterns always perfectly fall into place, but it is meet and right when they do.

A couple of weeks ago, was another time when many of us follow traditions. A certain Thursday. Perhaps turkey was involved. And indeed, it is a day of traditions. Food traditions, sports traditions. Parades and pageantry. Maybe new traditions to replace old traditions, or maybe old traditions to replace some of the new ones. Dealer’s choice. Traditions and patterns that provide an orderly sense to the world around us and the end of the year.

Thanksgiving for my family was cultural in most respects rather than historical. As I was growing up, the holiday was never about the Pilgrims or any of that. The nuns made us color pictures of people with buckles on their hats, which I did not understand – was the hat going to fall off? Anyway, I grew up Catholic and we spent absolutely zero time concerning ourselves with what the English settlers did or said or stole. We were Italian and we did not have a dog in that fight, as the saying goes.

No, for us, Thanksgiving was about the family getting together and eating. It was about seeing people who did not come around too often. It was about jumping back into that long line of past holidays celebrating a plentiful feast, lifting a glass of good cheer, and watching a lot of football. A lot.

One of the primary tasks of Thanksgiving is, not surprisingly, giving thanks. It’s in the name. We are supposed to give thanks on that day. And one of my jobs is to get up here and say to you all, “You should be thankful.” You should be thankful for all that you have received, even though I haven’t the slightest idea about it.

The same degree of mandatory gratitude can be said for Christmas. Get together. Embrace the spirit of the season. Eat, drink, and be merry. Try not to get into a fight about politics. And be thankful once again. Be thankful for all that has happened in the past year.

And yet…

And yet, I must confess, that I have never been particularly comfortable telling people how they should feel. Should feel versus how we do feel.

Only you all know what you have to be thankful for. Only you all know whether in this place and in this time you feel thankful. What the days and months have been like this past year. So, I am not going to do that. I am not going to tell you how to feel.

Instead, I will tell you a story.

The day before Thanksgiving, I drove up to see my son and my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter. Yes, my new granddaughter, who is 16 months old. They drove out from Upstate New York and will be visiting for the holidays. We were all together once again.

And on that day, my granddaughter became a little hungry. So, her grandmother cut up some strawberries and kiwi fruit and handed the bowl to me. My granddaughter sat on my lap and she would carefully take a strawberry from the bowl and feed herself. And then she would take a piece of kiwi fruit and feed it to me.

You see this was the first time she had ever had kiwi fruit. And I quickly discovered something. My granddaughter does not like kiwi fruit. Not at all. So, she was feeding all the kiwi fruit to me.

Another important aspect of this story is that I do not particularly like kiwi fruit. Really, not my thing. And yet here I was dutifully eating the fruit so my granddaughter could get down to the good stuff, the bright red strawberries. This is apparently part of what it means to be a grandfather – I am learning new things every day.

Given my explanation, you might imagine that I would have preferred not eating a good old helping of kiwi fruit if that is not a preferred food. But you would be incorrect in that assumption.

I thought this was all incredibly funny. Even when I tried to feed her kiwi fruit, she would gently guide it back to me. And my job was to protect her from the dastardly kiwi fruit. And I got a hefty dose of Vitamin C in the process. Blessings abound.

Because, honestly, blessings come in many shapes and sizes. Sometimes they take the form of something we want. But in this case, the blessing was something else. I did not particularly want my blessing in the form or in the flavor presented, but I was grateful for having it in that moment.

Sometimes whether something is a blessing is a question of perspective.

For example, where were you three years ago? In Boston, we were in between pandemic shutdowns. We were figuring out what we could and could not do, and what we should and should not do. We were looking for a new pattern. We were looking for the effect of it on the traditions of the season. We were looking for the changing order of things. What a difference a few years make.

Sometimes we might be thankful for what we are about to receive. Sometimes we might be thankful for what we have had. And sometimes we might be thankful for simply getting through it, getting through all that we have had to overcome.

The occasionally long and at times difficult road that has brought us to this place, to this day, to this moment. I am thankful that the pandemic is over with—or “overish”—even though there are many lingering challenges before me and us all right now. It is better than it was. And that is a blessing.

In our reading from Isaiah, we heard a little bit about blessings yet to come: Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.  Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.

The Book of Isaiah is not known for being particularly comforting. It is about what is to come after a long period of difficulties. Things will get better, but not quite yet.

But, in the long arc of troubles faced by the people of Israel, there was going to be a change. A shift from darkness to light, a shift from mourning to glad tidings. It would take some time, but it was on its way. It might even look a little different than we expected, but here it comes.

This sentiment reminded me of an old poem, by the poet Rumi. It I called “Guest House” and here’s how it goes.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond. [PAUSE]

A crowd of sorrows. Invite them inside. Be grateful for whoever comes. Regardless of our concerns and trepidations. Regardless of our hesitations on the matter. That is easy for Rumi to say.

Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

This is a challenge for us, to see the shape of unexpected blessings. The shape of initially undesirable events. This is a lesson about wisdom. And sometimes wisdom can seem like the sum total of our many cuts and bruises.

The Book of Isaiah is filled with such backhanded wisdom. Wisdom that comes through times of suffering, of coming to understand that human beings need to learn not only from the bounty of blessings they recognize, but the hidden blessings that come to us in unexpected ways.

It is not only about negative circumstances coming to an end. It is about understanding what we have sown in our lives and what has grown up despite our best efforts at tending and weeding. How we care for the gardens of our lives, both the intentional and the unplanned for growth that might surprise us along the way. It is that which sprouts up all around us. And sometimes we need to look closely. We need to look closely to notice when something we thought was a weed to be cast aside is actually what we really needed all along.

And how we come to understand all of that growth, all of that change, all of that newfound and hard won wisdom, might truly be a blessing. A blessing we come to recognize when we take the chance to look around us with eyes open to the unfamiliar shape of God’s presence just around the corner.

Which got me to thinking: what am I thankful for this morning?

I am thankful for the people around me and the opportunities I have had to be with them. Even when those people can be challenging.

I am thankful for what has transpired this year. Even if this year has had its ups and downs.

And I am truly, truly thankful for a little girl and a bowl of kiwi fruit. And I still do not like kiwi fruit.

I am thankful for these blessings large and small, expected and unexpected, wanted and not initially wanted.

I am thankful for the bounty of God’s blessings as well as the gift of perspective. A different way of looking around me that makes the world seem a bit brighter, particularly because we have passed through a time of darkness.

For even as the darkness grows with the coming of winter, the light will return to us. The light will return to us again and again with the sureness of dawn. And for this I am thankful.

And I hope and pray that each of you have in your heart and in your mind something for which you too might be thankful. Something that has made you smile. Something that has been a little gift to your soul. I hope and pray that this is true.

And, as we go from this place, may we be thankful for this moment together. This time away in the presence of God and in the company of others, to share in a moment’s rest and a few glad songs of hope and praise.

This is the day the Lord has made, let us be glad and rejoice.

And, I will conclude with a short little prayer of grace for you all:

God is great.
God is good.
Let us thank him,
As we should, Amen.

It took me fifty years, but finally I fixed that little prayer. It sometimes just takes a little time, but when we eventually get things right, it is a blessing. Amen.