Thanksgiving

It’s the time of the year where we gather together with our families and friends and share that delightfully predictable meal on Thanksgiving Day. We catch up on our distant relationships (especially grandma, who we don’t call enough), we fondly reminisce of old times, and we direct our attention with gratitude toward all the good things that fill our lives. Unsurprisingly, there’s something about Thanksgiving that’s comfortable and easy--and it should be! It’s a day where gratitude comes naturally. We’re inundated with our favorite foods, but it’s more than mashed potatoes and pecan pie. Whether the turkey is burnt, undercooked, or perfect--whether we’ve had a horrible, amazing, or mundane year--we come together on the fourth Thursday of November to be in the presence of the ones we love.
 
This meal we share on Thanksgiving is not too different from the meal Christ shared with his disciples. At the Last Supper, Christ gathered his closest friends to share a simple meal. But this meal was more than ancient Israeli cuisine.  Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body. ”Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you;  for this is my blood.” In these enduring words, Christ calls our attention to his Crucifixion. And yet, he gives thanks! How can he be grateful knowing he is in the face of unimaginable suffering?
 
There is nothing comfortable and easy about his death. The answer is simple—he knows that the love of the Father, for him and for each of us, is so much greater than any amount of suffering. He’s resigned to the fact that he will die; he knows it will be painful, but he trusts the will of his Father--there is something even greater than death.
 
It’s hard to be thankful in the midst of suffering.  In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground. Whether we like it or not, and whether or not we see it coming, we all face suffering. In his tortured prayer at Gethsemane, we so clearly see Christ’s humanity. When God became man, he inherited our fear of pain and death, but overcame them by his trust in God’s will.
 
Seminary is a joyful place, but like the rest of the world, it doesn’t come without challenges. Reflecting on what I’m most thankful for, surprisingly, I’ve found that it’s the difficult things—things that are hard; things that cause anguish. These times of trial are opportunities to make a thanksgiving to God. Christ did not remove suffering from the world. He redeemed suffering. He showed us on the cross that our human frailty can be replaced by our joyful trust in our Father who created us out of love. If pain, suffering, and death is all there is in this life, then we should all be afraid. It’s true, those things are part of our human existence, but It is precisely in our suffering that we come to know the depths of God’s radical love.
 
Thanksgiving is a time to be grateful for the abundance of goods in our lives, but also, it’s a time to be thankful for the trials. If the past year was hard, give thanks to God. If it looks like rough times are ahead, give thanks to God. If you have no clue what’s next, give thanks to God. In each of these, and at all times, we can be joyful and grateful for the God who loves us and is waiting for us at the Heavenly Banquet.

To read last week's post on the experience of teaching the faith-- The Joy of the Apostolate--please click here.