The Thankful Cynic

The sunset last night was beautiful.  I was looking for more dramatic words to describe it but "beautiful" in its fullest sense does best.  The silhouette of the Adirondacks to our west enhanced the colorful drama.  It was the sort of view that makes one stop.  And I did.  I was tempted to take an iPhone picture but I knew it would be disappointing.  There are things that cannot and perhaps should not be contained on film, or in this case, pixels.

So instead, I just said "thank you" to God.  And in doing so I started to wonder, what if I had no one to thank?  Thankfulness is always a sense of gratitude toward something - usually someone.  I thought about how different, poorer actually, my life would be if I had only atmospheric conditions or the multichromatic nature of visible light or even the big bang to be thankful to.  The first poverty is that none of these actually cares that I am thankful.  But that is only the smallest of the penuries.

What happens if we have no one to thank?  What is the damage to our soul?  One of those damages occurred to me - likely because it is a familiar acquaintance (I will not call it friend) - cynicism.  Cynicism is that jaded and mistaken belief that "it's all takin' and no givin'" to quote the physically ample and altered bard, Dolly Parton.  The cynic lives in the prison of thanklessness.  No one or nothing gives so there is nothing to be thankful for.  It is a self-protective posture, protecting oneself from disappointment by looking for nothing anywhere.  Self-protecteive and self-centered.  Guarding ourselves from hope, from belief, from receiving, we who are cynics live looking after ourselves.  We do not understand the sweet transport of self-forgetfulness.

Thankfulness gets us out of ourselves in two ways.  Our attention is focused not on our selves or our preservation, but first upon the gift.  And beauty, of course, is not the only gift.  It is not only the things that we see as good that can be gifts.  Sometimes tears may be a gift, for example.  Beyond the gift, our focus is also on the Giver.  In these, gift and Giver, we are joyfully other-focused.  And not because we are supposed to be other-focused and it is our duty or perhaps our cross to bear. Just because we are full and not empty.

One other thing.  This morning as I read Psalm 148 (appointed for this morning in the lectionary) another, more exciting thought occurred to me.  What if I were not the only thing showing thankfulness?


Praise the LORD!
Praise the LORD from the heavens;
praise him in the heights!
Praise him, all his angels;
praise him, all his hosts!
Praise him, sun and moon,
praise him, all you shining stars!
Praise him, you highest heavens,
and you waters above the heavens!
Let them praise the name of the LORD!
For he commanded and they were created.
And he established them forever and ever;
he gave a decree, and it shall not pass away.
Praise the LORD from the earth,
you great sea creatures and all deeps,
fire and hail, snow and mist,
stormy wind fulfilling his word!
Mountains and all hills,
fruit trees and all cedars!

(Psalm 148:1-9 ESV - emphasis mine)

Jesus once suggested that if we were to fail to praise and give thanks the rocks themselves would cry out.  (Luke 19:40)  The heavens declare the glory of God. (Psalm 19:1)

What I realize this morning is that in my thankfulness last evening, I was not alone.  Yet another gift - and another nail in the coffin of cynicism.

Eggnog

I was in Starbucks last evening looking for an expensive hot drink.  I was at the right place.  A couple of years ago during Advent I tried their eggnog latte which I really liked.  Alas it is not good to have champagne taste on a beer budget.  I have found a beer budget alternative which involves using eggnog instead of cream in my coffee.  Not quite as good but I can drink 10 of them for the price of one at Starbucks.  But this is only obliquely about eggnog and coffee.

As I walked in last night I thought, "Ooooh, an eggnog latte sounds great."  However all of the festive red signage had been replaced by the usual black.  A bad sign.  The holiday fare was no longer available.  I lamented.  Aloud.  I told the barista (a word I was blissfully ignorant of until the Seattle coffee culture invaded the rest of the continent), I told the barista that Christmas was not yet over, that in fact it would last until Saturday only changing with the feast of the Epiphany on Sunday.  I unapologetically used these technical words, "Christmas" and "Epiphany," as I feel "holiday" is too generic.  Indeed yesterday, when I was looking for Christmas eggnog was only ten drummers drumming day, we still had pipers piping and lords a leaping to go.

He good-naturedly suggested that they still had peppermint.  But that's not eggnog, is it?

It's all very anachronistic and not at all culturally relevant, but I find that as the years go on I am being increasingly attuned to and formed by the church calendar and less by the Gregorian one.  (Following it consistently has a lot to do with this.)  The rhythms of the year, Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Ascension and Pentecost have become the rhythms of my life.  Days like Pentecost hold more interest and significance for me than Mother's Day.  The feast of St. Michael and All Angels (September 29) is one I remember before Groundhog Day.

The church year is shaped around the redeeming work of God in Jesus Christ.  All of the major events and themes of his life are brought before me every year for contemplation and adoration.  Critical events in the lives of his apostles (the conversion of St. Paul - January 25 - and the confession of St. Peter - January 18, for example) annually present themselves for education and edification.

It is not my intention to hate on Mother's Day or President's Day or even Black Friday (although this last one tempts me to judge).  I am merely stating that I appreciate being shaped and formed by Jesus' story more and more.  It is, in the end, what I want most.

So today is still Christmas - eleven pipers piping day.  I'm going to see if I can find some eggnog.