The Danger of No Danger

For those who are very observant, you might have noticed that there was someone in the pulpit other than me this last Sunday. Pastor Luther from Bridge of Hope and I will do a "pulpit swap" once or twice a year, which usually brings a whole slew of good things for both churches, and frankly, for both Luther and me.

When I arrived at BoH Sunday morning, I stepped into the men's Sunday school. They were talking about keeping praise vibrant in our lives, talking through all the things that God has done for us - especially good things that we don't deserve. One of the points that was discussed, one that seemingly everyone in the room except me identified with, is the miracle of waking up alive, considering all the drugs, violence, and crime that went on the night before.

Most, or likely all, of these men have extraordinarily checkered pasts. Bridge of Hope exists primarily to reach those society has written off - drug abusers, drug dealers, prostitutes, gang members, petty thieves, and even violent criminals. Waking up alive beat the odds on many mornings for many of these men, and they keep praise alive by remembering that several times over, they shouldn't even be breathing.

If I stretch my imagination to the limit, I can remember maybe four times when I felt like a beat the odds to still be alive or stay out of jail: as a child with severe asthma, two perilous encounters with drivers driving toward me in my lane of the highway, and goofing around driving as a teenager and almost hitting an elderly man. Even then, I don't think the odds were stacked high against me. I just don't have the context to feel like I'm lucky just to be alive, let alone several times over.

Nor can I identify with a family of dear friends in Kenya who thanked God at least five times in one evening that they finally have electricity to light the one light bulb they have in their house. We have well over 40 bulbs in our house, and I grumble when one of them goes out and I have to walk all the way down into the basement to get its replacement.

Perhaps most of you are similar - very little real sense that being alive is beating the odds, or that a single lit bulb deserves a choir of angels. Some of you could count on one hand the number of times you've had a close brush. A few of you could list dozens of times. But our response should not be that we feel guilty for not having the same dilemma as others. We're not worse, and we're certainly not better, because we've "cheated" death fewer times than they have. Having more light bulbs doesn't make us closer to God.

Rather, we also have something to be grateful for ... that we haven't had repeated brushes with death or jail, that we do have lit rooms. That in itself is a blessing. It is a different form of rescue. God has rescued me, and many of you, from a life that frequently tests our mortality. Those of us in that group have been "saved" from a life of real, frequent casualties.

But we also, then, face a greater danger than darkness, jail, or death - a danger that requires no less of a rescue. We face the danger of complacency, of taking God for granted, of feeling like this relatively safer life isn't a gift of grace, but rather the just rewards of a birthright. Lord, save me from the jaws of temerity!

God has not promised you that you will always be safe from all harm. We will scrape our knees. Some of us will die young. Some of us will suffer disease for years. What he does promise us is that we will always be as safe as he needs us to be for his purposes. God has a purpose for all who call on him, and he will accomplish that purpose. That means that we will always keep us safe enough for him to complete that work. For some great followers past and present around the world, that means that God kept them perfectly safe enough to make it all the way to the stake or firing squad ... in order to accomplish his purpose.

And that's plenty to be thankful for.

It's not just that I'm alive when shouldn't be, but that I don't normally even have to worry about it (when what I deserve is to be constantly running for my life). The more I pursue God's purpose, the more I can rest assured that I will always be exactly as safe as I need to be for him to accomplish his purpose with my life. Or death. He owns both.

You Can't Fake Thanksgiving

Fourth Thursday of November ... time to be thankful for a while. Maybe an extra long prayer to say thanks while the mashed potatoes are getting cold. And certainly thankful when kickoff finally happens.

Does anyone else feel a little awkward trying to "turn on" an attitude of thanksgiving because of the calendar? To their credit, many folks have taken to "no whining" November, posting things online they are thankful for every day of the month. That, or not shaving. November is funny that way. But still, I have a little personal problem with "it's now time to be thankful."

The guilt trip ready to happen is, "Well, you should be thankful every day." True enough, but that still doesn't stir feelings of thanksgiving deep in my bones. Now I'm thankless and guilty.

Or, "count your many blessings." That's OK, too, and can help us focus more on blessing than on things - health, family, love, safety, purpose, and so on. But if I do this too often, I begin to think that it's all about me. Worse, that if my blessings are less than I think they should be, or heaven forbid, less than my neighbor's, then thankfulness is precisely what does not occur.

By no means am I transforming into Thanksgiving's version of Ebenezer Scrooge. I'm not sour to the holiday, and I do enjoy turning responsibilities aside and spending time with friends and family - especially family members who are particularly good at making pie.

But what about this attitude of thanksgiving thing? It's important enough that Scripture twice gives us the imperative "be thankful":

Col 3:15 And the peace of Christ must rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body, and be thankful.  

Heb 12:27 Now the phrase “yet once more” indicates the removal of what is shaken, namely, things that have been created, in order that the things that are not shaken may remain. 28 Therefore, since we are receiving an unshakable kingdom, let us be thankful, through which let us serve God acceptably, with awe and reverence. 

Followers of Christ are commanded to be thankful! But if following Christ is so awesome, do we really need to told to be thankful? Shouldn't we just be so overwhelmed with God's goodness that we're just thankful all the time?

In fact, we do need to be told to be thankful ... because the gravity of fallen humanity draws us away from that attitude. Being thankful is an uphill climb, not because we don't have anything to be thankful for, but because of the tendency of the flesh to wallow in self-absorbed complaining about what we covet but don't have.

How do I obey this command to be thankful, then? It won't happen by weighing the good stuff against the bad stuff. We won't be consistently thankful if we focus on ourselves and what we have.

An attitude of thanksgiving comes from knowing the goodness of God, and that He shares His goodness with us. Not just in material things, but also in His attributes. He is a loving God, and we get to participate in this good thing called "love." He is a relational God, and we get to be in relationship with Him through Christ. He is a forgiving God, and we get to give and receive forgiveness with one another. He is a just God, and we get to participate in bringing justice in this world. And so on. We have a share in the goodness of God, and that actually does keep me thankful.

Be thankful. Not just because you have stuff that poor people in Madeupistan don't have, but because God is perfectly good and allows, even invites, us to share in His good attributes. It would truly be a thankless world if we were not allowed to do so.