Sunday, October 10th, 2021 – Thanksgiving Sunday
Philip’s Reflection: “Saying Thank You”
As you’ve just heard, Paul has a special affection for the church at Philippi in northern
Greece, he writes of a church “whom I love and long for” (4:1). Paul tells us that he’s
writing from prison, probably in Ephesus, 300 miles or so away in modern day Turkey,
where he’s awaiting trial. And he now writes to thank the Philippians for the gifts they’ve
sent him and, from prison, he offers them advice and encouragement. Because like
many of the early churches at that time, and also for the church today, the Philippians
were experiencing some tension, perhaps looking for a sense of purpose, unclear about
their future role, maybe even worried about future survival within a hostile environment.
What does this letter have to say to us at St. David’s on this Thanksgiving Sunday?
We hear first about two women, Euodia and Syntyche, evidence that women were in
positions of leadership in the Philippian church, and Paul urges them “to be of the same
mind in the Lord” (4:2) – not to think identically, but as Paul’s co-workers, who have
“struggled beside me in the work of the gospel” (4:3) to act together because, like all
those working in the Philippian church, what they had in common, their togetherness, is
so much more important than their differences. As we know, unity isn’t the same thing
as uniformity, and differences of view or culture or tradition have always been
experienced in the church, and always will, and they are to be welcomed and
celebrated. As Paul suggests, difference doesn’t prevent all members of a community
working together for the common good – on the contrary, as we know at St. David’s,
diversity strengthens the witness of the community.
But, apart from this evidence of female leadership, what is most remarkable about this
text is its emphasis on joy – “Rejoice in the Lord always: again I will say, Rejoice.” This
written by a man in chains, incarcerated in some hellhole, below ground, in conditions
that defy imagination, facing the possibility of a gruesome death. We might have
expected to hear anger or fear or even despair – but no, instead we witness a
remarkable joy, as Paul asks the Philippian church to rejoice in the Lord. And just as
remarkable, from someone experiencing brutal imprisonment, Paul calls for gentleness
“let your gentleness be known to everyone” he says (4:5) – gentleness towards each
other and gentleness towards yourselves – why? Because, says Paul, “The Lord is
near”. Real joy, and the strength to be gentle, says Paul, comes from the assurance that
no matter what we have done, or left undone, and not even in death, we are inseparably
connected to God (Rom. 8:38-39).
Each day, it seems, we are confronted by evidence of our sinfulness – particularly at
this time when we’re reminded of the sinful actions undertaken in the name of the
church, or as a nation, towards the first peoples of this country, and to their children; or
through climate change, we have become increasingly aware of the damage we have
caused, and are causing, to God’s creation through greed or neglect or ignorance; and
each night on our television screens, we are reminded of the continuing injustices
experienced in so many parts of the world, through war or oppression or poverty.
Yes, we’re called to confess our sins and we have to own our history and we repent with
contrite hearts and in humility. But I don’t believe that God wants us live our lives under
a cloud of shame, or even that a feeling of guilt or remorse helps us feel closer to God.
If anything, in my own experience, it makes us feel further apart, distant from the source
of all goodness and mercy. So instead of finding fault with our imperfections, with
disagreements or anxiety, how about we start to treat them by practicing compassion?
Instead of scolding ourselves for every shortcoming, we might acknowledge the value of
what Paul asks of the Philippian church – to “let your gentleness be known to everyone”
– including, I would add, to yourself. Because if we learn to be patient and
compassionate toward ourselves, then surely we will have more patience and
compassion for others as well.
We must remember the Gospel message - that we are a loved and forgiven people;
and, as Paul says, this is a cause, not for anguish or self-abasement, but for
celebration, for joy, even amidst the grieving. Surely there’s more than enough grieving
to go around: but we could probably all do with a bit more joy, couldn’t we?
Paul’s letter contains two significant words that help us re-orient towards joy – and they
are “with thanksgiving” – rejoice, be gentle, do not worry, pray, with thanksgiving. And
it’s here, I believe, that Paul’s letter from prison can have most impact for us today. For
in my own experience, and perhaps in yours too, it’s the regular practice of identifying
and acknowledging the gifts we receive each day, and then giving God thanks for them,
that has had the most transformative effect on my life: at the end of each day, giving
thanks for the love of family and friends; for those who have made a particular impact
on my life today; for those with whom we have shared the day at work or play; those
who have led by example; those who have placed themselves in harm’s way for our
health or security; or we thank God for glimpses of the beauty of creation, the sunlight
shining through the trees, the fall colours; and also for the love received from this
community; for the spirits raised by worshipping together; for the opportunities to sing
again; for the science that has made possible the development of vaccines to prevent
illness – smallpox, polio, malaria, and Covid-19; and we give thanks for all those who
have been vaccinated, to protect themselves and to reduce the risk of transmission to
others.
And if we make a regular practice of giving thanks, we soon discover that our lives are
transformed by gratitude. With a daily prayer practice of thanksgiving we find ourselves
looking for grace and beauty and goodness in the actions of others; and as we learn
through our prayer dialogue with God we begin to focus on what we truly value and we
become aware that there are many more positive things in the routine of our lives than
we may have realized. The worries become more manageable and more minor when
compared with the scale and number of the blessings for which we give thanks.
Paul starts his letter to the Philippians with “I thank my God every time I remember
you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you” – it is a prayer
of thanksgiving and joy. It is not joy that makes Paul grateful; it is gratitude that makes
Paul joyful. And, as Paul thanks God “every time I remember you”, the Philippian
church, so I would suggest that today, Thanksgiving Sunday, we give thanks to God for
this community of faith, St. David’s, which for the 64 years has been a beacon of light
on the corner of Taylor Way and the highway, in the neighbourhood in which we are
located and which we serve.
So, as now we listen to Ashton’s musical offering, let us each take a few moments to
“count our blessings” – for the love experienced in this community – love of God, love of
neighbor and love of one another; and for the blessing that is expressed in the diversity
of ages, cultures and situations, that so enrich our lives together; and we give thanks to
God for the gifts we see in those we meet here and those we know as friends in Christ.
And we will give thanks joyfully, knowing that “the peace of God, which surpasses all
understanding, will guard [y]our hearts and [y]our minds in Christ Jesus.” (4:7).
And so I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving. May we all experience peace and joy in
“saying thank you.”
Amen.
October 10th, 2021