Why we should be thankful
Drop in on a worship service in any number of America’s churches, and you’ll hear prayers of confession as people regret their sins, you’ll hear prayers expressing concern for all sorts of issues worrying people, and then you will hear something very different, prayers of thanksgiving, prayers appreciative of all the good surrounding us.
Societies as a whole — operating in secular mode — do something very much like this, and we Americans seem especially adept at the fault-finding, confessing part and the identification of things amiss: big things, small things, all kinds of things. We’re less practiced, it seems to me, at thanksgiving, without which life could become one great, big mournful cry that never finds adequate spirit for seeking out its best possibilities.
Few can doubt that confession is important. Worshippers focus on what they have done wrong or left undone, repent and seek loving strength in forgiveness, aiming to avoid hurtful ways in the future. Similarly a society can begin to purge the worst of its transgressions by admitting them, and can begin to map out means of improvement by also recognizing and dealing with other non-moral matters intervening in the pursuit of happiness. Ignore what’s bad, and it can destroy you.
But defeat and worse also await those who fail to show gratitude for all that is right and wonderful in their lives and in this special nation of ours — our liberty, our material bounty, our unexcelled opportunities, our science, our technology, our generosity as a people, the talents of our neighbors, the kindness we so often encounter, the natural splendor of our land, the humor that bubbles up constantly, our peaceful elections, accomplished institutions of all kinds, traditions that guide us in productive directions, a dramatic lessening of much that used to afflict us, and so much more.
Even in the worst of times — no, especially in the worst of times — appreciation of our blessings is critical. Abraham Lincoln’s 1863 Thanksgiving proclamation came during the Civil War, the most bloody, awful years in American history, and so why, one might wonder, was he talking about “fruitful fields and healthful skies,” about law and order being maintained during the conflict, about a growing population, enlargements of settlements and other “gracious gifts of the Most High God?”
An answer is that by doing so he was helping to keep people from losing themselves in contemplation of nothing but the painful, to balance the frightening with the hopeful, to derive power from the positive, to push ahead.
It may well be that the United States is now facing one of the toughest economic periods we have know for a while. But I am convinced that we will best deal with the situation if we simultaneously are thankful for various protections already in place, for the great capacities of a people who keep their freedom and for an economic system that, whatever its faults, has granted us a standard of living undreamt of by past generations and yet to come the way of vast portions of the world. Nothing that hits us will destroy all that, and granting as much will help us recover.
Like the Thanksgivings before it, this coming Thanksgiving will itself be something to be grateful for if we really do turn our attention to the marvels of our time, our place, our lives, for here lies rejuvenation, a source of energy and inspiration. Facing reality matters, but does not mean just facing what’s worrisome, but what’s encouraging.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
Examiner Columnist Jay Ambrose is a former Washington opinion writer and editor of two dailies. He can be reached at [email protected].
