A Reflection for Thanksgiving Day
Find today’s readings here.
“Ten were cleansed, were they not?
Where are the other nine?
Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” (Lk 17:17-18).
One thing that I have grown to love about living in New York City is the little studio apartment I’ve rented for the past four years. My bed, couch and bookcase fit snugly against one wall, facing a kitchenette, desk and the doors to the bathroom and a closet. Some of the benefits of the setup are obvious: I can give this whole place a pretty deep clean in 30 minutes, and anything I need is 10 steps away, tops.
But I also appreciate how it puts a natural cap on how much I can accumulate. I have not read Marie Kondo, but the limitations of my environment naturally push me to only hang on to necessities and to things that, as the minimalist guru counsels, “spark joy.” (Though I don’t want to oversell it: The boxes under my bed burst with clothes and cosmetics, stationery and a sewing kit that haven’t been examined for their joy-sparking potential in years.)
For Christians, joy is the result of gratitude, the realization that it is all a gift. And most of the time, I am profoundly grateful for my little home and the objects that fill it. (Again, don’t want to oversell it; this is New York, after all: I am less grateful for the mouse living under the mini fridge.)
You’ve probably heard hundreds of times that there are those who see “the glass half empty” and those who see “the glass half full.” I’ve never really liked this comparison. It tends to be used by people who are naturally more optimistic to shame the pessimists or realists for not sharing their sunny disposition.
I think it’s better to ask: How big is your glass? What looks like a half empty pint glass would overflow a teacup. And we can actually control the size of our glass.
The size of my apartment is small not because I am virtuous but because, you might have heard, the rent is too dam…quite high. The constraints, however, have made it easier for my glass to overflow. When you read this, I will, God willing, be in Northern Virginia with my family for Thanksgiving. Things that I took for granted in an earlier life now fill me with gratitude: Counterspace! Double sinks and a dishwasher! Trips to Costco!
Today’s Gospel reading gives us a sense of what it would look like to have a “small glass” when it comes to our relationship with God. Traveling through Samaria and Galilee, Jesus meets 10 lepers.
They stood at a distance from him and raised their voices, saying,
“Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!”
And when he saw them, he said,
“Go show yourselves to the priests.”
As they made their way to the priests, all 10 lepers were cleansed. But only one, “realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.” And who was the one who returned? The Samaritan, the foreigner, the one who, even if he did not suffer from leprosy, would not expect any kindness from anyone, much less Jesus the Galilean. He did not expect much, and when he received the same healing grace from Jesus that the nine other lepers received, he was so overwhelmed with gratitude that he ran back to thank his healer.
This Thanksgiving, let us take nothing for granted. Let us thank the God who loved into being those we whole dear and those whose invisible work brings food to our tables. Let us thank God for exceeding all our expectations.
