1 Advent, Year C 2024: 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13

“‘Thank you’ is a theological statement. For those of us who profess to follow Jesus, those two seemingly simple words represent a public acknowledgement that all that we are and all that we have…are gifts. Each time we give thanks, we loosen our grasp, however slightly, on both the consuming need to be in control and the lingering anxiety that we are not.” So began the August 2021 special edition of the Anglican Theological Review, centered on gratitude. The first scripture referenced in that introduction is, fittingly from Paul’s first letter to the church in Thessalonica where, as part of his closing he urges the church to “rejoice always”, “pray without ceasing”, and to “give thanks in all circumstances.”

First Thessalonians is the oldest book in the New Testament. It is also Paul’s most positive message throughout the entire book. Paul usually begins and ends his letters with grace, giving thanks for the church to whom he is writing, and with hope, building them up to give them strength to continue following Christ Jesus. In the middle he offers problem solving, oftentimes with some tough love. In other letters we see Paul addressing abuses at the Lord’s Supper, divisions in the still emerging Church, and whether or not Gentile converts need to adopt Jewish practices. But we see none of that in First Thessalonians.

Even in the letters in which Paul is upset with the conduct of the people in various churches, he always begins and ends in thanks. For Paul, thanksgiving, like joy and love, is not a transitory feeling. It is a state of being. It is a way in which we worship the Lord. We practice that in the church with our celebration of the Eucharist. You might have noticed that at the beginning of the Liturgy of the Table, there is the heading “The Great Thanksgiving”. The word Eucharist is a transliteration of the Greek eucharistos, which means “gratitude”. The words of institution - where the priest says, “for on the night on which he was betrayed, our Lord Jesus Christ took bread, etc” are largely based on Paul’s words from First Corinthians.

During Christmas of 2023, Don, a parishioner in the church I served, sent out a Christmas letter meditating on Paul’s use of “rejoice” in his letter to the Philippians. While that seems like an appropriate theme for a Christmas card, what was striking about it was that five months before he wrote that card, Don had been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer and given six months to live. He began the card with his dry sense of humor in writing, “Perhaps this Christmas card will seem startlingly inappropriate coming from a man who has been given less than six months to live.” Then he shared how the word “rejoice” entered his consciousness one day in a powerful way and he began reflecting on it. On why a dying man would rejoice. And that the word shone so brightly in his mind that he allowed it to stay there, to “take up residence”, and to search out Paul’s use of the word in the letter written from his prison cell - a letter which he begins by giving thanks for those to whom he is writing.

Don came to a conclusion that helps us when we have the same question about thanks as we often have about joy. To quote Don, “Paul urges us to rejoice in every situation. Does he really mean every situation? He seems to indicate rejoicing is the key to much of what we long for in the spiritual life, such as freedom from anxiety, answered prayer, and the peace of God that passes all understanding. Further, he said: ‘The Lord is near.’ This is why we can rejoice. Jesus is closer to us than we are to ourselves.” 

While I was looking through my papers for that Christmas letter, I found something else that I kept: a selection of Thank you notes I had received. Two for funerals I had done where I felt I had really connected with the family and the deceased whom I only met through those who knew and loved them, and one from a parishioner, who has since died, thanking me for visiting his dying wife. And the last was from a parishioner thanking me for a beautiful Holy Week and Easter of services. And as I read those cards again, it reminded me of the variety of ways we practice gratitude in our lives. In which we live thanksgiving. How in our times of happiness we give thanks for those who contribute to that happiness. In our times of trouble, of suffering, of sadness, we give thanks for those who help us carry our burdens and lighten our loads.

As I read that first letter to the Thessalonians, I’m reminded of how persecutions of the early church had a bit of a backfiring effect. Because even when each persecution ended, they never knew when the next one might start up. Kind of like Catholics and Protestants in England post Henry VIII, they never knew when the next monarch might switch which side would be the safe one, in first century Christianity, they never knew when the emperor would be overthrown, die, or be assassinated, so it was never entirely safe to be a Christian. But because of that uncertainty, it was hard to be a casual Christian. They had to be all in, because they never knew when it would become unsafe to be a Christian. I remember when I read Paul’s comment, “Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you face to face and restore whatever is lacking in your faith,” that Paul is not criticizing their having not enough faith. He is reminding this community how they, and we, are called to a different kind of life in Christ together, relying on one another to build each other up and restore whatever needs building up in our faith.

As we enter this Advent season, we are reminded that Jesus is always closer to us than we are to ourselves. As we practice waiting for the celebration of the incarnation, we can do so in that state of thankfulness, joy, and love. Amen.