Christmas is a time for us to exercise our generosity, and calls on our willingness to give are never greater than at this time of the year. Presents for family and friends, charity collections throughout December, appeals on television, appeals in church, all ask us to dig deep into our pockets and our purses. And we do. Whatever the motivation - concern for others, guilt at our own good fortune, or probably a mixture of both, most of us do show the most incredible generosity at Christmas. And you’ll be glad to know that I’m not going to ask you to show any more. On the contrary. Today I want us to consider briefly the other side of the transaction. Not giving, but receiving. Today we will probably say ‘thank you’ more than we would in a month of ordinary days, and so it is a good time for us to reflect on the fact that there is an approach to spirituality which is based on nothing more complicated than those two simple words: ‘thank you’. According to the practitioners of this spiritual system, there’s no need for us to spend hours in meditation; no need to study incomprehensible theologians; no need to go to an ashram in India and sit at the feet of a guru; no need even to come to church. We just need to learn to be thankful. Meister Eckhart, the 13th century German mystic said, ‘If the only prayer you ever pray in your whole life is “thank you”, it is enough’.
Thank you for what?
For everything.
For the fact that we exist at all in this wondrous, curious, exciting world; for this stupendous gift of life – offered to us freely by God or by the universe - a gift which, as far as I am aware, we have done nothing to deserve.
To see life as a gift, to appreciate it as a gift, completely transforms our attitude, and affects profoundly every area of our existence. Greed, conflict, misery and mayhem spring from the petulant feeling that we are not getting what we think we deserve. Once we accept that we deserve nothing, but that we are nevertheless immersed in boundless generosity, then we are on the road to wholeness.
G.K. Chesterton, another exponent of gratitude spirituality, wrote a tiny poem which sums up this approach, and which I try to say silently to myself each night before falling asleep:

Here dies another day,
During which I have had eyes, ears, hands,
And the great world about me.
With tomorrow begins another.
Why am I allowed two?

‘Why am I allowed two?’ I calculated this very morning on a website called How Long Have I Lived? that I have lived 22, 478 days – 22, 478 days to be thankful for. Never mind, ‘Why am I allowed two?’ Why am I allowed 22, 478? And, if I go the full span – 3 score years and ten – that will be 25, 568!
We don’t come to an appreciation of the graced nature of existence automatically. I said earlier that we need to learn to be thankful; and we have to teach ourselves by regular practice; and if you want a sensible idea for a new year’s resolution, let it be that in the coming year you will turn your life around by learning to become grateful. What does it entail? Not much. Listen to this little passage from Annie Dillard:
When I was six or seven years old, growing up in Pittsburgh, I used to take a precious penny of my own and hide it for someone else to find. It was a curious compulsion; sadly, I’ve never been seized by it since. For some reason, I always hid the penny along the same stretch of sidewalk up the street. I would cradle it at the roots of a sycamore, say, or in a hole left by a chipped off piece of sidewalk. Then I would take a piece of chalk and, start ing at either end of the block, draw huge arrows leading up to the penny from both directions. After I learned to write, I labelled the arrows: ‘Surprise ahead!’ or ‘Money this way!’ I was greatly excited during all this arrow drawing at the thought of the first lucky passer-by, who would receive in this way – regardless of merit – a free gift from the universe. But I never lurked about. I would go straight home and not give the mat ter another thought until some months later I would be gripped again by the impulse to hide another penny. (Pilgrim at Tinker Creek)
Now, I’m not asking you to leave money lying around for people to pick up, although if you want to do it, then by all means do, but stage one in gratitude spirituality is viewing the world as a place of hidden surprises. Upon waking up, think to yourself, ‘What treasures has God hidden for me today? What delights does the world hold for me today?’ Brother David Steindel Rast says that we need to practise opening ourselves up to surprise, and he suggests that we provide ourselves with a little alarm clock in the shape of a question that we should ask ourselves at least twice every day. And the question is: ‘Isn’t that surprising?’ Whatever it may be. And your answer should always be, ‘Yes, indeed it is!’
In yesterday’s Observer (24th December, 2006), there was an interview with a chorister, a fourteen year-old boy, part of a series called ‘What I Know’, and part of what this lad knows is this: ‘I’ve a weird feeling when I look at myself or my reflection – how can that work? – that I exist, and am conscious of myself. And my limbs move when I want them to’
It is pretty weird. Have you not thought that yourself? Why is that possible? Isn’t that amazing? We do it all the time, and never really advert to it.
Of course, not all surprises will be immediately perceived as pleasant. In addition to the major calamities of life, every day has its minor inconveniences and setbacks. How can we be grateful for such things? Brother David says that, instead of the conventional ‘Oh, woe is me? Why is this happening to me?’ we should ask, ‘What’s my opportunity here?’, and there may be a variety of opportunities presented. Unfortunately, God’s pennies don’t have arrows leading up to them like Annie Dillard’s did. Sometimes they are buried in the most unlikely places. Sometimes we have to dig to find them. Sometimes we don’t appreciate their value until months, or even years, after their discovery.
Before you go to sleep – and this is stage two of the spirituality of gratitude – ask yourself, ‘What surprised me today? What have I got to be grateful for today?’ It could be the most trivial of things. Only last week, getting into bed on a cold night, I asked myself the question and realised that I should be grateful for the warm body of my wife Morag at my side, and the hot water bottle at my feet! Be grateful for such ordinary things. Be grateful for the fact that when you turn on the tap, hot water comes out! Can you imagine life without that?
Count your blessings, every day, just like the old song says. Keep a gratitude journal. Some people write down the things they feel they need to be thankful for, every day, or every week. ‘But,’ you might protest, ‘I don’t really think I believe in God!’ Why do you have to believe in God to do this? Thank Mother Nature; thank the Universe; thank your parents; thank your ancestors; thank the process of Evolution; like G.K. Chesterton in our reading this morning, thank Santa Claus. Invent a recipient of your thanks and call it ‘Uncle Cyril’ or ‘Aunt Jemima’ or something. You don’t need to have a metaphysical entity at the end of your thanks to make them effective. The object of these exercises is not to ingratiate ourselves with God. God does not need or desire our thanks. We need to be thankful, in order to counteract that sleepy, whinging, self-indulgent cynicism - which the Irish sum up in the word ‘begrudgery’ – which disconnects us from the world and from each other, and which contributes in no small way to the feelings of hopelessness and despair, which, sadly, are so prevalent, even in these days of relative comfort and prosperity.
Christmas is a wonderful and abiding metaphor for the grace filled nature of life, and there is no more appropriate time to commit ourselves to a consistently gracious and grateful response to it. When the whole of our lives becomes an expression of gratitude, a prayer of gratitude, as Meister Eckhart said, we are then playing our part in the transformation of the world. The effort is minimal. The benefits – I can assure you – are incalculable.
Amen,

and Happy Christmas to you all!

Rev.Bill Darlison Christmas Day 2006

This sermon was originally delivered in Dublin Unitarian Church on Christmas Day 2006.

It can be heard – along with 49 other Dublin sermons from a variety of preachers – on an MP3 CD called ‘Moments of Reflection’. It is available for £10 (or 15 euros, or $20), including postage, from:
Tony Brady, Dublin Unitarian Church, 112 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2. All proceeds go to the Dublin Church Restoration Fund.