Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Eve, Augustana Lutheran Church, Moscow, Idaho

Thanksgiving Day, Our Savior Lutheran Church, Bingen, Washington

Nov. 27 & 28, 2019

Text: Phil. 4:6-20

            “(D)o not be anxious about anything” (Phil. 4:6; ESV).  That’s a tall order.  There are plenty of things in our lives and in our world that are cause for anxiety.  There is no need for a complete listing, but just look at the mess in D.C. and think about the anxiety we all feel about the stability of our nation.  Just watching the evening news or perusing your friends’ Facebook posts can cause anxiety.  There are your loved ones, people for whom you care deeply, and you worry about mistakes they may be making or suffering they may be enduring.  Depending on your stage in life, you worry about your kids, you worry about your parents, you worry about your friends, you worry about everybody getting along around the Thanksgiving dinner table.  And you worry about you.  Your marriage, the bills, your image, your job, your weight, your health, why you just can’t be happy with all the blessings you’ve been given.  And then there is the big one.  You may not even recognize it, though it is the elephant in the room, but you subconsciously push it out of view because it is the most worrisome of all, the ugliest, most horrendous truth.  Your guilt.  Your sin.  You may not put it in those terms, but you should, because that is the problem.  Those feelings of not measuring up, always falling short, not being good enough, always having to justify yourself, paint yourself as one who has it all together, all figured out, intelligent, cool, and humble(!), righteously angry at all the right things, holding all the right opinions, knowing deep down that it is all a farce.  You really do fall short.  Far short… of the glory of God (Rom. 323).  Which is to say, you are guilty.  You are a sinner.

            But “do not be anxious,” Paul says.  Great.  Thanks.  It may be helpful to know, though, that Paul writes these words from a prison cell, and he doesn’t know at this point if he will escape with his life.  And he has been carrying with him all these years the memory of dragging Christians from their homes, separating mothers from their children, husbands from their wives, mocking and cursing and spitting upon them, condemning them to death, even nodding with approval and guarding the jackets of those hurling stones at a preacher named Stephen.  That is real guilt.  “Chief of sinners,” Paul called himself, and he meant it (1 Tim. 1:15).

            But he also knew the secret of facing anxiety and guilt head on.  Jesus.  Christ has died.  Christ is risen.  Christ will come again.  And all for Paul.  All for you.  So you see, the chains of captivity can only bind Paul’s flesh for a time, quite temporarily.  But no one, and nothing, can rob Paul of his freedom in Christ.  It is quite possible that Paul made it out of prison in this particular instance, but that wouldn’t always be the case.  Very soon, he would feel the cold of flashing steel sever his head from his body for the sake of Christ and of the Gospel.  But not even Emperor Nero could rob him of his life.  Dying, he lives.  Because Jesus, who died for Paul, lives.  And Paul is baptized into Christ.  And his sins, his guilt, his persecution of Christians, his falling far short of the glory of God?  All of that died with Christ, covered by His blood, buried in His tomb, never to be raised.  Jesus emerges from the tomb having conquered sin forever.  So Paul means it when he says, “do not be anxious.”  About anything.  You don’t have to be.  Because… Jesus.  Jesus died to undo all that is wrong and bad.  Jesus is risen to make all things new and right.  Your sins are forgiven.  You have eternal life.  And it is in that hope and joy that you arise to meet a new day to live and breathe and love and serve in Christ, who is your life. 

            But what do you do about all the real things that bother you and cause you real anxiety?  Fine, Christ died for them, and yes, Christ is risen, but what does that mean about those things?  Hear the rest of Paul’s sentence: “but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God” (Phil. 4:6).  For you see, in Christ, who died for your sins; in Christ, who is risen and gives you His life and righteousness; in Christ, who covers you in Baptism, clothes you with Himself, and feeds you with Himself so that He is in you and His very blood courses through your veins; in Christ, you are a child of God.  You have a heavenly Father who loves you and actually says to you that you always have His ear, that you can tell Him anything, ask Him anything, and He will always hear you, and always answer you, for your good, as He knows best.  So the doings in Washington and on the world stage?  Commend that to God who reigns over all things in heaven.  Pray for your leaders and your fellow citizens.  Your loved ones over whom you worry?  Does your worry help them?  Of course not.  But prayer does.  Make supplication for them before the Father in the Name of Jesus Christ.  He loves them even more than you do.  You love them best when you love them in Him and commend them to Him.  And you.  Your sins are forgiven.  That is to say, all that separates you from God has been done away with.  If God so loves you that He gave His only-begotten Son into death to give you life and make you His own, how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give you all things?  He’ll help you.  In everything.  Pray.  For your marriage.  For your bills.  For your boss and your coworkers and your performance on the job.  For your health.  For your well-being.  Let Him take care of it.  Let Him take care of you.  He is faithful.  He will never fail you. 

            Which brings us to Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving is an exercise of faith, over against anxiety, which is an exercise in unbelief.  Thanksgiving recognizes that every good thing, every good and perfect gift, comes down from above, from the Father of lights (James 1:17).  Anxiety is the lie that tries to convince you God will suddenly stop caring and helping.  To give thanks is to acknowledge to the person you are thanking the good that they have done for you.  To give thanks to God is to recognize and acknowledge that He is for you and not against you, that He has redeemed you and loves you, protects you and provides for you, that you belong to Him.  It is to hear and cherish His every Word and gather around His Thanksgiving Table (His Eucharist Table, for eucharist simply means thanksgiving) and commune with Him, as families do.  It is to stare every one of those evil things that cause anxiety in the face with all the confidence of one who knows not a one of them can harm you.  Not ultimately.  Because of Jesus.  “For I am sure,” writes Paul in another place, “that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:38-39).

            Well, I’ve had this issue with the Missouri Synod Lectionary Committee my whole ministry long, and you might even say it causes me some anxiety: Why on earth did they start this Epistle reading for Thanksgiving Day with v. 6 and leave out the previous two verses?  I’ll never understand it, but I’ll pray for them with supplication and even thanksgiving.  But in a grand display of liturgical rebellion and Christian freedom, I’m going to give you now vv. 4 and 5: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.  Let your reasonableness be known to everyone.  The Lord is at hand” (Phil. 4:4-5).  That is the other thing that frees you from anxiety and enables you to give thanks: The Lord is at hand.  Jesus is coming back.  To raise you and all the dead.  To give eternal life to you and all believers in Christ.  To make all things new.  If that is the case (and it is), you can rejoice always.  Again, I will say, rejoice.  And you can display your reasonableness, or perhaps better translated, your forbearing spirit, your patient or yielding gentleness, to all.  You can receive every cross and tribulation in faith, with thanksgiving even, commending it to God, who you know will hear and answer.  And here is the Promise: “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (v. 7).  He will guard you, keep you, until that Day when Jesus comes again in glory and presents you, risen and living, before the Father, who will wipe away every tear from your eyes (Rev. 21:4).

            Beloved in the Lord, this Thanksgiving Day, rejoice.  Always.  Give thanks.  Feast and sing.  Do not give in to those things the evil one uses to cause you anxiety and lead you to unbelief and despair.  Keep your eyes on Jesus.  And think of those things that are His… whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just and pure and lovely and commendable (Phil. 4:8).  Follow Paul’s example.  Rest in the forgiveness of sins and the washing away of your guilt.  Entrust everything to God in prayer.  Even if you find yourself in chains.  Because… Jesus.  He will supply every need of yours (v. 19).  He will give you perfect peace (v. 7).  Let us go now to His Thanksgiving Feast, the Eucharist of His body and blood.  Whatever else you do or don’t do to celebrate the day, this is the real thing.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.