Going Through the Motions

sermon by Carrie Eikler
Luke 17:11-19 Deuteronomy 8:7-18


It begins. The holiday season. If we’re honest, it seems like it begins closer to Halloween than Thanksgiving. The craziness, the planning, the eating…the overeating. The glossy pictures in the advertisements and the TV commercials all paint the picture of abundance, thankfulness, and happiness. At least, they all seem happy and satisfied… for the going rate of whatever they’re selling.

But the big bucks in advertising come not from portraying reality, but by selling an image. Generally if you’ve had anything to do with preparing the Thanksgiving extravaganza your reality may be more like this: flopping down in your chair at the dinner table, not with the healthy glow of holiday spirit, but the glow of anxious perspiration, which just a hint of flour at your hairline. You’re just grateful to get the bird on the table, praying that it’s cooked enough but not too much, hoping you’ve made enough rolls for the company, that the vegetarians around the table are properly satisfied and your niece who is lactose intolerant enjoys the soy-milk gravy…

Our gratitude at this time is having accomplished the first feat of laying out the feast. And just when you think you can breathe and say grace, in comes the next round of anxiety: hopes that Great-Uncle Milton doesn’t bring up that embarrassing and offensive story he always seems to conjure up; praying not for the food, but that the baby won’t throw his food at the aunt that really doesn’t like children; and hoping beyond hope that the topics of politics, religion, and cousin Brandon’s newest tattoo doesn’t churn up too much trouble. And when the pumpkin pie is being served…it’s time to start thinking of the dishes.

Now some of you have never had to deal with this, and honestly since I’ve never hosted Thanksgiving dinner, my anxiety has been relatively manageable. But if you are anything like me, my level of gratitude around the Thanksgiving feast isn’t at its peak as we gather around the table, preparing to take a Norman Rockwell-esque pose, and give thanks in prayer. Generally my favorite time, when I feel most grateful and satisfied and genuinely feeling thankful for what I have received is after the meal. It is at this time that I curl up on the couch in a warm haze and invite in the effects of tripdephene (that lovely chemical in poultry that inevitably makes one sleepy). I drift away, listening to the murmurings of conversation, the other satisfied snores, or even the shouts from the other room as family members huddle around football game.

It is easy to see that when it comes to Thanksgiving and the upcoming Christmas holidays, there is a lot of lip-service to what we see as essential—gratitude. We say we should be thankful for this, and grateful for that. But it too often seems like it’s just that…just words. It is easy to go through the motions. How many of you have heard the same Thanksgiving prayer year after year given by the patriarch or matriarch of the family? How many of you force smiles and put on the image that all is well in your lives because no one likes a downer at the holidays? How many of you simply go through the motions. Let me be the first to put my hand up.

I think giving our thanks to God is a lot like my post-feast cozy snooze on the couch. It’s not until we feel we have received something that we feel the most grateful. When our bellies are filled we are grateful for food. When the paycheck is in our hand, we are grateful for work. When our spouses and partners give us a token of their affection, we are grateful for love. When we feel inspired by worship, we are grateful for church. And when we have acquired the minimum amount of happiness that we feel we deserve, then…then, we are grateful to God.

If we don’t feel we have actually received these things, we still know we should be thankful for what we do have. But doesn’t it feel more like an obligation of response, or a duty? Ultimately, cultivating what is often known as “an attitude of gratitude” would be the ideal choice. That in everything, every moment, with every breath we are thankful. Cicero, the Roman philosopher said that “Gratitude is not only the greatest virtues, but the parent of all others.”

I think a spiritual practice of cultivating gratitude is needed by all of us, and I think it is very difficult to attain. I think it would be pleasing to God if we had this “attitude of gratitude” with each breath. But we must also be honest with ourselves…it will take a lot of spiritual work to get there, and we may fail tragically along the way. But even the act of turning around after the fact, finds blessing with God.

In our gospel story today, we are told of ten lepers who are healed by Jesus. While it doesn’t say what they did when they recognized that they were healed, we might imagine that they all go dancing, or running, or skipping on their way, somehow living in the excitement of their cleansing. Now I’m sure these ten were all grateful. I’m sure they sang praises this way and that, giving thanks into the wind, acknowledging the gift they had been blessed with. But only one turned back.

This one turned back and praised God with a loud voice. This one turned back and laid himself at Jesus’ feet. This one turned back and thanked him. This one turned back and he was a Samaritan, a foreigner, an outsider.

Maybe the first thing needed to stop us from simply going through the motions of bland thanksgiving, is to find different motions to go through. Stop. Turn back. Go to the source of our healing and our blessings.

Changing our motion requires recognizing what motion we are currently in. In Deuteronomy, Moses is talking to the Hebrew people, who like the ten lepers, were on the straight away right out of the horrible situation into a new life. Out of slavery and into promise and abundance. But as Moses reminds the Hebrew people, and the lone healed leper reminds us, moving ahead has its consequences.

Some of us are in the motion of moving upward. Our careers have taken off, or a relationship has bloomed, or our ten-year post graduation plan has been falling into place. We look to the bright future thankful that we are where we are. But we are not living in gratitude for what has blessed us along the way, propelling us into this bright future. In spite of economic downturns, things feel successful and if we keep looking up, nothing will knock us down.

But then Moses says, don’t think you did it all yourself. Jesus says, don’t think salvation will come by feeling secure. Stop, and remember who brought you out of Egypt. Turn around and remember who cleansed you. Run back and embrace who it is holding you in prayer as you go.

Maybe the motion you are in is the opposite of moving up, but more like running in circles, or worse, a downward spiral. Things aren’t getting better, they’re stagnating, or getting worse. One of the lessons I’ve kept with me from my one year of ballet as a child is when you’re spinning around in a pirouette, it is important to find a place on the wall in front of you, and while you whip your head around, bring it back to that point to keep you steady. When things feel out of our control we can easily give up all joy and perspective. We forget to return to a steady focus.

But then Moses says, stick with each other because we will get to the bountiful land. Jesus says, it is for the desperate that I bring hope. Stop, and cry out to the one with power. Turn around to that strong point that stills your dizzy head. Orient your circles to the center and let it slow the spinning.

Or maybe your motion is in a straight line. No bumps, no turns, nothing unpleasant to note as long as we keep looking ahead and not at the world around us. We can feel good as long as we shield ourselves from the cry of those in need, or the images that unsettle us. We have put a lot of work into getting where we are, and if others can’t do the same, then that’s their problem. It’s time we had the easy road. We may each think, “As long as I’m ok, everything else doesn’t matter. I’m just grateful I’m not like the rest of those people.”

This straight line is what it means to sustain the status quo.

And Moses says to us, “who do you think you are? How can you forget the cries?” Jesus says, “salvation was rejected by all those except the outsider.” Stop, and remember that you are in a caravan with others. Turn around and follow that line back to the one who loves you in spite of arrogance. Run back and embrace the one who can heal you of your blindness.


We are all in some sort of perpetual motion, but the first step to gratitude—to genuine thankfulness—requires another motion. And generally, we can find that it begins with us stopping. That’s what we miss if we rush through the prayer at the beginning of our meal, if we rush through the silence spaces of a worship service, if we rush through the boundless moments of awe and beauty in life. And probably if we stop, we can recognize that we aren’t oriented towards the one who deserves our thanks. Instead, we find that we are oriented to the things that feed our own ego, convincing us we are the ones who deserve all the thanks and the glory.

As this season of thankfulness approaches, perhaps the greatest gift you can give yourselves, is to find the motion you are in--upward climbs, downward spirals, straight lines, or something else. Once you’ve figured it out, ask God to help orient your motion back to the Source of life.
Going through the motions doesn’t have to be the extent of our gratitude. Rather, living in constant motion back to God, can sow the seeds of gratitude that can bring our salvation.