I am so grateful for the Thanksgiving holiday. It provides a much-needed break in the relentless pace of the calendar. Thanksgiving gives us a chance to rest and recollect. It encourages gathering – loved ones, yes, but also to gather together moments and memories of gratitude. My annual litany of thanksgiving gets longer each year; partly because I am older and have more opportunities for gratitude, but also because my relationships with family and friends grow deeper, and become even more treasured. There seem to be more moments when my cup overflows.
What is a surprising, yet welcome intrusion to my list of thanks this year is not an affirmation, but a rejection. It is recorded in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. Immediately after Jesus’ baptism, which marks the beginning of his ministry, Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilderness where he fasts for forty days. At the moment of his greatest vulnerability the devil (also identified as the tempter) leads him up to a very high mountain and tries to cut a deal: he will give Jesus authority to rule as far as the eye can see, if Jesus will fall down and worship him.
Jesus says no.
I treasure Jesus’ rejection of the world’s power, which can be cruel and capricious, and is always fleeting. I give thanks for Jesus’ refusal to give in to the temptation to dominate. And in my gratitude I have come to realize that Jesus’ “no” emerges directly from a profound and powerful “yes”– a yes to hope, to love, to mercy, to the work of the soul.
The yes came first. By the world’s measure Jesus’ yes was – and is, no match to the power that the world can wield. Yet he carried that yes for three years, and held onto it even when – and perhaps especially when, the grotesque power of the world nailed him to a cross, violently marking the end of his earthly ministry.
He died, yes, but in faith Christians say he came back to life. New life. New hope, with a love that can’t be destroyed. I give thanks for that. I am spiritually and emotionally embedded in that faith.
As America transitions from the election to the Inauguration, a span of seventy-six days, a sizable portion of people in the country feel as though they have been thrust into the wilderness. Disoriented, fearful. Some feel traumatized. So many are feeling vulnerable, if not for themselves, then for people who have been threatened or targeted.
As the new administration unfolds, there may be moments and/or situations when many of us will feel called to say no. And to figure how we can do that most effectively. The details of the response will depend on circumstances, to be sure, but I am becoming increasingly clear that any and all responses need to involve the protection of the most vulnerable and a commitment to witnessing to truth. And – I think this is most important – that any no will need to emerge from an abiding yes. A yes to faith, a yes to the promise of America. A yes to democracy. A yes to supporting the vulnerable, who are an integral part of the human family
The freedom to claim that yes is worth fighting to keep, and a treasure for which we can give thanks. After Jesus said no, Matthew’s Gospel reports that the angels tended to Jesus. (Matthew 4:11) In this unique season we will all need to appeal to the better angels of our nature and do some tending.
Happy Thanksgiving.
