Humbled Yet Thankful

Jesu Juva

Deuteronomy 8:1-10                                                    

November 24, 2022

Thanksgiving Day                                          

Dear saints of our Savior~

          A very blessed Thanksgiving to each and every one of you—especially to those of you who have been planning and prepping for this day.  Where would we be on Thanksgiving without planning?  Someone has to create a menu, make a grocery list, fight the crowds at Sendiks—stuff the bird, select the wine, stoke the fire, peel the potatoes.  As someone once said, “Failing to plan . . . is just planning to fail.”

          Most of us are actually pretty good at planning.  We do it all the time.  We plot and plan and scheme.  We strategize and prioritize.  We visioncast and forecast.  We make our predictions, our projections, and our calculations.  Sometimes all we can do is guess or ballpark it.  But nobody faces the future better.  Like all good Wisconsinites, our motto—our slogan—is simply Forward!  (Or, at least, Keep ‘er movin’!)

          Planning is good; but if all you do is plan, you’ll never be thankful.  If your focus is only forward, you will never thank the Lord and sing His praise.  If you want to come into His presence with thanksgiving, then you need to hear the history.  You need to check the rearview mirror.  You need to pause and ponder the past.  To be truly thankful, you need to remember to remember.  Thanksgiving can only sprout from the plowed-up soil of the past.

          In today’s Old Testament reading, Israel was about to move forward—onward and upward—into a de-luxe land of plenty:  wheat and barley, figs and pomegranates, milk and honey.  After forty years of waiting, nobody was more prepared to move forward in finer fashion than that crew of Hebrews.  But as they loaded up their U-hauls, Moses had a message:

          Remember . . . Remember how the Lord led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart. . . . He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna. . . . Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the Lord your God disciplines you.  Remember to remember.

          Of course, remembering is risky business.  It’s not for the faint of heart.  Because right alongside all those rosy remembrances, there’s also a more harrowing history—a history of rebellion against God, of disregard for His commandments, of faithlessness in the face of trials and troubles.  The people Moses was preaching to had some scary stuff to remember.  There was the idolatry of the golden calf, grumbling about the manna, murmuring against Moses, fire and snakes and plagues from the hand of the Lord.  Everybody likes to remember the good old days; but in, with and under those days . . . are deeds—deeds that are not so good—sins that stain our history.

          Now, this is a day for giving thanks, not remembering.  But Moses is teaching us that, in order to be thankful, we must first remember.  And this remembering is not always pleasant.  For we each have our own harrowing history.  Not everyone here this morning has forty years in the desert to unpack; while others of us are well past that point.  But if you’re going to be thankful—if you’re going to bless the Lord and praise the Lord—then you need to remember.  Remember when, like Israel, you were humbled, tested, and disciplined.

          Remember when you woke up face down in a sinful mess of your own making—when you put pleasure ahead of principle, and tested the boundaries to see just how far you could wander from home.  Remember your faithless fear when you were flat on your back and the surgeon was sharpening his scalpel, and you were terrified.  Remember the times you grumbled against the Lord—when you cursed His holy name for taking away from you that which you loved—or for how the Lord humbled you the hard way—publicly—in full view of everyone.  Do you remember?

          Because if you do remember that unholy history, then you cannot help but see traces of grace in that history of horrors.  For here you are on this Thanksgiving Day in the year of our Lord 2022.  You are the living proof that our Lord does not treat us as our sins deserve.  When you’ve been faithless, He’s been faithful.  When you have fled from Him, He has not ceased to follow you all the days of your life.  When you have not remembered—when you have forgotten the Lord in times of plenty and prosperity—He has not forgotten you.  If you refuse to remember the bad, how can you be thankful for the great goodness of God?

          Today at some Thanksgiving tables it will be a requirement that everybody has to share something for which they are thankful.  There’s nothing wrong with that per se—nothing wrong with praising God for your pet or blessing Him for your BMW.  But that’s an attitude of gratitude that just won’t last.  It can’t.  It’s based on what’s here today and gone tomorrow.  Wouldn’t we be better served to go around the table and remember?  How God helped us in our time of trouble?  How He remembers no more the sins we can’t forget? How He used the surgeon and the pastor to bring health and healing for both body and soul?  Such remembering gives us reasons for real, honest thanksgiving.

          The Israelites had miracles to help them remember.  When they looked back, they saw divine displays of supernatural power . . . and so do we.  No, we haven’t walked through the Red Sea on dry ground; but we have been born again in the cleansing waters of Holy Baptism—named and claimed as God’s own children.  That’s worth remembering.  No, we haven’t been fed with manna from heaven; but we have been fed with the precious body and blood of our Lord in His Holy Supper, for the forgiveness of our sins.  That’s worth remembering.  No, we haven’t been rescued from a life of slavery under Pharaoh; but we have been rescued from the power sin, death and hell by Jesus Christ the Son of God, who loved you and who gave Himself for you—who bore your sins in His crucified body, and who gives you His own righteousness.  That’s worth remembering.  No, we haven’t been led each day by a pillar of cloud and each night by a pillar of fire; but the Risen Christ does come among us as we are gathered in His name to forgive us, renew us, and lead us (and love us).  This is worth remembering.  This is every reason for praise and thanksgiving.

          Moses’s words about remembering the Lord came at a unique time in Israel’s history.  It was the end of one era and the beginning of another.  The wilderness was behind them and the Promised Land was before them.  Even as they listened to old Moses, they were looking ahead in hope: No more wandering in the wilderness.  Home was on the horizon.  What God had promised so long ago was now becoming a reality.

          That’s also where we find ourselves on this Thanksgiving Day.  For as surely as Joshua led God’s people into the Land of Promise, so a new and better “Joshua” is leading us home.  Jesus is our Joshua.  He has gone before us in a battle to the death, and has emerged triumphant and resurrected on the other side of the Jordan.  Our thanks this day is

not only based on remembering things that have already happened, but also on remembering things that will happen—things that Jesus promises for all who trust in Him: namely, the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.  We look back and see grace; we look forward and see a sure and certain hope.  And all this is every reason to pray, praise, and give thanks.   In the name . . .