Thanksgiving--it's all true

Somewhere among the short stories of Stanley Elkin, who's now long gone and knows the truth about what he's found, there's a fabulous little yarn with a sharp turn I've never forgotten, even though anything else I've read of his is part of those unkempt memories that are as much a sorry mess as my desk.

There's this guy sauntering through life like the rest of us, when suddenly he falls into some kind of death chute or something, and turns up at what amounts to a literary pearly gates. He's dead, and right there at a point where Saint Peter directs him down a path he shan't like. 

He isn't greatly taken with the appointed direction and, in fine Jewish fashion, bellyaches. "What's the deal?" the guy says (Elkin dealt in sassy satire). 

Whoever is standing at the gate rubs his beard, blows his nose maybe, and then, almost without regard, tells the pilgrim, "The Sabbath," he says, looking down at the manifest, "--you didn't keep the Sabbath." And then, looking up, "Next."

I've never forgotten that moment because as a child of devout parents I'm always wondering if, well, perhaps they were right about all things religious. Perhaps it was naughty to swim on Sunday or to dance. Perhaps gambling will toss you to eternal perdition. What if women-in-ecclesiastical office or being a member of the Democratic party is actually enough to land you in the fire and brimstone? What if all those little rules are the big ones? 

Sometimes, of course, they are. I hate to "prooftext," and in this case I don't think I have to. But how about this: "That my glory may sing your praise and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever" (Psalm 30:12). Need I go on? I don't think so.

But one more. This one from Garrison Keillor, that defrocked story-teller whose single line has graced the top of a blog I've kept for ten years, a line from a Christian Century interview I'm 25 years ago: "we'd all be better off it we all started the day by giving thanks for just one thing."  

I have two things to say about that Prairie Home proverb: 1) It's true; and 2) It's hard.

A year before I began blogging, I determined to take the Keillor challenge: every morning, type up a paragraph that determinedly "gave thanks" for something--anything, soup to nuts, memorable events, my beloved(s).  So I did. And (here's where I need a notary public), I honestly think it worked--it made smile more, made me a better person. 

As my Richard Foster would say, you made good faith a discipline in your life, Jim--that's why it worked. You were blessed by making real Godly virtue a practice. 

Ten years later, in the blog that developed out of that practice, I only occasionally go back to willful thanksgiving. Sometimes, "my Morning Thanks" just fits, sometimes I begin by telling myself it's time to get back to where all of this began. Sometimes Mr. Keillor's words are a stringing reminder to get back to virtue.

I'd like to say I lost my way when the bully Trump came along, but in truth the Prince of Orange makes a convenient scapegoat.

This morning is Thanksgiving. Our Oklahoma children are here, and they've taken with them that almost divine granddaughter who, everyone admits, is quite honestly the most beautiful child anywhere south of here. North too maybe. No, for sure. 

And our Iowa kids will be here, too, soon enough. The turkey's done. So are the sweet potatoes and the beans and cranberries, so my wife only has to worry about the gravy, which is the province of her daughter. Pies are coming. Table's spread. Fireplace is on. Soft music is coming up from down here in the basement. 

We're ready for thanksgiving. Today, for sure, we'll practice it. Tomorrow maybe too. Even Saturday.

But next week, we'll have to work at it, try, once more, to make it a Richard Foster-like discipline, to keep it up, as the Bible commands.

I don't know about women-in-ecclesiastical office, or dancing, or gambling, or being a Democrat. But I believe this: it's all true about Thanksgiving. All of it. All of this:  "The Lord is my strength and my shield; My heart trusts in Him, and I am helped; Therefore my heart exults, And with my song I shall thank Him" (Psalm 30:12).

What I'm thinking and saying is, it's all true--that's the good news. But the tough stuff is, I've got to work at it to make it so.