A wave of death has hit our congregation recently. We said goodbye to several long time church members over the course of just a few weeks — and others are now on hospice care. I have been an associate pastor with this congregation for eight years, and the longer I’m one of their pastors, the harder these deaths hit me. These saints have been friends, ministry partners or simply familiar faces in worship. The grief is not as intense as it is for the deceased’s family members and long-time friends. Still, a low hum of sadness reverberates as I continue my pastoral work.
In the midst of this, my pastoral colleague group decided to engage in an exercise on gratitude. The curriculum includes reading and watching reflections on gratitude as well as naming 10 things for which I’m grateful every day for 21 consecutive days. I avoided getting started on this project, rationalizing that I was tired, stressed and busy. After all, when people die, regular life also goes on for pastors. Church programs still need planning and sermons still need writing, even as we pause to be present, to listen, to care and to pray for people in grief. Truthfully, I suspect I didn’t want to force myself to be grateful when I wasn’t feeling grateful.
This is the tension I’m feeling, even as I force myself to name 10 blessings every day: We talk about “feeling grateful” or “being grateful,” but is it possible to practice gratitude when the feelings aren’t there or when we don’t want to make gratitude a way of being? The obvious answer is, “Duh, of course!” It seems that every year or so, someone (an expert or a layperson) publishes a book or article (secular or religious) naming the benefits of gratitude: for our health, our psyche, our spirit. Gratitude is a long-standing spiritual practice in the Christian tradition. One need only look to the Psalms for inspiration and guidance. In fact, several years ago I benefited from a yearlong gratitude exercise similar to this 21-day assignment. I have a friend who survived a very dark period of her life by every night naming something for which she was grateful.
Yet, in my gut, this answer feels superficial. I think of the Monty Python song from “The Life of Brian” — “Always look on the bright side of life,” whistle the characters whilst they are crucified. When is gratitude in the midst of grief a Pollyanna avoidance of sadness and when is it spiritually beneficial?
Again, I know the obvious answer: Christian practices of gratitude frequently embrace the bad with the good. The Ignatian practice of the Examen is a great example. At the end of every day, one considers both moments of consolation and desolation (moments of gratitude and moments of grief) and chooses to see God in both. But sometimes I just want to be like Job: in despair and really angry with God.
But here’s the interesting thing: God’s response to Job is to name the beautiful complexity of creation and ask Job if he would like a turn at running the universe. It’s not a satisfying answer to the problem of suffering or the agony of grief. But, it isa call to pay attention — to really look at the world around us and see the beauty in the darkness, to notice God in all things. So, maybe that’s what gratitude is about: Gratitude is a lens through which we see things for what they are, in their grief-stricken, beautiful complexities.
I can’t say I’m totally satisfied by this answer. But, the gratitude assignment still stands, as well as my conviction that thanksgiving is an important spiritual practice. So this what I’m going to do for the next 21 days: name the grief, look for the beauty and notice God in it all — and be OK with the tension never being fully resolved. After all, we live in a world redeemed by Christ but not yet fully restored. Sin and redemption are intertwined in our complex world; otherwise the practice of gratitude would be much simpler. And maybe this is a gift for which I can be grateful.
RACHEL YOUNGis the associate pastor of spiritual formation at Clear Lake Presbyterian Church, in Houston, Texas. She is married to Josh, who also serves on staff at Clear Lake Presbyterian as the director of contemporary worship and media.
