Thankful for What

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As I contemplated Thanksgiving this year, I found myself singing a song my Les McCann and Eddie Harris (1969) Compared to What? It’s a jazzy protest song with graphic, oddly whimsical lyrics:

The President, he’s got his war
Folks don’t know just what it’s for
Nobody gives us rhyme or reason
Have one doubt, they call it treason
We’re chicken-feathers, all without one nut (I can’t use it!)
Tryin’ to make it real, compared to what.

It goes on, but you get the idea. Trying to make our experience vital and alive amidst “unreal values, crass distortion / Unwed mothers need abortion / Kind of brings to mind ‘ol young King Tut (He did it now) / Tried to make it real, compared to what?!”

As I said it goes on. And it’s a great song; kind of a syncopated protest song, lamenting the social and economic struggles of the mid-’60s when it was written. That period of civil unrest was difficult to live through, but—ironically—many folks look back on those years very fondly. Despite the strife, there was a lot happening and a lot to be thankful for. Just to begin with, the music! Not just Less McCann (one time member of the Berkeley Fellowship of UUs, by the way); Roberta Fleck also had a gold record with Compared to What and it has been recorded by over two hundred fifty others. There was other fabulous music, too, during those years: Motown, Reggae, the English Invasion, R&B… lots of great music. The beginnings of space exploration and the computer/software revolution also came out of that period. The Civil Rights and Voting Rights Acts were passed, plus the American with Disabilities Act, and Title IX protecting people from discrimination based on disability or gender. But at the time these struggles were playing out, no one knew how anything would turn out. In the words of Reggae musician Jimmy Cliff: we were all—and still are— “just sitting here in limbo….”

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That was years ago. More recently, it was nineteen months ago—March 8, 2020—when this church, along with the rest of the country, went into lockdown. We began immediately broadcasting our Sunday services and other events on Zoom. The Worship Team redesigned our program to be more child and family friendly and easier for newcomers unfamiliar with UU folkways to comfortably follow along. And we’ve done okay. Our attendance remained steady for fourteen months—through last spring! We made tentative plans to open again in September, until emergence of the Delta variant demanded putting back on the brakes. But now we are more assured that the timing is right for onsite activities again—beginning—if all goes as now planned—on January 23.

My point is that things come together slowly. One step at a time. Change is ubiquitous and unending in this life and there’s no getting around it. Because it forces us out of familiar routines and habits, we resist it—even when it’s good for us. So, nineteen months ago everything changed. Movies, concerts, and social events were curtailed. We all learned about wearing face masks and social distancing. Such a bother! At first, anyway. But once we began to settle into routine, it turned out to be simple enough—especially when weighed against the possibility of contracting the corona virus or its variants.

Carol and I were talking a couple of nights ago, all the silver linings we have experienced because of the pandemic. With pretty much each other as main companions, we became slower and more deliberate in our dinner conversations. More conversational. After lapsing into excessive drinking during the pandemic’s early days, I found the will to cut back and “keep it simple” as they say. I have taken up walking to nearby wetlands for spiritual and emotional support—my own private Waldon Pond—which I never would have discovered if I had not been forced to nose around my neighborhood and find what’s right there beneath my feet! We have both adopted better exercise routines. And become more deliberate keeping up with our extended families. And network of friends. Carol has always been very good sat this buy the pandemic reminded me of my love for these people in my life and the importance of maintaining bonds.

A lot of people have put greater time into their gardening or cooking or hobbies. Or have become more focused or intentional about their reading. Or, in my case, trying to put together an Adult RE (Religious Education) program on Ritual in Our Lives that can help people more deeply understand how myth and ritual provide another way to interpret and process human experience, a way that balances our ordinary, linear-sequential, everyday experience with depth and insight. Look for it and sign up in January!

America is so busy, busy all the time. With little time for just taking in the view or smelling the roses. But these activities are the pith and essential sweetness of life! Among the most pleasant things a person can experience. Simple. Unheralded. Comforting. Thanks for What? Thanks for all of them. For, as my father called them, “the simple pleasures of the poor.” A filling meal, a good conversation, tender intimacy (whether verbal, physical, or just laughing together happily and robustly: how great is that?) Taking the time to pause and step off the merry-go-round, look around and appreciate the beauty of life and of all the simple things happening all around us every day. The pandemic has helped me do that. Not at first. But as the contagion has gone on, as more and more Trump supporters (in some perverse effort to make President Biden look worse than their champion) have refused to get vaccinated, I have been taken by the multiple ways those who would destroy the Republic are destroying themselves En route. “Cutting their noses off to despite their face,” as my mom used to say about self-destructive behavior indulged in out of foolish pride.

Another silver lining: the ways in which people are quitting their dead-end, unproductive and soul-stifling jobs. And branching out anew! This is wonderful news. It’s scary and unnerving to leave the familiar and go for your heart’s desire. I remember when my daughter and two of her girlfriends gathered up their meager possessions and moved from Albuquerque to Boston. Before embarking Meredith had written every grown-up she knew, told them about her plan and asked for any contacts they had that might make her “Big Move” successful. My older sister, who had known and loved Meredith her whole life and who also lives in a beautiful home in suburban Boston wrote her back and told her, maybe you ought to think about going Denver or Austin or somewhere less competitive, than around here. There are lots of Harvard and MIT graduate students whose spouses are also looking for work. The competition is very fierce. To which my daughter replied: “Not very helpful! I am going to go through with my plan and if you can’t help me, please stay out of it.” [YES!] My sister immediately admitted her unhelpfulness and soon the three young women were all resettled and thriving in a town close to her own.

The pandemic has thrown many plans into disarray. Many were compelled to delay their “Big Move,” but others went ahead despite the many difficulties. Indeed, sometimes difficulties can lead to a good thing.

I am one who has an active prayer life. Do I pray like Janis Joplin, “Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes-Benz?” No. I do not believe in petitional prayer of that kind at all. But I do believe in prayer. It helps me become clearer about what my heart’s desire is. And that is always worth knowing. What is making me tick? What inspires me? What floats my boat? I think it’s healthy to go ahead and become clear with oneself about just what you are longing for. And aiming for. And that it’s okay to pray for what you want to happen. But here’s the catch: while our prayers are always answered, I also believe they’re never answered in quite the way we want or expect them to be.

So? What are we to pray for then, going forward? First, let us pray for thankfulness, for the calm and presence to recognize our existential dependence on the Great Chain of Being and accept its gracious bounty full-heartedly. Secondly, let us pray that our fellow citizens—those with whom we are in accord and those we contend with—find a way to embrace one another, and to embrace vaccines and reduce infection rates across the land. And finally, let us pray that our beloved country finds its way back into dialogue and constructive self-government. That America’s 400th Thanksgiving be one of growing appreciation for our way of government, our way of life, and one another.

May it be so. Shalom. Namaste. Salaam. Amen. And my blessings abide.