It was a Monday morning, in the middle of the summer, and I was on my way to the office.  Mondays are not bad days, but usually there is still a bit of weariness from a busy week and a challenging (but wonderful) Sunday.  I had already engaged all of my morning routines of exercise, coffee, Bible reading, newspaper, kissing my wife good-bye for the day, and getting dressed for work.  Except for the Bible reading, and maybe the exercise, it could have been just about anyone other person’s routine.  I checked the radio programs, griped about the other drivers, and even considered how hot it was going to be that day.  Arriving at the church building, I pulled into the parking lot to see a large “18 wheeler” finishing a circle of the building.  It is not unusual for people to circle around our building, but I have not see a truck of that size in our parking lot except for those making a delivery.  It crossed my mind that we might be receiving a delivery, but I was unaware of any that were to be arriving.  As I made my way toward the parking area, the truck moved toward me.  I assumed the driver would continue on his way to the street, but he didn’t.  As we started to pass one another he stopped the truck, and with his window open began to wave and shout at me.  I cautiously lowered my car window, and started to wave back at him.  Then I realized what he was saying.  He shouted, “I am in the church too.  Ain’t it great!?”  I shouted a “Yeah!”, and gave him a “thumbs-up sign.  He went on his way, and I parked my car.  As I walked in the building and to the office, I couldn’t help but think about how great it is to share that common ground and be able to express it to one another. 

            We have a language.  There is no secret code about it.  It even crosses traditional language barriers.  When we hear it, we know it.  It rings with familiarity.  It tells us that we are like one another.  It makes us comfortable.  It tells us that we can speak freely.  While it is not covert or hidden in some way, it is just seen as religious to much of the world.  Even to those who have not seen beyond the common perception of religion, fail to see the unique nature of it.  I am a bit reminded of the words of Peter when he wrote to those of “like precious faith” - 2 Peter 1:1.  When you spend time in the church and with the people who are the church, we learn those words and phrases that have meaning.  The man in the truck needed say no more.  We shared common ground, and it is great.

            May the words of your mouth convey your place in the church too.

Nature teaches some wonderful lessons, if we are willing to see and learn.

One of my favorite vacations to take is a trip to the Florida coast, along the Gulf of Mexico. Mornings are often the best part of the day. Sitting on a porch or balcony in the morning hours is a great time and place to have a cup of coffee and do some daily Bible reading. There are few distractions, and generally few people even strolling on the beach in the early morning. When the Bible reading is done, it is great to just sit and watch the dolphins, seagulls, and other wildlife as they move within their natural habitat.

It was just such a morning, as I sat to follow my enjoyable practice, that I noticed some interesting behavior that gave me some food for thought. Of course there are a lot of animal behaviors that are fun to watch. Sea birds of many kinds are common to the area. Gulls are often on the beach. They look for bits of food among the things left by visitors to the beach. There are also those birds that fly in circles until they see something edible beneath the surface of the water. They then tuck their wings and dive straight into the water. As they resurface, they are sometimes swallowing their catch, and other times it is obvious that no catch was made. Still, the behavior that caught my attention was what might be a little less dramatic. I watched as a line of about eight or ten pelicans (I believe they were some kind of pelican) as they flew, one behind the other, from right to left in front of me. They were about forty yards from me, and about twenty yards from shore. They were flying about eight feet above the water. They looked quite graceful and ordered as they flew. Then the first bird suddenly dipped toward the surface of the water. He leveled his flight about five feet from the water, traveled at that height for about two or three feet, and then returned to the former elevation to continue the flight. I surmised that the bird had seen something in the water and moved to a closer position. Either the possible dinner disappeared, or the bird was mistaken. It was probably the former. Now the described behavior might seem kind of expected by most of us, and I would agree. It was what followed that brought my reflection. Not only did the first bird dive closer to the water, the following birds did exactly the same. It was as if they were on a track that would not allow them any variation. The birds were spaced at such a distance that from the third bird to the end of the line, they could easily see that the “lead bird” had returned to the original height. There was no reason for them to lower and rise again. Yet they did. Every single one of them followed the exact pattern of their leader. At first, I wondered why they would follow such an unnecessary path, but surrendered to accepting the simple minds of birds.

Humans and birds are not so different. Jesus noted that people are like sheep in need of a shepherd to lead them (Matthew 9:36). So, it is not much of a stretch to relate to birds. The notable matter is the willingness to follow. All too often, we humans would rather follow than think. While thinking may bring some large challenges, it may avoid some time in the ditch (Luke 6:39). Quite frankly, we like to follow, even if no real purpose is served. Consider how many of us have been in large arenas or stadiums and have done the “wave”. We can look through history and see the continuing presence of abusive leaders who have always had a ready supply of followers.

So, maybe the lesson in this is pretty simple. Most of us are going to be followers. It is a good thing to be a follower (Mark 1:17). Being a follower doesn’t remove all responsibilities. Make sure of who you are following, and where it is that your leader is going.

Our mothers taught us to say the magic words. These maternal instructions were reinforced by teachers, and then ultimately by experience. You know the words. It is “please” when you want to receive something. It is “thank-you” when you have received.

Please is the easy one. Even if we don’t learn the meaning of manners, we do come to understand the practical aspects. We want something. We ask for it. We do it politely. We use the magic word. We say, “Please.” Our manners are “pleasing” and generally bring us a desired response.

Gratitude, the offering of a “thank-you”, is a little more challenging. The difficulty is not a matter of the words. The difficulty is not a matter of the meaning. The difficulty is a matter of the order. It comes after we are already satisfied. From a purely selfish point of view, we no longer have a need for being polite. So, “thank-you” is often lost.

The giving of thanks, or gratitude, as a cultivated emotion is best found by seeing where you have been and what is happening to you in the present. As children we expect things to be done for us. We are not hesitant to ask. For, from the time we are born, the world of our parents revolves around us. We cry and we receive attention. We cry and someone feeds us. We cry and someone changes us. We cry and someone cuddles us. We cry and we get what we want. The only gratitude expressed is the look of satisfaction and comfort we show. Hopefully, we grow beyond the simplicity of self-satisfaction to appreciatively see how much has been done for us.

The annual reminder of Thanksgiving, as a holiday, challenges us to reflect and remember. It is no secret to those who know me that I love Thanksgiving (the holiday). I’m not sure how to fully explain it, but maybe I don’t need to. Suffice it to say that there is something especially warm and comfortable about Thanksgiving. It always began a few days before the actual day. There were unique groceries that filled the refrigerator. There were smells that made your mouth water. Pies would be baked. Cornbread would be made. Mother would be in a great mood as she hustled about the kitchen. For the observing person, there were always samples to be tasted, bowls to be scraped, and beaters to be licked. It was great. I know; I would watch with anticipation and enjoy the appetite elevating tastes. When the meal was eaten, it was the really just the “filling in the pie”. Like so many others, I would eat until I was heavily filled. I guess I was grateful, but it was mostly selfish.

Somewhere along the line, the power of Thanks-giving came home. It was found in coming to know that the warmth of the season was far more than plenty of food on the table. Gradually, the sights, smells, tastes, and sounds of it all formulated a picture of blessing that drew from uncharted depths. “Thank-you” was no longer a forced and well taught piece of mannerly behavior. Gratitude became a real appreciation of heart. It rose from an application of knowing all that good that was generously being shared. It became as much about the giving as about the receiving. Thanks-giving arrived at the privilege of being involved in a responsive relationship. Much is received. Much can be shared.

We have received so much from God. We can think about how full we are. Far better, we can recognize the richness of the relationship we have. Then in the meaning of Thanks-giving, we can become a part of the sharing.