Let all your thinks be thanks!
I have recently read a book called “The Call” by Os Guinness. This week I shared a chapter with the staff at devotions, and next week I will share the best chapter, called “Let all your thinks be thanks”.
Here is an excerpt from the chapter’s introduction. Well worth the read and to ponder…
What does it mean to pay back in life? To discharge our deepest debts of all? To fulfill our obligations for simply being human? How do we pay back our fathers and mothers? Were our parents just “the luck of the womb” for us, or more? How do we pay back the one teacher who made all the difference in our school years? Or the youth director or team coach whose noticing us in a special way drew out a part of us that was crucial in our becoming who we are today?
Or, at another level, how do we repay the profound way we are moved by films such as David Lean’s Lawrence of Arabia? Or by such dramas as Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex and Shakespeare’s King Lear? Or by listening to a Bach cantata or Mozart requiem? And most profoundly of all, what do we owe for the beauty of a sunset or a daisy? And to whom do we direct our gratitude simply for being alive?
The answer is easier for those with a sense of the “miraculous” in their story. Fyodor Dostoevsky was capriciously reprieved seconds before his execution by firing squad in 1849; he saw all his subsequent life with the sweetly lit intensity of a man come back from the dead. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn was inexplicably healed from cancer in Tashkent in 1954 only weeks from death after being discharged from the hospital to die; he gained a new sense of mission from his gratitude. “I did not die, however. With a hopelessly neglected and acutely malignant tumour, this was a divine miracle; I could see no other explanation. Since then, all the life that has been given back to me has not been mine in the full sense: it is built around a purpose.”
But for most of us the underlying debts of life are not so obvious or dramatic. Unless we are forced to think about them, we take them for granted. We can pick up a CD-ROM and a few presses of a finger conjures up an entire dictionary the likes of which Samuel Johnson laboured years to assemble. A few more touches and the computer spews forth information that would have been the envy of Aristotle or Augustine, and that would have taken a monastery full of monks slaving several lifetimes to copy.
… we can come close to a reductionism that is misleading when we assume that paying the market price of an object means paying in full what we owe. A few minutes and a few dollars and the best editions of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony can be ours to enjoy when we like. But can we ever repay how we are touched by the fire of his “Ode to Joy”?
All sorts of curious twists arise when we pursue such questions. Isn’t it hypocritical, for example, that when we convict people for doing wrong to society, we say they “owe” something and must “repay the debt”—yet when society has so obviously showered so much good on the rest of us, we take it as our right and live as if we owe nothing in return?
But in the end we come back to the same basic question. What does it mean to repay in life? For our heritage? Our schooling? Our language? Our freedom? Our physique? Our looks? Our health? Our life? At that point a deep divide opens up. By its very character the modern world answers: You owe nothing. By its very character, the Christian gospel answers: You owe everything.
Thus a further dimension of calling appears—calling is a reminder for followers of Christ that nothing in life should be taken for granted; everything in life must be received with gratitude.
