“What do you say?” Parents often ask their children this simple question. When the answer is not “Please” or “I’m sorry,” it is almost certainly “Thank you.” And after Christmas or a birthday, parents sit their children down and have them write thank-you notes — no matter how illegible or misspelled they may be.
Parents instinctively know that their children must learn to give thanks. This training cultivates natural virtue and imbues manners necessary for polite society. But more importantly, it prepares them for supernatural life and the duty of giving thanks to God.
“Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” (Lk 17:17-18). Only one of the 10 lepers returned to give thanks. All ten were probably thankful. But only one made the deliberate act of going to our Lord and thanking Him. Thanksgiving, in other words, demands more than just a warm feeling of gratitude. (Indeed, sometimes we may not even feel that.) It demands the choice and effort to make some act expressing our gratitude.
Giving thanks is one of the most basic duties we owe to God, or to any benefactor. Yet, if it is so basic, why do we find it so difficult? Why do we forget to say “Thank you,” and delay the writing of thank-you cards? Why do we fail to thank God daily for all that is good (and then, ironically, blame Him for all that is bad)?
Simply put, to thank someone means to admit a certain dependence on that person’s goodness. And we individualistic, do-it-yourself types do not like to admit our dependence on anyone. This applies all the more to our relationship with God. To thank Him means to admit that we rely entirely upon Him, that we have nothing on our own, that any good we have and do comes only from His goodness and mercy. It means to admit the humbling truth of our Lord’s words: “Without me you can do nothing” (Jn 15:5).
The failure to give thanks presents a great spiritual danger. If we do not remind ourselves of our dependence upon His goodness and deliberately give Him thanks, then we will quickly claim all credit for any good we have done. We will begin to think that we can do it all ourselves. Failure to give thanks leads to delusions of adequacy. We call that pride, and from it all sins flow. Giving thanks acknowledges our dependences and preserves the humility necessary for the spiritual life.
A constant and deliberate effort to thank God will before long reveal not only that we cannot do anything without Him, but also that we cannot thank Him without Him. Even our desire to thank Him is itself a gift. So the Psalmist’s question becomes our own: “How can I repay the Lord for all the good done for me?” (Ps 116:12).
We cannot repay. We cannot thank Him. Only the Son of God can offer fitting thanks to God. Only our Lord offered the perfect act of thanksgiving — on the Cross. So that we can share in His perfect thanksgiving to the Father, He entrusted this sacrifice to the Church in the Mass. The word “eucharist” means “thanksgiving.” So as we shared in the Psalmist’s question we can also share in his answer: “I will raise the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord” (Ps 116:13). As often as we participate in the sacrifice of the Mass, we share in Christ’s thanksgiving to the Father. Only in the Eucharist do we find a “Thank you” equal to the Father’s gifts.
Fr. Scalia is parochial vicar of St. Patrick Parish in Fredericksburg, VA.
(This article courtesy of the Arlington Catholic Herald.)
