"The Gift of Grateful Presence" - 11/26/25

One of the privileges I treasure as a minister is that I often begin the seasons ahead of everyone else. It is only the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, yet it feels as if I am already standing in mid-December with Christmas Eve drawing near, especially as I prepare for the Advent season and our Christmas Eve service.
Friends who have visited my office may have noticed the stereo system tucked in the corner. I listen to music whenever I am working, and this past week I played what is likely George Winston’s most beloved and best-selling album, December. Many consider it an all-time favorite, but I usually begin listening to it in late November and continue into early December. When I first heard it many years ago in Korea, I wondered why he opened the album with a track titled “Thanksgiving.” (Thanksgiving is in November, right?) Only after coming to the United States and living within the rhythm of the seasons here did I fully understand his intention.
The month of December, with all its beauty, tenderness, and joy, begins right after we pause to give thanks. 
Last night, we shared a joint Thanksgiving service with our sister congregation, Faith United Methodist Church. The service was deeply meaningful, and I am grateful to Pastor Rick for his thoughtful message. It was preceded by a rich time of fellowship between our two churches. The warm meal prepared by our members expressed the love and friendship we share.


Scripture
"Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."
-1 Thessalonians 5:18  NIV


Reflection
Gratitude is not primarily about words or gestures, though these have their place. It is, at its deepest level, a way of seeing. When we give thanks, we acknowledge that what surrounds us is gift, not entitlement. We recognize the presence of grace in ordinary moments: the warmth of shared bread, the kindness of neighboring congregations, the steady presence of faith communities gathered in purpose.

There is something profound about beginning the season of Advent with a grateful heart. The psalmist knew this truth when they wrote of entering God's gates with thanksgiving. Gratitude prepares the soil of the soul. It clears away the clutter of complaint and comparison, making space for the wonder that Advent calls us to contemplate. When we are grateful, we are present. When we are present, we are truly awake to the mystery of divine love entering the world.

The Korean concept of 감사 (gamsa, gratitude) carries within it the idea of feeling and recognizing the weight of kindness received. It is not a fleeting emotion but an active acknowledgment of relationship. When our church people prepared the meal for yesterday's gathering, they were not simply cooking food. They were translating gratitude into nourishment, transforming their thanks into something that could be tasted and shared. This is the language God speaks most clearly: the language of presence, of showing up, of feeding one another.

As we move from the harvest season into the waiting season, we carry with us the settled peace that comes from acknowledgment. We have paused to notice what has been given. We have broken bread together. We have looked across tables at brothers and sisters in faith and recognized the abundance that has sustained us through another year. This recognition is not naive to suffering or loss. Rather, it is the courageous act of refusing to let difficulty have the final word. It is choosing to see the hand of grace even in complicated circumstances.

The month ahead invites us into deeper waters of longing and expectation. We enter not as seekers without, but as those already held by grace. We enter as the grateful, as those who have tasted kindness, who have been held by community, who have felt the presence of something beyond ourselves working through the simplest acts of love. This gratitude becomes our ballast. It steadies us. It reminds us that we have been loved before, we are loved now, and we will be loved again.

The gift of tomorrow, Thanksgiving Day itself, is not that we suddenly become grateful people. Rather, it is an invitation to pause and notice the gratitude that is already present, already working in us, already transforming how we see the world and each other.


Prayer
Holy One, we bow before the mystery of your generosity. You have woven gratitude into the very fabric of our being, and you meet us in the simple moments of recognition: in shared meals, in gathered communities, in the steady presence of those who show up for one another. As we pause tomorrow to give thanks, open our eyes to see what is already gift. Quiet our hearts to hear what kindness is already speaking. And as we step into the season of waiting and hope, carry us forward on the foundation of gratitude, knowing that you are faithful and our trust is not misplaced. Amen.