Wilfrid Stinissen
(excerpt from the book Journey to Truth, the subtitle of the book is: Everyone who is of the truth hears my voice)
Chapter 16.
In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you (1 Thess 5:18),
Gratitude is the central reality of the Christian life. The Mass is traditionally called "eucharist," which means thanksgiving. This testifies to the fact that gratitude is the fundamental attitude of a Christian person. A truly Christian life is marked by "expressing gratitude for the glory of God" (2 Cor 4:15).
How can we thank God when so many tragedies are happening in the world? Wouldn't it be time to revise our image of God and stop considering God as the Almighty who holds the threads of all events in His hands? Shouldn't we rather describe God as a powerless spectator, forced to witness humanity destroying both itself and its environment, unable to intervene?
Yet the Church continues to profess "I believe in God, the Father Almighty." Isn't it precisely due to His omnipotence that God does not need to constantly intervene? God can allow any occurrence precisely because He is Almighty. God's power lies in the fact that for Him, everything, absolutely everything is usable, so He can instill meaning even into completely absurd phenomena. From the dreadful dissonances that humanity presents to Him, God can compose a melodious symphony. What is inherently evil becomes something good simply because God uses it as material for His building plans.
Our view of reality is extremely fragmented. We are masters at analyzing. We can break down God's grand plan into small pieces. Then everything appears incomprehensible and nonsensical to us. But God thinks synthetically. God sees the whole; He has an overview of the entire history. That's why He measures by different standards. When we face death, we see only death and nothing more. However, God sees how new life is born from death.
Do we not say too hastily that suffering and death are something evil? Certainly, because we do not see the dynamics of presence. Death is not a final destination, but a transition, a crisis of growth. Isn't it strange that we find it so hard to accept suffering and death as processes of maturation when nature continually teaches us that old life must die for new life to be born? If a caterpillar is not ready to leave its caterpillar life, it can never become a butterfly. And if a flower wants to remain forever a bloom, it can never mature into a fruit. Death is not as bad as we think. Behold how Jesus expresses His relationship to death: "I go to the Father" (John 14:28).
The Bible teaches us at every turn about this grand perspective. The Bible sees all events outlined against the infinite horizon, against the backdrop of eternity. The Bible continually expands the trivial and limited fields of human vision and brings them into proper measure. When we read the Bible, it should be, among other things, to continually discover how God, with incredible virtuosity, governs the course of history, how skillfully and confidently He uses every phenomenon, every event, even human sin and rebellion, to realize His plan.
If we learn to see every detail in our lives as a building block in God's love plan, our gratitude will flow naturally. We are wholeheartedly united with the priest when he sings in the liturgy: "It is truly right and just, good and pleasing that we should always and everywhere give you thanks."
"In all circumstances give thanks to God," writes St. Paul, "for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you" (1 Thess 5:18). Giving thanks to God for everything, even for what is painful and distressing for us, is faith in full activity. If we only thank God for joyful events, it is a sign that our faith has not yet matured. Nothing makes faith so strong and so independent of emotional life as thanking God for everything.
Gratitude lifts us to God's wavelength. God governs the circumstances of our lives with love and we receive them as expressions of love. Our souls sense God's love, even though our bodies may be groaning and our minds do not understand. When we give thanks to God, the gates of the flood open wide so that a mighty surge of love can fill our innermost being. We allow the power of God's love to enter and feel a new energy awakening within us.
Radical solutions are often easier than halfway solutions. To thank for what we perceive as unpleasant initially requires a bit more energy than simply trying to accept the inevitable. However, once we undertake this small effort, everything seems much easier afterward. We have crossed the threshold and found ourselves in an environment where we breathe cleaner air and everything proceeds more calmly. Moreover, we do so with a clearer mind. Even for our sins, we must give thanks because our sins make us poor and remind us ever more clearly of our immense need for salvation. Every sin that, thanks to God's grace, we cast off deepens our participation in the mystery of the cross. In a paradoxical way, it has become that our sins tie us to Christ (cf. Luke 5:32). The only condition is that we admit our sin. A confessed sin brings us to true self-knowledge, and only the truth sets us free. That is why God allows certain events, perhaps even arranges circumstances so that they truly challenge us; they serve as a test that reveals our true face.
Deep within us, there is a great deal of rebellion against God, dormant revolts of which we are not even aware. We risk that our entire life is an illusion, that we harbor pure love within us, or that we are entirely surrendered to God's will. And then God brings us into situations where the dormant rebellion awakens and manifests itself in full light. I may think of myself as loving and gentle because I get along with my environment without conflict. However, the credit for that may well belong to my environment, as the people in whose presence I live may have unusually good character. It can benefit me when God puts someone in my path who irritates me and drives me crazy. If I then lose my patience or even explode with anger, I should say: "Thank you, Lord God, for freeing me from my illusions about myself." Gratitude for our sins and mistakes allows God to remind us how fully we depend on Him.
Many may ask whether constant thanksgiving leads to a lack of engagement. But is it not the opposite? Gratitude does not stand in opposition to the effort we invest to improve the world. Thanksgiving rather encourages us to approach the work with greater prudence and determination. The art of thanking presupposes that we have discovered a new dimension in the harsh reality, but with a heart full of hope. The one who thanks shows that he has understood that the life and future of the Risen One shine through death and sin. The Christian cannot be blinded by the past. He has his eyes open to the new that is still hidden, yet is already present in the germinating seed. The one who begins to discover this hidden new dimension cannot help but give thanks. Therefore, giving thanks does not mean that we reconcile ourselves with the present situation as something unchangeable and definitive. Thanksgiving creates the opposite of the current state simply because we cannot thank if we do not sense the new that is growing in the meantime. Thus, thanksgiving becomes the first step on the path to change. Thanksgiving is borne by hope for a better future, not only in heaven but also here on earth. After all, the Kingdom of God is like leaven that is to leaven the whole world (cf. Matt 13:33).
The one who thanks demonstrates that he believes that amid all the violence and horrors of our time, he sees the pains of the birth of a new world, that he sees how new life is born out of death. For all this, we have a unique example in Jesus' great prayer of thanksgiving, which arose from the darkness of night. The evangelist John emphasizes that it was the night when Judas left after Satan entered into him (cf. John 13:27–30). In this moment of darkness, Jesus saw the dawn of a new day that would never end. Therefore, He gave thanks. He saw ahead the horrifying drama that would unfold the next day and that would become the salvation of the world. For this reason, He sent forth in the darkest moment of His life an inner prayer of thanksgiving.
This prayer of thanksgiving has remained with us not as a relic but as a current reality in the Eucharist – the Lord's Supper. Those who frequently receive Holy Communion find it easy to thank God "always and everywhere," even in the dark moments of world events and their own lives.
