Focusing on God’s Abundance

Everywhere we go, we are surrounded by news of the world around us. Televisions, radios, podcasts, the computer we use at work, the phone in our pocket, and even a few newspapers in the stand near the checkout at the grocery store all want to tell us what’s happened in the last few minutes. It can be easy to feel overwhelmed and dragged down by all of this news, especially when so much of it is unpleasant. Psychological research shows that we are more likely to stay engaged with and consume more of the news that upsets us compared to the news that makes us happy. Presenting the ugly stuff is a smart sales tactic on the part of those who want to keep our eyes trained on their product. That is the motto of our modern economy, after all: Consume more of everything at all times. 

Occasions to buck this trend and intentionally focus our thoughts and attention on what is good are such an important antidote to this barrage of attention-seeking, consumption-driving information. We set aside the latest soundbites, quiet the constant shouting, take a deep breath, and sit in contentment and gratitude for a while. Our annual Harvest Thanksgiving celebrations in October are on such occasion. 

These celebrations are important for us, not only as a recognition that there is still plenty of good in this world, but as a reminder of where that good comes from. It is easy, in a world that we have so successfully conformed to our own will in so many ways, to forget the source of all the good things that surround us. It would be so simple to begin to think that it was we humans who, somehow, made the seeds grow into the bounty that we harvest each autumn. We know that this is not true, that God is the source of everything good in creation. Even though we may be the ones to scatter the seed and reap the harvest, the growing and maturing of the grain is not our doing. (Mark 4:26-29) 

The tendency for humans to separate themselves from the world around them, to lose track of the natural cycles and the rhythms of creation instituted by God, may be especially obvious today, but it is not new. Many generations ago, in ancient Israel, a similar conversation was taking place. Strongly worded reminders from God’s prophets to the chosen people that, even when their flocks increase and they are wealthy beyond their grandparents’ dreams, they must not forget the covenant that made this possible. (Deuteronomy 8:11-18) Of course, God’s expectations for those who have more than they need include care for those who go without. For our God, thanksgiving for an abundant harvest means sharing generously. (Deuteronomy 10:17-19; Matthew 25:35-40) 

I think many of us lose sight of the kind of abundance that surrounds us every day. Not only the incredible diversity of crops and fertile soil in Niagara, but also  the miracles that modern transportation technology has made possible. Even in the dead of a brutal Canadian winter, many of us can travel to a supermarket full of food, including fresh produce from the other side of the planet. It is challenging to remember that, until very recently, a good autumn harvest was critical to surviving the coming winter. We have so much to be grateful for and so much abundance to share. 

The Christian sensibility around gratitude and thanksgiving is a powerfully counter-cultural one. To set aside time to focus on what is good, to be grateful for what we have, and to share with those who go without is a strong statement. In a world that idolizes The Economy—a rapacious beast that demands infinite growth in every season, constant production, and the hoarding of wealth and goods for their own sake—to make space for contentment, gratitude, and sharing is truly a sign of another way of life. When we are willing to make sacrifices for the sake of our neighbour in need, to set aside times of rest when we could be “productive”, when we choose gratitude over gluttony, we show that it is possible to live with hearts focused on heaven and treasures stored up accordingly. (Matthew 6:19-21) 

Imagine how the world would change if contentment and thanksgiving were practiced widely as Christians are called to practice them. How much would the climate crisis be slowed if one day in every seven were given to rest instead of extraction and production? How would the well-being of workers increase if the profits of their labour were shared equitably? How much better would the news be if thanksgiving, not consumption, were the central value of our economy?