Gratitude Not Attitude

We’ve all been in stores that were understaffed.  Sales clerks are often undertrained, underpaid and overworked.  And what you find is a number of grumpy employees.  And a big dose of attitude.

When I was at the skilled nursing facility recuperating from my hospital stay at Kaiser, most of the certified nurse aides were just fine, some, in fact, outstanding.  But a few – let’s just say they had few people skills.  “Would you like the lights off with some attitude?”  You got it!  Help to the restroom with attitude?  Right!  You got it.

What we got as a nation with the joint session of congress last Tuesday was a lot of attitude.  Attitude in abundance.  The performance by the president was unparalleled in length and in vituperation and grievance. 

No gratitude at all for having been handed an economy in great shape.  Record low unemployment.  One of the largest increases in the number of jobs in the country’s history.  Inflation coming down to normal levels.

Yes, what we got was a grievance-filled tirade vilifying Joe Biden, Democrats and “unelected bureaucrats.”  Packed with lie heaped upon lie.  He blamed the price of eggs on Joe Biden, or was it Hillary’s emails?  Not an ounce of gratitude.

Yes, life is sometimes difficult, precarious.  But we in America have no cause to be down-in-the-mouth.  Even our poorest live far better than many across this globe.

There is much to be grateful for.  That is the sentiment expressed in our lesson from Deuteronomy.  Entering the Promised Land, thankfulness is the order of the day.

“When you have come into that land the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance to possess, and you possess it, and settle in it, you shall take some of the first of all the fruit of the ground, which you harvest…You shall go to the priest…who takes the basket from your hand and sets it down before the altar of God…you shall make this response before the Lord your God:”

“My father was a wandering Aramean; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous.  When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the Lord, the God of our ancestors; the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression.  The Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display of power, and with signs and wonders he brought us to this place…”

It’s about gratitude for a journey which is always ongoing.  America has been blessed beyond measure:  we are Seminole, Aleut, French, African, Russian, Chinese, Mexican, Cherokee, Tlingit, Korean, German and English.  A rich Heinz 57 variety of cultures and nationalities, all now on a journey together into the Light, if we would but see it.  What’s not to be grateful for?

The temptations of Satan in Luke are about an attitude of presumptiveness, of entitlement.  All of which, Jesus refuses.

This idealized, romanticized version from Deuteronomy omits all the savage brutality that was involved in taking possession of that land.  It justifies the present dispossession of Palestinians from their land – the wanton slaughter and destruction of Gaza.  All with your tax dollars.

Just as is the case with the settlers’ conquest of America.  The genocide of the “Trail of Tears” and the so-called Indian schools in the Southwest, Canada and Alaska.  It omits over 300 years of slavery.  Yet here we are; let’s deal with it.  Despite all, we are blessed with unmeasured riches and opportunities our parents never had. 

The moral arc of the universe has bent a bit more toward justice in the American story.  The panoply of our history is repleat with invention, courage, renewal and correction.

My mother should have gone to college, but instead went to a business school, because that’s what a woman did back then.  Or she went into nursing or teaching.  Or waitressing or sales-clerking. Or caregiving.  All underpaid work.

The other evening, Jai and I watched an episode of NOVA on the collapse of the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore when struck by a huge container ship the length of three football fields.  I was delighted that the engineer heading up the recovery process was a young woman.  In my mother’s era, never would she have been considered for or promoted to such responsibility.  As she discussed the intricate physics of untangling the mess of twisted steel that had been that bridge, it warmed my heart.  I became choked up.  Gratitude for her success filled me in that moment.

I’ve been reading a book by a Jew who is deeply troubled by his people’s role in Gaza.  Peter Beinart, in costly gratitude for the ethical heritage of his people, dares to tell truth.[1]

He writes, “Over the last year, I’ve struggled with the way many Jews—including people I cherish—have justified the destruction of an entire society.  This book is about the stories Jews tell ourselves that blind us to Palestinian suffering.  It’s about how we came to value a state, Israel, above the lives of all the people who live under its control.”

In his willingness to consider the plight of the Palestinians, Peter has faced ostracism by many of his own tribe.  Yet, out of a generous spirit, he continues to believe in a possible future for both peoples.  This book “is about why I believe that Palestinian liberation means Jewish liberation as well.”  Peter’s book is written in gratitude not only for his people, but for the possibilities for reconciliation for both peoples.  It’s written in his gratitude for a rich Torah and prophetic heritage of truth and justice.

As we enter these 40 days of Lent, would that Christians might have the same humility, the same willingness to dare a larger vision of America.  Gratitude for a shared future is called for.  Not attitude.

Gratitude for the moments of joy that pierce the darkness will get us through these evil days.  We may sing the blues, but that lament carries us through the week to resolution, to possibility.  To a manageable Monday.

The other day, I passed by the strawberry stand in Chino on my way back from our P.O. box there.  On a lark I made a U-turn and swung into the parking area.  When I arrived home, I took one of those strawberries from the basket and indulged.  It was so flavorful, so delightful – it made my whole day.  Self-care is now so essential.

We sometimes sing a soulful song yet find the strength to move on, doing what we can. For as long as we can.  Enjoying the pleasures that unexpectantly come our way.  Like our Friday afternoon gathering of friends at our house I call SUDS ON THE DECK.  More self-care.

In Lent is the assurance that as we complete the journey, it is not as aliens but as beloved sons and daughters of the Most High.  We are all Wandering Arameans.  Brothers and sisters of one another.

By the way, a love offering to assist with the Ukrainian refugees would surely be an acceptable gift to lay at the altar of the Almighty – just sayin.’  Or a donation for the fire victims.  It might now be widow’s-mite time.  Let’s have an attitude of gratitude.

“If thou but trust in God to guide thee through the evil days.  Who trusts in God’s unchanging love builds on a rock that nought can move.”  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  Amen.

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[1] Peter Beinart, Being Jewish After the Destruction of Gaza: A Reckoning (New York: Knopf, 2925),

March 9, 2025
Lent 1


Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16;
Romans 10:8b-13; Luke 4:1-13
“Gratitude Not Attitude”