A Prayer of Thanksgiving

As Thanksgiving day approaches, I look back on this Celebration Rock collection of remembrances with deep gratitude. And not only for the opportunity to have engaged so many years ago in such a creative olio of music, theological reflection, and audience feedback. This blog itself has reconnected me with old friends, long-ago listeners, radio folk, and colleagues in ministry.

I began this e-journal back in February (though an earlier effort proved to be a false start). Since then, I wrote far more often than I had exepected to, and broke the thread in September to do some traveling. It’s been hard to return to this discipline, especially knowing that all that was left to write was the obituary for both radio show and blog. (I did notice that even when I wasn’t writing, there were still readers who happened on the blog, perhaps Googling a song title, or some key word or memory, that led to “celebrationrock.wordpress.”)

Before we end, and move on to something new, in the spirit of thanksgiving I share this prayer from the November 19, 1989 “Celebration Rock” program which aired on Thanksgiving weekend of that year. Of course I had looked through my record library for rock music that included musical expressions of gratitude, and that wasn’t all that successful. (Quick…name five hit songs about thanksgiving!)  I used Dan Fogelberg’s “Leader of the Band,” an expression of thanksgiving for his Dad, and I used “Thank You for Being a Friend” by Andrew Gold, among a few others.

But the major offering on that Sunday was an ecumenically-produced Thanksgiving special entitled “The Great American Feast.” Media friends at Sandcastles International engaged the comedian-actor-composer Steve Allen, a Presbyterian, to host the program, which included real-life stories (actualities, we called them) of folks who expressed thanksgiving for their blessings of work, family, faith, friendship, and health. Then Allen concluded the half-hour with something he had written called “A Prayer of Thanks for the Big and Small.”

Thanks to my friend and colleague Billie Brightwell for remembering the prayer and prompting me to transcribe it for safe-keeping here.

[Note: Allen chuckled a few times in this prayer(!), occasions noted with J]

 

For the opportunity to live in freedom, we thank you, Lord.

For the freedom to dissent, to disagree, to vote, we thank you.

For medicine that works, for laughing children at play, we give thanks.

For good books in which we lose ourselves, for good friends in whom we find ourselves,

for woods and churches where we can be silent,

for loud parties and parades where we can whoop and holler and dance and sing.

For rocking chairs and socks in pairs,

for garbage bags that do not break,

for a window box of daisies,

thank you.

 

For the artist’s touch in words, pictures, and sounds

that give us faith that we are not in vain,

for the people who make us laugh and cry, in circuses and shows and good movies,

for the persons who invent toys that last,

for French fries and comic strips,

for leaders who challenge and care,

for good story-tellers, for good music makers who make us hum their songs,

we say thank you.

 

For bus drivers who smile,

for receptionists who don’t put us on hold,

for television commercials that make us giggle or feel we’ve learned something,

for things that work, thank you.

 

For the times of healed pain, for the times we’ve been healed by pain,

for the comfort of good neighbors and the kindness of strangers,

for the smell and taste of morning coffee,

for the long talks with good friends, for children bathed and bedded,

for good red wine, and feisty long conversations, we thank you.

For the burning leaves of long autumn evenings,

and for the brilliant winter sun on snowy roofs,

for favorite magazines,

and for an open fire,

and long Sunday afternoons,

thank you, Lord.

 

For those who really listen, we especially thank you.

And thank you for those who visit the lonely, and clothe the naked,

and feed the hungry, not just because it’s a mandate from on high,

but because that’s the way they want to live: helping others.

For those who have given us the freedom to make our own mistakes,

and learn to love life at first hand.

 

For the smell of barbecued ribs,

the quiet time before the dawn,

and for block parties where new arrivals find they’ve come home.

 

For ministers and priests and rabbis who live what they believe,

for doctors and nurses who not only cure but care,

for parents who speak love and show it.

 

Thanks for a cheeseburger with everything on it,

and a good crossword puzzle,

and for sleeping late and the luxury to choose to, now and then.

Thanks for a shady tree in summer’s heat, for iced drinks,

for the electricity of laughter and the power of good thinking.

Thank you for the courage to say the word, “Sorry.”

And the strength and forgiveness that reflects your mercy.

 

Thank you for fancy foods, and simple foods, and frozen foods J

and the sense to know when we’ve had enough of them.

Thank you for the quiet marvels of all of life,

for the gathering of weddings that make us cry with joy,

and the gatherings of funerals that make us cry in shared sorrow and not despair.

 

Thank you for short agendas and small committees.

Thank you for rocket ships and fireworks.

Thank you for short lines at the stores,

and for finding a ten dollar bill in a long unused jacket.

Thank you for the amazing jigsaw of life.

May we always love the questions and not be so sure about the answers.

 

Thanks for baloney (or bologna J or both),

for window shopping, for sparkling old wine,

for the majesty of cats,

Thank you for the special people we meet so seldom,

          and yet when we do, we feel that we’ve never been apart from them.

Thanks for children’s playgrounds without fights and tears,

for dolls that don’t have to blink or make a noise, but just silently give comfort.

Thank you for radios that inform and do not blare,

for chocolates and jokes and for funny hats.

 

Thank you for giving us patience, with others, but especially with ourselves.

Thank you for un-delayed airplane fights, and safe arrivals for travelers.

And for all the unseen people that make a city work.

Thank you for our places of worship, of work, and of love.

Thank you for poets, and practical mechanics,

and for a favorite old pair of slippers.

Thank you, Lord, for all the gifts we have in abundance, large and small.

May we receive them well and take our time to say the thank yous,

and we do thank you.

Amen…and amen.