This morning as we gather for worship, we celebrate first an ending, for it is the last day of the liturgical calendar. The church celebrates this ending by designating this as Christ the King Sunday. It is a feast established by Pope Pius the XI in 1925. That year found Mussolini in charge of Italy for three years, Hitler out of jail for a year and the Nazi party gaining in strength, a world in the Great Depression. In such a time the Pope asserted that the world needed a reminder of a true King, a true ruler. The celebration of Christ the King was to ask the world of 1925: "who rules your life?" In the midst of the brokenness of that day, it was to ask "who will you give power and dominion to?" – appropriate questions for our day. Appropriate also is the celebration of the kingship of Christ as we look towards the Advent season – a season that anticipates both the birth and second coming of Jesus Christ – a king like no other, born as a tiny powerless baby.

As we mark the ending of the liturgical calendar, we also gather this morning in the midst of our Thanksgiving celebrations. Imagine what a newcomer would define as Thanksgiving for this country by listening to the news reports of the past few days. The conclusion would be that this holiday is about how to get all of the people who have decided to travel to their destinations on time, and tips for the travelers on how to deal with the crowds in the airports and traffic on the roads. The next event in the holiday is beating the shopping crowds on Friday, and the hopes of the marketing industry for a good shopping season. And sandwiched somewhere in all that is mention of parades and football games … oh yes, and was there something about a special meal? We all know there is much more to it than that and we who gather as God's people know that even more so. Yet, even knowing better, there is the lure of business, of spending, and of the hectic pace of this season to draw us from being a truly thankful people. It is easy to forget whose we are and who we are.

The Hindu God Shiva is symbolic of the forces of creation and destruction, and the balancing of opposites. Shiva is often depicted as dancing, and has four arms in the dance, representing the four cardinal directions of space. A different object or hand position is found on each arm: a drum representing creation, a gesture meaning "do not be afraid", a gesture of release from the cycles of death and rebirth, and a flame which is the essence of creation and destruction. So much power and might in Shiva for the Hindu people! Yet often in the depictions of Shiva is a little figure of a human being, sometimes found under Shiva's feet, other times found doing its own dance on Shiva's back. A symbol of the inertia and ignorance of human beings who can be in the very presence of God and go on with their own thing, not able to see God at work in the forces of the universe, in the forces of their lives, and in the very dance of their own life. This morning we pause to remember, so that we do not become like the little figure dancing on the back of God, so caught up that we can not see God in our midst, unable to respond to God's lavish love poured out upon us.

We read this morning from the 26th chapter of Deuteronomy where the people were commanded to return thanks for God's deliverance. Throughout the book, the Israelites are given instructions on what to do in the land they are about to enter and possess. It is their promised land, one flowing with milk and honey, one ripe with the promises of living in God's blessings. In this text they are given instructions for the offerings of thanks they are to make when they reach the land. The text is a reminder of where they had been in their journey and the promise of what will come. Moses knew the danger of "arriving," how easy it would be to forget their deliverance journey, and hence this text served as a reminder to the people of Israel.

Much is made of being self-reliant. We get where we are by our own resourcefulness and having been self-made. There is much truth to that as we look back at our heritage. There is much to celebrate about the hard work and dedication that we bring to life. We do not have to rely on, or be a burden to others when we are responsible people. The danger is the same face by the people of Israel … forgetting. We start to think that who we are, what we have is because we earned it, we deserve it, and more dangerously we are entitled to it. A simple exercise to remind us we aren't on our own, and can't pull ourselves up on our own is this: ever stand on a rope while holding either end and try to pull yourself off the ground? Again, Moses knew the danger, and reminded the people how they'd gotten there, and to return thanks and blessings to God.

That's the easy part – to remember in the midst of our prosperity. The harder part of remembering comes in how to return thanks in the midst of the stuff of life. Who knows the needs we bring to this worship service, to our thanksgiving celebrations? We gather in the midst of loneliness, we gather maybe facing tomorrow alone. We gather feeling as if there is no one in the world who will say to us: "I've got your back." We also come together knowing the world is not an easy place, perhaps there are few times of which it could be said the world was an easy place. How do we return thanks in the midst of those who do not have enough, while there are others who have too much? Life is not simple, or easy … life is difficult … worse, life is not fair. It's not even close to being fair. There is nothing we can do about that. What we can do, and what we are called to do as God's people is to be faithful and responsible in the midst of life no matter where we are. Sometimes it is a simple thing … to remember our manners in the midst of painful moments. How powerful it is to receive common courtesy from a family member in the midst of deep sorrow. Their remembering to hold the door for someone, their thank you is a lesson. Other times the response to life's unfairness is quite extraordinary. In Afghanistan the Red Cross runs six hospitals for orthopedics and prosthetic devices. I visited the facility in Kabul which is headed by an Italian doctor by the name of Alberto Cairo. It is an amazing facility. They employ only those who have been disabled themselves, most having lost a limb to the land mines which litter the country. They have found a way to turn an instrument of destruction into a life giving one – someone discovered that the rubber used on the Soviet tanks which also litter the country is perfect for prosthetic devices … and so that is what they use. It is an impressive place, a life giving place that has risen to the occasion in face of what might be cause for throwing in the towel. One particular story touched me. We met a farmer who had accidentally detonated a land mine while plowing his fields … he lost both of his arms. The hospital had made him two prosthetic arms with interchangeable devices that were actually farming equipment. As the man learned to use his new arms the look of joy and celebration on his face was incredible. One might understand if he decided to forget life in the face of its unfairness … but here he was almost dancing with joy at what a new life he would have. THAT is giving thanks.

We gather in worship most of all this morning to remember … Jesus reminds us that we have been given the bread of life that will meet all of our hunger and thirst. It is that gift that gives us the ability to return thanks in the midst of both prosperity and emptiness. Let us not be found dancing on the back of God, but rather dancing the dance of life with God. Help us, God, to see you in our midst, your hand at work guiding and guarding us. Amen.