Thanksgiving Reflections

Thanksgiving Reflections
Overhead shot of red, orange, and purple trees

“All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. With great power, the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And God’s grace was so powerfully at work in them all that there were no needy persons among them. From time to time, those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need.” — Acts 4:32-35



Holiday gatherings often are idyllically framed as occasions of unified fellowship, caring, and generosity. But much like this description of the shared life of the earliest followers of Jesus, that image can appear too good to be true. For many, this picture does not line up with the reality we experience when we come together around the table at home or out in the neighborhood.

In an increasingly polarized world, we struggle to relate to the fluidity and intimacy of the common life described here. The closest we seem to come to finding unity is the mutual agreement to “not go there”—to avoid certain discussions related to matters of politics, economics, and faith. Finding ourselves unable or unwilling to talk about questions of power dynamics and equity, visions of coming together and being like-minded in taking action to meet the needs of others appear to be nothing more than an illusion—a fantasy.

How do we get past our inclination to hold tight to what we believe is ours and, instead, view what we each have been given as our means to contribute to the welfare of all?

What might it take for us to shift our perception of power from something we have to earn, achieve, and ultimately defend to something to which we have been entrusted in varying measures?  

As we take a closer look at this portrait of the life of the early Church, we discover what brought them together in fellowship is also what bonded them in their generous action as a community—thanksgiving. This socially and economically diverse group of people was animated by their awareness of the presence of God’s grace in their lives. Their hearts were softened and enlarged, and their hands became more open and compassionately far-reaching as they acknowledged all that we have and all that we are comes from the provision of the Creator to whom everything belongs.

More than this, they realized that God’s grace extends far beyond the daily provisions we often take for granted—the air we breathe, the food we eat, and the roofs over our heads. They perceived the grace of God even further in our Creator’s willingness to take on flesh in the person of Jesus Christ. Recognizing the gift of forgiveness and the offering of healing in the sacrifice of the Cross and the blessings of creation’s renewal in the empty tomb of the Resurrection, gratitude not only welled up inside them but naturally flowed out of their lives together.

Likewise, our unity in heart, mind, and action derives from our joint recognition of the divine grace we desperately need, are inexhaustibly given, and therefore have an abundance to share. From this acknowledgment, a collective outpouring of thanksgiving naturally flows. The reciprocal nature of gratitude is not about karma—doing good so that we might receive some good in return. The reciprocal nature of thanksgiving is an endless loop that is only possible by the grace of God. Because God is good, we give thanks. Because God is good to us, we give thanks by doing good for each other.

Gratitude is never passive. It moves from being an emotion or feeling to becoming a demonstration through our words or actions. Thankful people look for opportunities to share their gratitude by being generous toward others. They offer a smile, extend a hug, write a note, deliver a meal, meet a pressing need—not out of obligation but out of pure joy.

Fear, fatigue, and frustration can lead us to self-protectively circle the wagons and tend only to our own. While there is nothing inherently wrong with caring for our family and friends, we ought to be thankful enough for the ability to do so, and acknowledge that, ultimately, it is God who has and will continue to provide for them and us. Out of this gracious provision, our Creator assures us there is enough to be shared with others—beyond our circle—especially those in need.

True thanksgiving reminds us we are all in this together—that our achievements are never fully our own but contingent upon a network of relationships that uphold and shape us. And this sacred communion stems from being rooted in our most important and foundational relationship with our Creator. No matter what divides us, the grace of God is greater and promises to bring and hold us together if we abide and share the goodness of the One from whom all blessings flow. Let us then give thanks daily by reaching up gratefully toward heaven as we reach out in love, mercy, and compassion toward each other.  



Words: Chris Tweitmann

Images: Ricardo Gomez Angel, Jessica Furtney, Maksym Tymchyk

Grey, green, red, and yellow trees
A river running through a forest of autumn trees
Overhead shot of a forest of orange, red, and purple trees

“All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. With great power, the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And God’s grace was so powerfully at work in them all that there were no needy persons among them. From time to time, those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need.” — Acts 4:32-35



Holiday gatherings often are idyllically framed as occasions of unified fellowship, caring, and generosity. But much like this description of the shared life of the earliest followers of Jesus, that image can appear too good to be true. For many, this picture does not line up with the reality we experience when we come together around the table at home or out in the neighborhood.

In an increasingly polarized world, we struggle to relate to the fluidity and intimacy of the common life described here. The closest we seem to come to finding unity is the mutual agreement to “not go there”—to avoid certain discussions related to matters of politics, economics, and faith. Finding ourselves unable or unwilling to talk about questions of power dynamics and equity, visions of coming together and being like-minded in taking action to meet the needs of others appear to be nothing more than an illusion—a fantasy.

How do we get past our inclination to hold tight to what we believe is ours and, instead, view what we each have been given as our means to contribute to the welfare of all?

What might it take for us to shift our perception of power from something we have to earn, achieve, and ultimately defend to something to which we have been entrusted in varying measures?  

As we take a closer look at this portrait of the life of the early Church, we discover what brought them together in fellowship is also what bonded them in their generous action as a community—thanksgiving. This socially and economically diverse group of people was animated by their awareness of the presence of God’s grace in their lives. Their hearts were softened and enlarged, and their hands became more open and compassionately far-reaching as they acknowledged all that we have and all that we are comes from the provision of the Creator to whom everything belongs.

More than this, they realized that God’s grace extends far beyond the daily provisions we often take for granted—the air we breathe, the food we eat, and the roofs over our heads. They perceived the grace of God even further in our Creator’s willingness to take on flesh in the person of Jesus Christ. Recognizing the gift of forgiveness and the offering of healing in the sacrifice of the Cross and the blessings of creation’s renewal in the empty tomb of the Resurrection, gratitude not only welled up inside them but naturally flowed out of their lives together.

Likewise, our unity in heart, mind, and action derives from our joint recognition of the divine grace we desperately need, are inexhaustibly given, and therefore have an abundance to share. From this acknowledgment, a collective outpouring of thanksgiving naturally flows. The reciprocal nature of gratitude is not about karma—doing good so that we might receive some good in return. The reciprocal nature of thanksgiving is an endless loop that is only possible by the grace of God. Because God is good, we give thanks. Because God is good to us, we give thanks by doing good for each other.

Gratitude is never passive. It moves from being an emotion or feeling to becoming a demonstration through our words or actions. Thankful people look for opportunities to share their gratitude by being generous toward others. They offer a smile, extend a hug, write a note, deliver a meal, meet a pressing need—not out of obligation but out of pure joy.

Fear, fatigue, and frustration can lead us to self-protectively circle the wagons and tend only to our own. While there is nothing inherently wrong with caring for our family and friends, we ought to be thankful enough for the ability to do so, and acknowledge that, ultimately, it is God who has and will continue to provide for them and us. Out of this gracious provision, our Creator assures us there is enough to be shared with others—beyond our circle—especially those in need.

True thanksgiving reminds us we are all in this together—that our achievements are never fully our own but contingent upon a network of relationships that uphold and shape us. And this sacred communion stems from being rooted in our most important and foundational relationship with our Creator. No matter what divides us, the grace of God is greater and promises to bring and hold us together if we abide and share the goodness of the One from whom all blessings flow. Let us then give thanks daily by reaching up gratefully toward heaven as we reach out in love, mercy, and compassion toward each other.  



Words: Chris Tweitmann

Images: Ricardo Gomez Angel, Jessica Furtney, Maksym Tymchyk

Grey, green, red, and yellow trees

Additional readings

Stewarding Creation

Respecting and celebrating the beauty and bounty of the world in which we share.

On Relinquishing Control, A Prayer for Anxiety

Reflective thoughts and study of Philippians 4:6-7 on how God is in control in the midst of anxiety.

Creativity as Devotional Practice

A reflection on how we can approach the creative process as a devotional practice.

Listening with Intention

Adapting our daily rhythms to hear where the Spirit is leading.


Additional readings

Stewarding Creation

Respecting and celebrating the beauty and bounty of the world in which we share.

On Relinquishing Control, A Prayer for Anxiety

Reflective thoughts and study of Philippians 4:6-7 on how God is in control in the midst of anxiety.

Creativity as Devotional Practice

A reflection on how we can approach the creative process as a devotional practice.

Listening with Intention

Adapting our daily rhythms to hear where the Spirit is leading.