The truth is that I don’t always feel particularly thankful. When something discouraging, frustrating or disappointing happens, of course it’s hard to feel grateful.  That’s not to say that I don’t believe I should be grateful to God in the midst of all circumstances; but I fail to do it as well as I know I should. What’s even sadder, though, is that often when everything is going smoothly I forget to stop and really acknowledge God.  As President Lincoln’s Thanksgiving Proclamation of 1863 so eloquently put it, our many blessings are “so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come.”

Not feeling thankful is a symptom of the disease of sin. In fact, we might say that ingratitude is at the heart of all sin.  St. Paul describes our falling away from God in terms of failing to glorify and give thanks to God (Rom. 1:21). It may have begun with Adam just forgetting to say, “thank you.” Little by little he came to take what he had for granted, then to think that he deserved it. Finally, he came to believe that it was his by right, and, after all, why shouldn’t he take what he wanted when everything was for him? The slippery slope begins in ingratitude and ends in atrocities committed against God and man.  On the other hand, as Fr. Alexander Schmemann put it, “Everyone capable of thanksgiving is capable of salvation and eternal joy.”

So what do we do about not feeling as grateful as we should? First of all, we recognize that in this case (and in many cases), our feelings fall short of what they should be.  Second, we accept that gratitude is the normal, healthy state for us and pray that God would restore us to that state. Third, we struggle – despite whatever we may feel – to behave gratefully. How does a grateful person behave? He thanks God for his dinner, even it was cold or too salty. He also thanks whoever cooked his dinner. He’s glad he had dinner at all. He responds graciously to every act of kindness, however small, even if his pride is wounded (as in the case where someone corrects something he says). He remembers to pray for those who have blessed him. He fights hard against self-pity, for self-pity and the grumpiness it produces will kill the spirit of gratitude. 

In other words, gratitude is connected with repentance. President Lincoln understood that, which is why he recommended that the American people set aside the last Thursday of November as a day to thank and praise “our beneficent Father” with “humble penitence,” keeping in mind both our sins and God’s great mercy. We might even think of gratitude as a kind of repentance, which is, after all, returning to God.  The Lord cleansed ten lepers, but only one returned to Him, fell at His feet, and thanked Him (Luke 17). His healing was therefore more profound.

Giving thanks is thus the journey back to the Father’s house; but it is also the celebration when we get there. The center of our life in the Church is the most eloquent thanksgiving of all: the Eucharistic feast. If we are living as Christians, we are living Eucharistically. And if we are living Eucharistically, we are doing so all the time, even if we are prisoners in a Communist prison camp.  Protopresbyter Gregory Petrov composed the akathist hymn known as “Glory to God for All Things” prior to his death in a prison camp. His words are the medicine I need when I don’t quite feel as grateful as I should:

"I was born a weak, defenseless child, but Thine angel spread his wings over my cradle to defend me. From birth until now Thy love has illumined my path, and has wondrously guided me towards the light of eternity; from birth until now the generous gifts of Thy providence have been marvelously showered upon me. I give Thee thanks, with all who have come to know Thee, who call upon Thy name…Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age!"