At times, it’s more blessed to receive

By Patricia Templeton, reprint from AJC
Every Sunday of my childhood, my priest would stand before our congregation just before the offering was taken up and say these words, “Remember the words of our Lord Jesus, how he said it was more blessed to give than to receive.”

It wasn’t until years later in seminary that I realized there is no record in scripture of Jesus actually saying those words. What we have is Paul, who never met the earthly Jesus, attributing the words to him.

So maybe Jesus said it and maybe he didn’t. Whatever. Regardless of who said it the sentiment is deeply ingrained in not only most Christians, but most Americans.
Giving is good. Receiving, not so much.

But an experience my family had two summers ago changed the truth of that sentiment for me. My husband unexpectedly had to undergo major surgery with a significant recovery time.

I’ve spent much of the last two decades being with people going through similar situations. When the roles were reversed, I was very uncomfortable.

“No, that’s OK, I’ll be fine,” I said, when members of the congregation offered to sit with me in the hospital during the surgery. “No, we won’t need food,” I assured others. “Really, I’ve got the child care under control.”

In every case, my parishioners looked at me, nodded and went ahead mobilizing support for my family.

And thank God they did.

Here is what I learned from that experience. Yes, it is blessed to give. But there are times when it is also a true blessing to receive.

Every person who came to the hospital, every meal delivered to our door, every card and e-mail and call and prayer, every offer to entertain our son, was a tangible blessing, a reminder that we were loved.

I have no doubt that all of those tangible blessings hastened my husband’s recovery and helped all of us through a difficult period in our lives.

I learned something else, too. Having experienced the blessing of receiving makes me want to share that blessing with others. That, in a nutshell, is the theology of giving.

There are many reasons for people to be altruistic, to give, to do good deeds or be concerned for the welfare of others. Sometimes we do good because it makes us feel good. Sometimes we do it out of guilt or in the secret hopes that we are earning our way to salvation. Sometimes we may do it with the hope that when we are in need someone will help us. Sometimes, if we are honest, we do it because it makes us feel superior, or in control.

But for people of faith, scripture gives another motivation for doing good and for giving — we do it in grateful response to the blessings we have received.
It’s a theology that began with the biblical patriarch Abraham. I’m going to make of you a great people, God tells him. Your descendants will inhabit a land flowing with milk and honey. They will be greatly blessed.

But, God adds, with great blessing comes great responsibility. The blessings aren’t to be hoarded away, they are to be shared with the world.

It’s a theme God comes back to again and again. It’s a theology with which Jesus, a great Jewish teacher, was quite familiar. Love one another as God loves you, he tells his followers. Do good in grateful response to the love and blessings that God has given you.

Several weeks ago our son, now 9, asked me, “Mama, do you remember when Dad was in the hospital?”

“Yes, I remember,” I responded.

“Do you know what was really cool about that?” he asked. “People brought us a lot of free food for a long time.”

The blessings of two years ago continue. A time that I feared would be burned into my child’s psyche as an awful memory was transformed into something “really cool” by the love shown to us.

And so on this day of Thanksgiving, I beg to differ with Paul and Jesus. It is, indeed, a blessing to give. But today I am deeply grateful for the blessings I have received.

The Rev. Patricia Templeton is rector of St. Dunstan’s Episcopal Church in Atlanta.

What Are You Thankful For?

There are people sometimes missing around the Thanksgiving table, those we love who have died or who are maybe in the military or just spread out across the country. As the faces shift in and out, the customs change – maybe one generation adds a pea and olive salad, which eventually takes the place of a tomato aspic shaped like a fish. In our family, Thanksgiving was usually at my grandmother’s -- when she died 10 years ago, it shifted to my house, and so on.

But one thing that doesn’t change is the reason we gather together--to be thankful. Every year we go around the table and each say what we’re thankful for. I’d like to share some thankfulness from our house and invite you to share yours.

So, this year is the first I can remember with my six-year-old nephew Candler, sweet husky-sized boy with one front tooth, participating in the speaking of thanks. He immediately began thinking, looking for the correct answer, as if there could be only one perfect, right Thankful. Finally, knowledge lit up his chubby face “I know! Life! I’m thankful to be alive!”

His three-year-old brother Oliver concurred, “And not go to the hospital.” Candler, as the big brother, often interprets for Ollie. “He keeps remembering ‘hospital’, he’s obsessed with it.” A few months back, the boys were in a fender bender, where Candler had to be taken to the hospital for bumps and bruises.

We all had our regular thankfuls -- being together, food, health, jobs, new babies. But I have to agree with Candler, my very favorite thankful this year is nothing more -— and certainly nothing less--than life. Watching my son Wolfie driving the boys around the back yard in that old jeep he basically built scratch, the little men taking turns in his lap “driving,” with me leaning over the rail calling down “watch the azaleas!”

And I’m also really really thankful for everyone in the parish and Patricia and Joe, and for getting through this quite interesting year. What are your thankfuls?

Fall Photo Essay, Nov. 21

It’s true what they say—sometimes a picture does paint a thousand words. So instead of writing out a description today, I’m offering the real life images from this 26^th Sunday after Pentecost at St. Dunstan’s.

Some people feel claustrophobic in churches with humanmade stained glass windows, I’ve heard that. We never have that problem at St. Dunstan’s. God changes out the stained glass every Sunday—look at the red leaves through the windows above the altar. The person in the pic is Colin Brown, lay reader in the early service this morning.

After the service, I nabbed Peachy, our master gardener, to model the flaming euonomous bushes. Drive into St. D’s parking lot this week and see for yourself.

In the kitchen, I was offered two large plates of goodies by Nancy Dillon and Keith Latimore, who were on duty for coffee time.

Here’s Sunday School. Most of you were there but if you missed because you were busy doing coffee time or something like that, here’s our packed class being riveted by Paul Franklyn, associate publisher of a new translation of the scripture. The Common English Bible will be published next year, which is the 400^th anniversary of the King James Version beloved by so many. A taste of some of the changes: Son of Man is translated as the Human One. We all received a copy of the New Testament.

An excerpt, the Lord’s Prayer:

“When you pray, don’t pour out a flood of empty words, as the Gentiles do. They think that by saying many words they’ll be heard. You shouldn’t be like them, because your Father knows what you need before you ask. Pray like this:

Our Father who is in heaven,

Uphold the holiness of your name.

Bring in your kingdom

So that your will is done on earth as it’s done in heaven.

Give us the bread we need for today.

Forgive us for the ways we have wronged you,

Just as we also forgive those who have wronged us.

And don’t lead us into temptation,

But rescue us from the evil one.

“If you forgive others their sins, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you don’t forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your sins.

And here’s a pic right after class—Joe Monti, Paul Franklyn and Patricia.

As the regular service got underway, outside in the Beech Grove Sunday School kids played in the new fall leaves. Hey Mom and Dad! Wish you were here!

And here’s a sampling of Sunday School art.

Grace and peace!