The Gratitude Ladder (Gratitude VI)

Gratitude can become a habit that shapes our soul and forms our character. By giving us spiritual eyes to see, it can change our lives. But it’s like climbing a ladder where the first rung is the easiest. The training gets harder the higher we climb. 

The Good

The first step is giving thanks for the good.

What can you give thanks for that is easy to give thanks for? Friends and family, a beautiful world, good food. Let your heart savor your thanksgiving. Giving thanks is satisfying, like a good meal. Getting our focus off of ourselves calms our souls, because thanksgiving is always a movement away from ourselves and into a reality bigger than ourselves. We are made to feel peace and even joy when our focus is on something other than our own selves. 

It helps if we embody our gratitude through the practice of delight.[1] Delight is the act of intentional enjoying and savoring a good thing. Rik Watts says that every time we enjoy good chocolate or coffee, we should give thanks to the passionate God of Life, whose gifts remind us how good, passionate, and loving He is.[2] It’s like the wonderful (if misattributed) quote from Ben Franklin: “Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.”[3] We are often, unfortunately, a people suspicious of delight because a fear of pleasure (or a fear of its abuse) has been instilled in us. Greek philosophy—or, more accurately, radicalized Greek philosophy—has influenced Western culture towards the belief that the material world is evil and that, therefore, we should be suspect of the body and its pleasures. This worldview, sadly, has infected Western history like a virus. As H.L. Mencken says, “Puritanism [is] the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.”[4] But the rabbis said that man will give an account before God for every pleasure that he refused to enjoy as an act of worship.[5] Imagine embracing delight with thanksgiving, an act of worship before the Living God of Love. How would that change your life? 

Jesus was certainly more like a grateful rabbi and less like a stodgy Puritan; he didn’t fear pleasure. When you are grounded in the love of God, you are free to rejoice and enjoy. In the words of Augustine, “Love God and do what you like.”[6] In thanksgiving—both with our words and also in the enjoyment of God’s good world—we enter into a posture of gratitude that connects us to the Divine and frees us from anxious moralism or legalistic fear.

Let us be a people of delight, and let us give thanks at all times, demonstrating to the world what it means to be a satisfied and grateful people. Let us be a people who give thanks for all the good things around us. This is the first rung of the ladder. 

The Bad

The ladder gets steeper; the next rung is higher and more difficult to climb. This rung is giving thanks for the things that are bad—or, rather, for the things that seem bad to us. We may discover, however, that though these things try our souls, there’s also a gift within them. They present opportunities to transform our souls as we anchor ourselves in trust, even if it feels like death. As Paul says, “Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day.”[7]

Giving thanks for the bad doesn’t mean faking it or “keeping a stiff upper lip.” We are often sent—by life and by Scripture—into mourning and lament. We will not always and immediately jump into gratitude without a journey through sorrow. But Scripture also makes clear that sorrow leads to joy, and the more quickly we can embrace, with gratitude, even those things which most challenge our souls, the more it will fuel our transformation.[8] If the Israelites in the desert had chosen trust and gratitude, it would have sped them to the Promised Land much more quickly. 

Paul once again provides us with an anchor. In Philippians 1, he begins by giving thanks for what God has done in the past and up until the present. This is the first rung of the ladder, something easy to give thanks for. But in verse 29, he pulls a stunning turn. He calls his present suffering a privilege. He will go on to say elsewhere, “Give thanks in all circumstances.”[9]

Paul sees that our lives are held by a God who knows and loves us such that whatever may happen, we’re going to be perfectly fine as we cling to Him. Whatever may happen, of course, includes a lot of hellish stuff that you and I will not enjoy or like. Heck, Jesus prophesied that Peter would be crucified. But in the same breath, he pointed to the reality that, even then, Peter would be alright.[10] Can you imagine that? It’s exactly this trust—this seeing beyond—that allowed Jesus himself to face his crucifixion with such courage and hope, in spite of his hating it all the while. 

This is the path of maturity: giving thanks that we are going to be perfectly okay because of who God is, even in the midst of the storm. It sounds like craziness, and without a revelation of the God who suffers with us, it is. But if you know that God, it all makes sense. James says it like this: 

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.[11]

The principle is: When you can give thanks not just for the good, but also for the things you would naturally hate and resist, you’re firmly planting yourself in the grace and mercy of God. You’re off to the races. When you give thanks rather than complaining, it’s like nitrous to the engine of your character. It will keep you from drifting like Israel in the desert. It will keep your heart soft. 

And yet, is there anything as unnatural as giving thanks for the challenges in life? This is certainly not a habit we waltz into. It’s something we learn as we embody trust through the practice of gratitude.

When my friend John was waiting for a final diagnosis to find out if he had a brain tumor—before he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (which, thank God, is much more treatable)—I remember his wife, Barbara, saying to me, “Whatever this is, we are praying for grace to walk it out well.” I was stunned. I was caught up in sorrow and worry and fear. So were they, and much more. Yet they were also centered in God. They were not rejoicing over a brain tumor, but with inner eyes they were seeing that there’s a reality bigger than death, and they wanted to walk in faith well, trusting their God, even if it was terrifying beyond words. 

I knew this response was not some fly-by-night reaction mustered up for the first time, like a pilot on his inaugural flight immediately looping crazy eights. To respond with such grace in such a crisis was the result of thousands of smaller choices all along the way, of giving thanks through suffering, of learning the pattern of resurrection life so that, when a tidal wave came, they were still able to live in that pattern of trust and hope. They already know the pattern of resurrection, even though they still live on the near side of death.

This is the kind of gratitude and trust that we can live into now, embodying our trust in a daily practice of gratitude that places our souls firmly in the hands of God.

The Ugly 

There remains yet another rung on the ladder, and it’s often the hardest of all to reach. It’s giving thanks for the ugly within us. 

The opposite of gratitude may be lack of gratitude, but such ingratitude always has a deeper source, such as shame or self-hatred. Often, we have trouble giving thanks to God because we don’t actually believe there could be a place of acceptance for us in God, as ugly and displeasing as our hearts and thoughts can be. Butrefusing to judge and hate the parts of us we don’t like and instead giving thanks for them is one of the highest signals of spiritual maturity. By this, we confess that only God can transform us and, thereby, become more aware of our adoption in God. When we can focus on God and His lavish goodness rather than our own selves, we are living into the life of Christ. 

This is, in part, why Paul says, “I don’t even judge myself” and why he boasts in his weakness.[12] He knows that it’s a waste of time to flagellate ourselves. It’s much better to turn that energy to God, shaking our head and saying, “Wow, how can you be so good to adopt me when I’m so incomplete!”

It’s not that we’re giving thanks for our weakness because we like it; it’s that we are rejoicing because we can’t be whole apart from God and because He proclaims adoption over us and brings us near while we’re still unsorted. This is good news, indeed. It’s not our own efforts that transform us; it’s seeing the God of Love. A daily, weekly, monthly, yearly practice full of unhurried contemplation allows us to see God and be transformed by Him. It empowers us to love others as He does. And this contemplation will always be anchored in gratitude and a refusal to hate or judge ourselves as we instead stand in awe of our Good and Kind Father. 

Again, this doesn’t come naturally. Far from it. But resistance to our weakness only strengthens darkness. When we can give thanks not only for the good, but also for the unsorted and incomplete about us, we will find an immense reserve of spiritual power available to us. By refusing to judge our weakness, we empower the Holy Spirit to deal with it. And when we can rejoice in our weakness, darkness can have very little grasp on us. Our rejoicing and gratitude removes any foothold. You can trust this spiritual law as you trust a law of physics, like gravity. Giving thanks reorients and, when consistently practiced, literally rewires our brain.

For all of these readings in one place, order my book 'Learning to Live and Love Like Jesus.'

[1] See “The Heart of Sabbath” in ‘Chapter 9, The Slow Life: Sabbath.’

[2] I’m paraphrasing thoughts I’ve heard Dr. Watts use twice in conferences I’ve attended.

[3] The actual quote, apparently, is: "Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards, and which incorporates itself with the grapes to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy." See Bryce Eddings in https://www.thespruce.com/beer-is-proof-that-god-loves-us-and-wants-us-to-be-happy-353267 [July 21, 2017]

[4] Henry Lewis Menken as qtd. in Puritanism in Tudor England. Porter, H.C., ed. Macmilland and Co, Ltd. London, England. 1970. Page 7.

[5] This account is not present in the Talmud itself and its provenance is suspect, but I heard it first-hand from one of my professors, who was also a rabbi, at Jerusalem University College.

[6] A modern rendering of Augustine’s quote from his “Seventh Homily on The Epistle of First John” and reminiscent of Paul’s quote in Romans 13:10 that “love is the fulfillment of the law.” The full quote: “Once for all, then, a short precept is given thee: Love, and do what thou wilt: whether thou hold thy peace, through love hold thy peace; whether thou cry out, through love cry out; whether thou correct, through love correct; whether thou spare, through love do thou spare: let the root of love be within, of this root can nothing spring but what is good.” Qtd. in Justification: A Guide for the Perplexed by Alan J. Spence. T&T Clark International, London, England, 2012. Page 153.

[7] 2 Corinthians 4:16.

[8] Psalm 30:5.

[9] I Thessalonians 5:18.

[10] John 21:18.

[11] James 1:2-4.

[12] I Corinthians 4:3 and 2 Corinthians 12:9. Again, refraining from judging ourselves has nothing to do with excusing or giving into bad behavior.