Rejoice! We have olives!

I was making tuna salad for lunch and I asked my husband if he wanted olives.  (It’s not tuna for me without olives – or a holiday dinner or a picnic for that matter.)  He said “Okay” with a shrug in his voice.  That’s not the way I talk about olives.  I didn’t expect a song and dance, but “Great” or “Terrific” or even a hearty “Sure” would have been nice.  Yes, I know that all I had to do was open the refrigerator, get out the jar, open it and put a few olives on his plate.  But that’s not the point.  What do olive-loving children say when you ask them if they want olives?  What do almost all children say when you ask them if they want potato chips?

How many of you are gagging and feeling embarrassed for me?  Thank you for continuing to read.

If you are around children, particularly if they’re not yours, you see how much they enjoy things -- pizza, M and M’s, the letters in alphabet soup, riding past a field full of cows, stopping to wait for a train to go by.  (When they are yours, you worry about what the M and M’s will do to their teeth and wish that they wouldn’t count the number of cars with outdoor voices.)  I sometimes wonder if adults just don’t get excited (or at least pleased) by things, or if they do and are too embarrassed to say so, perhaps because they will be thought insincere or, even worse, silly.

Episcopalians are known as “the frozen chosen.”  We may not like the idea that people think we think we are chosen, but we have a sneaking, defensive pride in the “frozen” part.  We (almost) brag that most Episcopal priests are introverts.  (To which an evangelical might ask, “Then why did they become ministers?”  Beats me.)   When we call someone “sensible,” it is high praise.  “Very nice,” is on a level with "terrific". 

You may think that I am probably annoyingly perky (bad enough in a cheerleader, but even worse in a Senior Citizen), but that is my writing persona.  If you met me, you might think, “Doesn’t she ever open her mouth?”  And today I am Kathy Lee Gifford compared to my younger self.  But I have to admit that this is the face I would love to present to the world “live.”  

The point I am trying to make is not that I have issues of some kind, but that maybe we should be a little bolder and noisier in our liking of things.  (The “a little” makes this an Episcopalian comment.)  What do your prayers and hymns of thanks sound like?  What do you sound like?  Never mind the usual platitudes about gratitude.  We are all grateful, even if we don’t realize it.  But do we express it?  When a co-worker brings in donuts, how do you say thank you?,   When someone says, yes,  you  can pet their dog and the dog acts as if you made his day, how do you say thank you?  How to you say “Amen” when you receive the bread and wine at communion?

We are told that we should “pray without ceasing.” (1 Thessalonians 5:17) and that we should be “bold” as the Book of Common Prayer says we are when we say The Lord’s Prayer.   We can do this not with words but just by living and offering whatever we do to God.  Another way to pray is to be grateful for everything.  And to boldly show it.  God likes enthusiasm.

No matter what our parents or teachers have told us, let’s be bold in our thanksgiving.

Thanks so much for reading and commenting on this post.  I hope you think it is terrific or at least very nice.