Thanksgiving. Gratitude. A thing that is often portrayed as a positive attitude, a good way of responding to life, a way of remaining optimistic. Gratitude journals. Thank you circles. Prayers before meals. Turkey dinners. Stuffing. Pilgrims. Heartburn.
That kind of thank you is categorically opposed to Elijah’s thank you. It is impersonal and typically offered for things that are pleasant to the one offering it. Butterflies. Rainbows. The bacon wrapped filet mignon. My Tesla. My good health. My promotion. The growth of my cryptocurrency. That kind of gratitude disintegrates in solitary confinement. There is just no hope for it. No room for it.
True thanksgiving begins when we give up the narrative of our false self. One often finds their identity in the ongoing story of “me” that is endlessly playing in one’s head. This story or narrative is one’s false self… their ego. One finds their identity in this narrative. The ongoing self-talk that one thinks is the sum of who they are. And so the story of me keeps me… well… focused on me.
Did you see how that person looked at me? I deserve better. Wow… people really like how I did that. I must therefore be lovable. I am a person who is punctual. I am always on time and I expect others to be on time as well. My time is important and valuable… because I am important. I can’t believe that I failed that class. I must therefore be a failure. I am finally dating someone. I am finally feeling less lonely… kind of. Great job self on that last presentation. I must therefore be relevant. What am I in the mood for— what fun can I have? I must therefore be free to do whatever I want.
And so the narrative of the false self keeps building a false identity. One comes to believe that they are what they think of themselves. The ego has a way of protecting itself from a narrative that may be too difficult to bear. And so those dark parts of the story we try to avoid… or shove away into deeper, more hidden places. And yet, they end up being part of our narrative, the story of ourselves… our ego… our identity.
Guilt and shame emerge to the surface. We hate who we are, and yet do our best to present ourselves in the image we have made of ourselves. And yes… we expect others to bow down before this image in adoration and worship. And when they don’t… it can get quite ugly… to say the least.
And yet, the most fundamental reality about one’s identity is that it is completely hidden in Christ. And so, one cannot actually know oneself unless it be revealed to them by Christ Himself. For what He says about a person is the truth of that person. What He proclaims about a person IS their identity. Therefore, one’s identity is completely out of their possession… in fact, one’s identity is completely given. Everything about one’s existence is given.
It is only when one embraces their “givenness” that one can begin to enter into real thanksgiving. As long as one holds on to the narrative of the false self, anything that threatens or challenges one’s false identity or ego will cause a violence to emerge in order to protect and defend the story of me. The fear of being snuffed out. The fear of being irrelevant or unlovable… these fears emerge because of one’s attachment to the narrative. The story of me— it must be protected at all costs.
Therefore, how can one give thanks when thrown into a pit? How can solitary confinement be a place of praise and thanksgiving… it can’t until one rejects the life of the ego… forgets about the narrative and embraces their true identity given to them by Christ.
Givenness.

ዐረገ ውስተ አርያም ፄዊወከ ፄዋ
ወወሀብከ ፀጋከ ለዕጓለ እመሕያው
እስመ ይክህዱ ከመ ይኅድሩ።

ወደ ላይ ዐረግህ ምርኮን ማረክህ ስጦታንም ለሰዎች ሰጠህ ደግሞም ለዐመፀኛዎች በዚያ ያድሩ ዘንድ።
መዝ 67፡18