Skip to main content

Saying Thanks

I had just finished my run (which in actuality is as much a walk as run), when I met a guy I know in the parking lot.  We exchanged greetings and both headed into the Recreation Center.  He was ready for his exercise and I was going to shower and head home.  So we walked in together and headed right on into the locker room.  He is not a close friend, but I was happy to see him and chit chat.

He is somewhat involved in athletics, so we have that in common.  And of course, that is the easiest place for the conversation to ensue.  We did not have sufficient time to solve the world’s problems, so we settled on solving the dinky problems within the college athletic system!  He is fairly aware of some of the things I do for the athletic department, so the conversation was going to end there.  I was robed with only a towel and was turning to head to the shower. 

“Thank you for all you do for the kids,” he said.  I was caught up short.  “Seriously,” he continued, “I am thankful for what you do and I know the kids are appreciative, too.”  I was floored.  He could have handed me $100 and I would not have been more pleased than I was hearing his words.  I nodded, expressed some kind of gratitude and headed on to the shower.  But I had been touched. 

How simple that act of his had been.  And yet how powerful its impact on me had been.  Truly, I don’t know what it was worth.  Was it really a $100 gift?  To me it was, but I have enough money and I have a salary.  So I get money on a regular basis.  But there is no predictability to being thanked.   

Oh, I know people predictably thank us in the normal social exchange of life.  When I stop each morning and buy coffee, I thank the clerk for assisting me in my daily fix.  But that is perfunctory.  Of course, I mean it.  But it does not come from the depth of my heart.  It is a cup of coffee and I paid for it. 

The guy in the locker room offered his thanks to me for no predictable reason.  I had done nothing for him.  He has never been in a class with me.  He does not need me for anything and I don’t really give him anything.  There is no social exchange as there is in the purchase of coffee.  When I buy coffee, I owe the lady a word of thanks.  But there was nothing to precipitate his gracious words to me. 

But I was touched.  Part of the delight was the surprise of it.  Certainly I know what all I do for a variety of people around my campus.  And clearly I am getting paid a good base amount for what I do.  And in some cases, I know I go above and beyond the necessary effort to fulfill my contractual obligations.  I know all that and I am ok with it.  I don’t go around looking for people to thank me.  I know I am not the only one around.  A great number of people are doing exactly what I am doing, but in their own contexts. 

I know all of this is true, but I also know how much I was touched by his simple gesture.  Indeed, it was so simple.  It cost him nothing.  He lost nothing in doing it.  It was not obligatory.  Had he not thanked me, I would never have thought a moment about it.  I would not be poorer if he had not thanked me. 

It was pure gift.  “Tis a gift to be simple” goes the old Shaker hymn.  How true!  All I was going to do was take a shower and go home.  I did that.  But I took so much more with me.  I took a heart that had been touched.  I was smiling for no apparent reason.  Joy is such a rich emotion.  It is a kind of elixir.  I had been drugged and could still pass a drug test! 

This seems inherently spiritual, as I reflect on it.  To take it to that level may make it seem more momentous than it really was.  But that is the spiritual point.  It was not momentous; it was utterly simple.  A mere two words had changed me.  Oh, it was not a conversion.  But maybe, it was a tiny touch of heaven.  To have a touch of the heavenly while still here is a great gift. 

After all, we live in a world where there are so many of us making life hell for ourselves and countless others.  In my estimation, hell is a given.  Heaven will have to be chosen, created, and offered as gift.  This guy has taken on angelic proportions the way I am telling the story.  But that is precisely what I think happened. 

I went into the Rec Center with some guy I know.  In the process he became angelic and offered evangelical good words (“thank you”) and put me momentarily into a heavenly space.  And then I took a shower. 

But it did not rub off.  I can still remember it and appreciate it and celebrate it.  It was so simple.  It was a gift.  And I can do the same to others.  There is no patent on spiritual goodness.  Love lavishly by saying thanks. 

This is the last inspirational journey until Monday after Thanksgiving

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I-Thou Relationships

Those of us who have read theology or, perhaps, those who are people of faith and are old enough might well recognize this title as a reminder of the late Jewish philosopher and theologian, Martin Buber.   I remember reading Buber’s book, I and Thou , when I was in college in the 1960s.   It was already a famous book by then.   I am not sure I fully understood it, but that would not be the last time I read it.   It has been a while since I looked at the book.             Buber came up in a conversation with a friend who asked if I had seen the recent article by David Brooks?   I had not seen it, but when I was told about it, I knew I would quickly locate and read that piece.   I very much like what Brooks decides to write about and what he contributes to societal conversation.   I wish more people read him and took him seriously.           ...
13 comments
Read more

Spiritual Commitment

I was reading along in a very nice little book and hit these lines about commitment.   The author, Mitch Albom, uses the voice of one of the main characters of his nonfiction book about faith to reflect on commitment.   The voice belongs to Albom’s old rabbi of the Jewish synagogue where he went until his college days.   The old rabbi, Albert Lewis, says “the word ‘commitment’ has lost its meaning.”    The rabbi continues in a way that surely would have many people saying, “Amen!”   About commitment he says, “I’m old enough when it used to be a positive.   A committed person was someone to be admired.   He was loyal and steady.   Now a commitment is something you avoid.   You don’t want to tie yourself down.”   I also think I am old enough to know that commitment was usually a positive word.   I can think of a range of situations in which commitment would have been seen to be positive.   For example, growing up was f...
20 comments
Read more

Inward Journey and Outward Pilgrimage

There are so many different ways to think about the spiritual life.   And of course, in our country there are so many different variations of religious experiences.   There are liberals and conservatives.   There are fundamentalists and Pentecostals.   Besides the dizzying variety of Christian traditions, there are many different non-Christian traditions.   There are the major traditions, such as Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, and so on.   There are the slightly more obscure traditions, such as Sikhism, Jainism, etc.   And then there are more fringe groups and, even, pseudo-religions.   There are defining doctrines and religious practices.   Some of these are specific to a particular tradition or a few traditions, such as the koan , which is used in Zen Buddhism for example.   Other defining doctrines or practices are common across the religious board.   Something like meditation would be a good example.   Christians meditate;...
10 comments
Read more