Appreciation Month

The Thankful Heart of Christ

Prepared by Pastor Trevor Crenshaw

A cool autumn wind rustled the leaves, sending them dancing in a kaleidoscope of red and gold. Carl Lee, a grandfather whose hands were calloused from a lifetime of tending to the earth, sat on his porch swing, with a quiet smile on his face. He watched as his boisterous ten-year-old chased after the swirling leaves, convinced he could catch them all. Finally, out of breath and empty-handed, Carl’s grandson collapsed on the grass beside him. “I didn’t catch a single one,” he lamented, his voice thick with disappointment.

Carl Lee chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “You weren’t meant to catch them, Son. You were meant to be grateful for the dance.”

That simple phrase resonated with his grandson, a profound reminder that life’s greatest blessings are often not the things we grasp and hold tightly, but the moments we appreciate. It’s a lesson that finds its deepest resonance in the life of Jesus Christ, a life often seen through the lens of sacrifice and suffering rather than a life of profound and continuous thankfulness.

The Biblical Foundation of a Thankful Heart

When we consider the thankfulness of Christ, we must turn our attention to one of the most poignant moments in the Gospels: the feeding of the five thousand. In this miracle, as recorded in Mark 6:41, we read a simple, yet powerful, detail: “And taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and said a blessing and broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples to set before the people” (ESV). Before the miraculous multiplication, before the multitudes were fed, Jesus gave thanks.

This act of thanksgiving holds deep theological implications for us. Firstly, it reveals Christ’s utter dependence on the Father. He, who is God, did not act unilaterally. He did not simply snap His fingers and make the food appear. Instead, He modeled for us a posture of humility and reliance. He looked up to heaven, acknowledging that all good things, even the provision for a seemingly impossible need, comes from the Father’s hand. Christ’s dependence teaches us that our own lives, talents, and resources are not things to be hoarded or relied upon solely by our own strength. They are gifts to be received with thanks and offered back to God.

Secondly, Christ’s thanksgiving demonstrates that gratitude is not contingent on abundance. What He held in His hands was woefully inadequate for the task: five small loaves and two fish. Yet, He gave thanks for what He had, not for what He lacked. This type of gratitude is a powerful counter-cultural message. In a world that constantly tells us we need to acquire more in order to be happy, Jesus shows us that true contentment and joy are found in a heart that is grateful for the present moment and the present provisions, no matter how small they may seem. He teaches us that even in our insufficiency, God’s sufficiency is made manifest. The miracle wasn’t the food, but the thanks offered for it.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, this act of thanksgiving points us to the very nature of Christ’s mission. He came not to be served, but to serve (Mark 10:45). His thanksgiving was not a private prayer but a public act that preceded an act of service. He gave thanks for the broken bread, and in doing so, He prefigured His own body, which would be broken on the cross for the life of the world. His life, and ultimately His death, was the ultimate act of gratitude—a profound “yes” to the Father’s will, a thankful offering of Himself for our salvation.

The Transformative Implications of Generosity

So, what does this mean for us? It means that our faith is not merely about asking for more; it’s about being grateful for what we have been given. It means that we are called to be people who, amid our own insufficiencies and challenges, look up to heaven and give thanks. A thankful heart is a magnet for miracles. Not because our gratitude forces God’s hand, but because it aligns our hearts with His, opening us up to see His provision in ways we never thought possible.

Just as Carl Lee taught his grandson to be grateful for the dance of the leaves, Christ calls us to be grateful for the dance of life—for the small mercies, the unexpected joys, the simple provisions, and even the difficult seasons that shape us. Let us, like Christ, learn to offer thanks for the loaves and fishes in our hands, trusting that the God who multiplies will use our grateful offerings to feed not only ourselves, but the hungry world around us. In this posture of thanks, we find the true abundance of the Christian life.