Ah, Thanksgiving. glorious, wonderful Thanksgiving is here again. Perhaps Henri Nouwen, the late Dutch priest, was correct. Perhaps Thanksgiving is, indeed, our purest and simplest holiday. Sadly, Christmas for too many of us has become distorted by consumer madness, endless lists and obligations, and far, far too many pressures. And too many of us have become unable to distinguish Easter from "spring break," beach vacations, and so many chocolate bunnies. But Thanksgiving is pure in its simplicity. As a nation, as a people, we simply stop for a moment each year and we give thanks.

My personal Thanksgiving is a memory-filled collage of the great joy of a large, extended family. I was born in a fortunate generation - close enough to know the pleasure of the farm and rural, agricultural Cobb County, but a generation removed from actually having to live by the sweat of my brow. Thanksgiving often brought sons and sons-in-law to the family farm on County Line Road to kill the fatted hog. I remember the sharp retort of the rifle, the fatal blow of the axe, and the large tripod over the boiling black pot. I remember the scraping of the hide and I remember when it was all over, the fragrance of the smokehouse. No citizen of this world who has ever smelled the inside of a farm smokehouse will ever, ever forget that magnificent aroma. There is nothing like it in all the world. Followed then the requisite feast and the joys of three and four thankful generations together.

But Thanksgiving is not without its own distortions and temptations, so we have to be careful. It, too, can be cast aside as a mere springboard to Christmas shopping; and it can be distorted by our stubbornness in acknowledging its truths.

To be sure, we are thankful in this season. But thankful for what?

Most of us who have heard a Thanksgiving sermon in church have heard the apocryphal story of the minister who led his congregation in prayer on Thanksgiving and began listing the things for which the community should give thanks.

"First," he prayed, "we are thankful for our good health." But some had chronic illnesses and others nursed children and parents who were not well and were not going to get well. They began quietly to get out of their pews and creep to the door.

"And we are thankful for our families," he continued.

But some were estranged from their families. This one did not know where a son was living; another was faced with divorce, yet another had been abused as a child and had severed communication with family members years earlier. Those three and several others crept quietly to the doorway and made their way into the churchyard.

"And we are thankful for good jobs and the ability to care for our families." But some had lost their jobs. Plants had closed, layoffs had been announced and payrolls had been trimmed. Paychecks, if they came at all, were small and sporadic. And so another few made their way to the exits. But the minister went on, and when he finished his prayer and opened his eyes, the sanctuary of the church was empty.

He followed his saddened congregation outside and asked why so many had left.

"Why are you here? Why are you not inside on Thanksgiving Day?"

They responded, "Because you are thanking God for things, things which we do not have."

And he understood. Immediately, he understood.

"They let us go back inside," he said. "And instead of thanking God for what God has not promised and for what we do not have, let us instead thank God for the things that endure. We will thank God for hope, for peace, for courage, and for God's presence among us."

And the congregation of the little church made its way into the church and celebrated thanksgiving together.

Perhaps the downturn in the economy reminds us that we are not promised a rising tide and increasing profits. Perhaps a sickness reminds us that we are not guaranteed good health. Perhaps a personal loss reminds us that we are not assured tranquility and unending happiness.

To be sure, there are some profound joys and celebrations in life, among them family, career, and good health. And people of faith see God in those things and give thanks. But we give thanks despite our circumstances for the things of God that are eternal, which define us as a people. We are thankful for hope. We are thankful for peace and courage. And we are thankful for the presence of God among us.

Simply put, my prayer for you and your loves ones is for a hopeful, peaceful Thanksgiving.

The Rev. Dr. Sam R. Matthews is a native of Acworth and has been the senior pastor of First United Methodist Church of Marietta for the past six years.