Can We Thank God For Cake When Others Have No Bread?

Years ago when I was at the University of Illinois I took my friend Nordin out for a cup of coffee and dessert. Nordin, a fellow linguistics student and devout Muslim, grew up in Malaysia in circumstances you might consider poverty-stricken. He told me for example that when he came to America he had to teach his children how to flush a toilet.

When the waitress brought us our desserts - huge mounds of chocolate cake topped with ice cream and dripping with hot fudge - Nordin smiled and said, eyes shining, "Oh Paul. Who can look at this and not be thankful?"

I have quoted Nordin many times since. Though he meant his question to be rhetorical, I can think of some answers to it. Here are three kinds of people who can receive chocolate cake and not be thankful:

(1) Small-minded ingrates who think they deserve such luxuries. They complain when they don't get them but are not grateful when they receive them.

(2) Atheists who sincerely believe there is No One to thank. (They might thank the person who bought the cake, but not the Creator of Reality in which cake is enjoyed.)

(3) People who may or may not believe in God, but who deem it unseemly in any event to thank such a Being for trifles and luxuries while others are denied basic necessities.

I am not interested in the people in category 1. They are bad and should repent and learn to give thanks so that they will be less bad. As for the people in category 2, while I disagree with their premise I respect their intellectual consistency. For a response to the curious phenomenon of atheists who like to give thanks anyways (just whom are they thanking?), please see the February 3, 2009 essay, "I Need Somebody To Thank."

It is the people in category (3) who interest me the most and with whom I actually have some sympathy, despite the fact that (as my experience suggests) they tend to find gratitude like mine offensive, and sometimes they even respond to it with expressions of outrage that border on ill will. Their anger is understandable, since in their view my thankfulness is unseemly, and all unseemly behavior is wrong.

I recently saw an example of category 3 opposition to gratitude on the Facebook page of an old college friend who is now a professor of philosophy. He uploaded a poster with three panels. The first panel showed Britanny Spears receiving an award, and the caption read, "Thank you God for helping me win this award." The second panel showed Green Bay Packers wide receiver Greg Jennings kneeling on a football field and the caption read, "Thank you God for helping me score this touchdown." The third panel showed starving children in Africa. There was no caption.

I cannot say I know for certain what was the precise message that the creator of the poster wanted to convey. It may have been

(1) "God doesn't care about your Grammy awards and touchdowns. Look at these starving children! They are the ones God cares about. Rather than invoking the name of God in your victory over the Pittsburgh Steelers or Christina Aguilera you should devote yourself to God's true priorities: ministry to those who are desperately poor and needy."

Or,

(2) "How silly of you to think that there is a God who enables you to make millions catching a football or singing a song. Isn't it obvious that God does not exist? All that is necessary to demolish your Grammy-and-touchdown God is to take one good look at these starving children. If there were a loving Sky Fairy, certainly he would give these hungry children a sandwich before he would give you success in music or sports."

It was just such a photograph of African starvation that proved pivotal in Charles Templeton's departure from Christian faith. Templeton was an evangelist and pastor, and a colleague and friend of Billy Graham. He converted to atheism in the mid 1950s, citing among other things a picture in Life Magazine of a mother in Africa with her starving child. Long story short, Templeton concluded, "There is no God."

I have written lengthy responses to such standard challenges to theism (See "The Tsunmai and Faith," parts 1 and 2, January 4 and 9, 2005; "The Goodness of God and the Horror of Haiti," January 19, 2010; and "Why I Believe in the Goodness of God," January 26, 2010). I will not repeat those points here. My focus is more narrow. If there is a God, and all the wretched suffering in the world has not caused us to disbelieve his existence, should it at least give us pause with regard to thanking him? Is it right to thank God for cake while others die for lack of bread?

Yes, I think you should still thank God for cake. And for touchdowns, Grammys, and whatever else brings you joy that is neither ill-gotten nor perverse. Free yourself from the inhibition that would stifle your instinct to say "Oh, thank you GOD!" whenever you get something nice. That restraint and its puritanical enforcers among the category 3 non-thankers exude an air of righteousness dignity, but it's all just smoke and fog. Indulge. Give thanks. Rejoice in the Lord.

If you are tempted to pull back from giving thanks because of the indignation and intimidation of category 3 non-thankers, I should warn you that their objections to your thanksgiving will probably not stop at trifles. I have seen it extend all the way to life itself. For example, in a January 4, 2005 Chicago Tribune column Eric Zorn confessed his impatience with a friend who thanked God for answered prayer that his loved ones in Sri Lanka survived the great tsunami. This gratitude, Zorn explained, implied a judgment on those who suffered: clearly they did not praise and beg God sufficiently. Zorn took a similar shot at "civic and religious leaders [who] thank God for steering tornadoes around their little towns." Do you see? In order to satisfy a category 3 non-thanker you would have to stifle your gratitude not only for touchdowns and Grammys but for the simple fact that you're still alive. That pretty well covers the range from trivial to vital, doesn't it. If you asked a category 3 non-thanker, "Is there anything I could thank God for where it wouldn't bother you?" I believe the honest answer would be "No. Anything you thank God for is something that somebody somewhere in the world didn't get. That makes your thanksgiving immoral. So stop offending me with it."

Category 3 restraint on gratitude conceals at its a core a massive black hole which, unchecked, consumes all gratitude, and with it, the joy and goodwill that appreciation creates within us. The danger is real. But spontaneous thankers know something that the enemies of gratitude do not: Today, I have a joy where you have a lament, and tomorrow, you will have a joy that I have lost or can never achieve. In the meantime let us all give thanks for whatever we can whenever we can. When I cry out in pain or mourn a great loss you can cry with me; when you give thanks for some delight that I can never experience maybe I can be a little happy for you. There's no point in all of us crying all the time.

The ad campaign for St. Jude Children's Hospital gets it right. I used to see their commercials in movie theaters: "Give thanks for the healthy children in your life, and give to those who are not." Give thanks...and give. Gratitude spurs charity in ways that self-righteous ingratitude never seems to match. For anecdotal proof, look up Greg Jennings, the football player whose devotion to God is lampooned in the poster that shows his kneeling form next to starving children. I just googled him. Yes, Jennings has the gall to say "Glory to God" after his team wins the Super Bowl despite the fact that children are simultaneously dropping dead of starvation in Africa. He is also, the news reports say, a classy guy with a great attitude who is devoted to his family and very actively involved in charity. Among other things he donates $1,000 to a shelter for women and single mothers every time he catches a touchdown pass. Score one for an uninhibited thanker of God.