Bill Johnson - Thanksgiving, A Lifestyle of Gratitude
Thankfulness is, like, the number one virtue that changes a person’s life—and dare I say, the entire nature of a city. I believe thankfulness can change the nature of a family line. Thankfulness is one of the most profound weapons that God has given us in our arsenal, and I hope to take you through a number of verses to show you some concepts on why God is building in us to be a thankful people. I think probably most everyone in the room would say, «I’m a thankful person.» Our problem is that we struggle to cultivate a thankful heart over all these things. We acknowledge God’s in charge; he’s the one who provided the job, gave us this child, or whatever it might be. We have our list of things for which we are thankful, but we almost all have something we’re not thankful for. We justify it because it’s the work of the enemy—something bad happened in our lives, this or that—and so we create a special category for those things, hoping that God will vindicate us. We don’t realize that in everything we are to give thanks. He didn’t say, «In almost everything give thanks,» nor did he say, «Just do your best.» He said, «In everything give thanks.»
So here’s this glaring problem—this conflict, this disappointment—whatever it might be is right here, and I’m cultivating thankfulness over here, but I’m unwilling to deal with this very thing that haunts me. What’s the problem? Any area of my life where I am unable or unwilling to give thanks will have a measure of influence and control over my life, and not for good. It will have a voice where it shouldn’t have a voice. God, why is this constantly tormenting me? Because you have not buried it in thankfulness. Why does this thing never go away? Because you’ve chosen not to express trust in that one thing. We pray about the problem, but we don’t often give thanks for the effect it’s having. If we could see Romans 8:28 more clearly, I believe we’d be much quicker to give thanks for the IRS audit, the bad medical report, the loss of employment, or whatever it might be—the stuff that goes on in all of our lives. He doesn’t ever tell us to be thankful for evil; rather, we are thankful that we have a sovereign God who can use what the enemy intended for evil for our benefit. It’s the expression of thankfulness that immerses that which is contaminated into the grace of God, allowing God to use it for our benefit.
In Psalms 100, he says, «I will enter his gates with thanksgiving in my heart; I will enter his courts with praise.» Thanksgiving is all about presence. I will enter his gates—where’s the destiny? The destiny is the throne room of God. Thanksgiving is the specific response to the actions of God—the works of God. Praise is our response to his nature, his character. Thankfulness has always been meant to introduce us to an increasing revelation of his nature. Moses said, «Let me know your ways that I might know you.» The revelation of nature is the invitation for encounter.
So when God gives us his protocol, it’s not a formula we use to manipulate God; it’s how he functions. It’s almost like this is what the presence of the Glorious One demands. His commandments are not restrictive; they’re not punishments; they are always invitations to life good. Every commandment is an invitation to greater experiences in the life of Christ. He gives us this mandate: enter his gates with thanksgiving, enter his courts with praise. What’s the result? We stand before the glory. Thankfulness is an expression of trust that keeps us conscious of the presence of God.
One of my favorite stories in the Bible is when Moses is on the mountain with Almighty God, face to face. He comes down with instructions for building the Tabernacle. But when he comes down, he sees Israel playing the harlot; they are in the most grotesque sin imaginable. He walks into the middle of that, does all kinds of things to restore order, and brings them to repentance, then builds what God showed him to build. The key verse for me is this: Moses built according to what he saw on the mountain. I believe I can accurately say that most believers catch a vision on the mountain and lose sight of it in the midst of a problem. Moses succeeded in building what he saw up there when he got down here. It’s the most challenging thing.
And what does thankfulness do? The specific acts of thanksgiving—not just the attitude of gratitude, which I think is vital—connect us to our history with God and help heal and restore memories as they are supposed to be embraced. Those memories help us carry on the mandate of the Lord. Moses did according to what he saw on the mountain, and it was the memory of that that helped him to be successful in his most perilous time. Thankfulness is what keeps us connected to our shared history with God.
I want you to look at John chapter 6 with me. We’ll go through a couple of verses. In this chapter, Jesus is feeding the 5,000. It says in verse 11, «And Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to the disciples and the disciples to those who were sitting down.» Verse 23 tells us that other boats came from Tiberias near the place where they ate bread after the Lord had given thanks. Can I get your attention here? The Holy Spirit marked the location. Here we have a place where Jesus multiplies food—thousands of people eat—after Jesus broke bread and gave thanks. The Holy Spirit wanted that place to be remembered. What was it remembered for? It was when Jesus took the loaves, broke them, and gave thanks.
What’s the point? What did he have? He had not enough, yet he gave thanks holding what was not enough. The sacrifice of Jesus was in response to human need. But the daily invasions of God are not according to human need; they’re according to faith and obedience. To ignore the protocol of God while attempting to grab hold of what we refuse to give thanks for marks a part of our life that we don’t need his grace in. In the midst of lack, Jesus gives thanks.
In verse 23, he says, «What’s that place called?» That’s the place where he took the bread and gave thanks—he gave thanks for what wasn’t enough. 1 Corinthians 11 is a good one; this is where Paul received revelation about the Lord’s Supper and communicated the greatest truths we have on the subject. In chapter 11 of 1 Corinthians, he said, «I received from the Lord that which I also delivered to you: that the Lord Jesus on the same night in which he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, 'Take and eat.'»
What’s the point? On the night Jesus was betrayed, he took bread and gave thanks. See, thankfulness took a situation of extreme lack in John 6 and turned it into extreme abundance, where they ended up with more than they started with in leftovers. Now, Jesus takes this moment—one of the most difficult times, where he has poured himself into 12 people over three and a half years—at the end of which one has better ideas and, for personal gain, sells the access he has to Jesus. On the night Jesus is betrayed, he’s fully aware of what Satan inspired Judas to do. He breaks the bread and gives thanks.
See, thanksgiving sanitizes your touch on the matters of your life. It decontaminates us from having fleshly influences that defile what God is doing. It’s thankfulness that keeps us in a place where everything in my life is now usable by God. Thankfulness transitions the very tool that the enemy intended for evil. The weapons of the enemy are destroyed through thankfulness; it actually removes the tool he was going to use to destroy you from him because now you’re aligned with God’s tools.
Go with me to 1 Thessalonians 5, and we’ll spend the rest of our time in this chapter. The last statement I made about thankfulness may seem a bit jumbled, and I’ll clarify it as we go along. Paul has an interesting dialogue two times about food and what we’re to eat. On one of those occasions, he says, «If your neighbor is sacrificing an animal to some demon god and you know they sacrificed that meat to the demon god, and they know that you know, don’t eat the meat.» He explains it’s not that it will harm you, but it will violate their conscience. If they don’t know, then eat it. Paul states that all foods received with prayer and thankfulness are sanctified.
Follow the logic here: here’s this big chunk of meat; my neighbor just offered it to some god. He doesn’t know that I know, but I saw the demon powers surround him as he offered the sacrifice. I know the enemy wants to destroy me through this, and I receive it into my life, giving thanks. My thankfulness just sanctified what was previously empowered by the enemy to bring destruction into my life. Did that make sense? Thankfulness sanctifies. So, in the middle of a horrific situation, thankfulness changes the situation. It’s not about chasing the devil around; it’s about turning our heart toward the celebration of who God is in every situation, anchoring our soul into that absolute victory promised to us.
So here we have this portion of scripture in 1 Thessalonians 5. I remember reading it as a young pastor. I realized I could spend the rest of my life learning these three verses, and it would keep my hands full. Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks. Let’s say it together: rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks. I’m not sure we see the effect of thankfulness on the human heart or the spiritual atmosphere around our lives. There is a sanctifying, cleansing, purifying work that takes place through thankfulness.
Why? Because thankfulness is automatically a position of humility. Thankfulness is not us dictating something to God or someone else; it’s coming low and honoring him for what he has done. Thankfulness is connected to the acts of God; it says Israel was acquainted with the acts of God but Moses was acquainted with his ways. There’s an interesting graduation in perception and experience in those two areas; many people experience the works of God, but they don’t know anything about his nature, his person. All the revelations or experiences of the works of God are invitations to discover who he is.
Moses prayed this prayer in Exodus: «Let me know your ways, that I might know you.» In other words: «God, I want to see what you’re like so I can follow that invitation into relationship.» We’re not gathering information for a test; we’re not gathering it to pass the quiz. We’re seeing glimpses of what he’s like so we can take each glimpse as an invitation or open-door opportunity to come into relationship.
When he revealed himself to Abraham as the provider—Jehovah Jireh—it wasn’t to make him more well-rounded in his theological approach to God’s resources. He was revealing himself as the one who was about to provide for him instead of him sacrificing Isaac, presenting a ram caught in the thicket. The point was that God the Provider just revealed himself; that provision was to be experienced. Thanksgiving will take you places nothing else can—that’s the truth.
So he says, «Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In everything give thanks.» Here’s the strange thing: let me give reference to thanksgiving because it’ll be more visual. I’m not a great golfer. It’s been years since I’ve gone, and I have some funny stories about my golfing expertise, but I’ll use this as an analogy: you have the ball here, you take a backswing, you meet the ball, and it goes that way. Yesterday is the past; today is the present, and the momentum shows you where you’re going tomorrow.
When you are thankful—"God, you provided for me when I didn’t deserve it; I blew it, I made dumb decisions financially, but you covered me anyway"—you automatically pick up a sense of where you’re going. Does that make sense? You automatically pick up a sense of this is my tomorrow. Why? Before there’s a problem, he’s created a solution. One of the most astonishing things in scripture for me is where it says Jesus was crucified from before the foundations of the world.
So before all of this was created, including humans, he was crucified. The point is, before there was sin, there was a Savior; before there was a problem, there was a solution. What could you come up with in your life that he didn’t already have a solution for? The reason for thankfulness is quite astonishing. Thankfulness creates hope.
And you know what hope is? The best definition I’ve seen of biblical hope—not the cultural word hope—is joyful anticipation of good. It’s excited anticipation for what’s about to happen. Hope gives us the opportunity to enjoy the emotional benefit of a miracle before the miracle happens. It allows us to feed from the emotion of victory even before victory occurs. Thankfulness creates that momentum.
So here we have an issue: rejoicing is a key to emotional health—rejoicing in any situation is so good. I believe strongly that these expressions require a physical response. He didn’t say, «Shout for joy, all you extroverts,» and, «All you introverts, just think happy thoughts; I’m good with that.» He didn’t say that; he said, «Shout for joy.» There’s something about the expression that changes our capacity to experience what God is doing and what he’s about to do.
Sometimes it’s kneeling; other times it’s laying on your face, raising hands, dancing. I remember the first time I danced before the Lord—I was alone in a house, worshiping, and I felt like the Lord said, «Dance.» I was so embarrassed. I made sure all the curtains were closed because I thought all the news networks were out there to film this great event. I really did—it mattered to me. Eventually, I didn’t care what anyone thought. There had to be a physical response.
Wigglesworth once said, «My body doesn’t tell me how it’s feeling; I tell my body how it’s feeling.» There are times when rejoicing involves simple actions—raising hands, lifting voices, or giving what’s in your pocket to someone in need. None of them are huge, noble tasks, but all require some form of external obedience. Rejoicing is just like that; it takes great faith.
It’s easier to hang your head and sing a song about God’s worth than to celebrate his worth because you need confidence that you are accepted to rejoice. He says, «Rejoice always.» The second part of that experience, rejoicing, is to give thanks in everything. I felt that he impressed upon my heart that the key to mental health was giving thanks in everything. I remember hearing a talk show host or psychologist say that 90% of all mental illness arises from trying to avoid pain.
Facing difficulties with thankfulness is not denial; it’s owning up to the challenge of the moment. It’s like Joseph with his brothers who sold him into slavery: «You did this to destroy me; however, God looked ahead and put me here.» I own the challenge of the moment, but I am liberated and free in that moment. Being free in that moment with thanksgiving and rejoicing exemplifies the nature of the Christian life.
We need this, especially considering how crazy things can get out there. If I move in offense, I will fight the challenge using the enemy’s tools, putting us on a level playing field. You always lose when you fight the devil on his field. Moving into the grace gifts of God, I refuse to live in offense but also refuse to live irresponsibly. I acknowledge flesh and blood is not my enemy—this person believes a lie, but yelling at them won’t change that.
Transformation requires recognizing that these two things—rejoicing always and giving thanks—are safeguards that bring about change. Emotional and mental health are crucial, and the world is crying out for them. Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and in everything, give thanks.
Rejoicing always is key to emotional health, and giving thanks in everything is key for mental health. The last point, pray without ceasing, is like rejoicing always. Without ceasing means always—just pray and don’t stop. Interestingly, in Nehemiah, there’s an awkward part of the story where people were assigned to give thanks to God. What do you do for a living? «I give thanks.»
That sounds formal and ritualistic without life, but there’s a secret in that routine: you bypass the limitation of your emotional condition, making mature choices that activate your emotional condition. Complaining empowers the inferior to undermine your faith. It only happens when we’re more mindful of a problem than we are of God. It’s impossible to complain when you’re more aware of the goodness of God than of any problem.
Rejoice always means «always» in the original language: just always. No matter what happens, choose joy. Well, «I don’t feel like it.» That’s why it’s a choice! He wouldn’t command it if we did it naturally. The only reason it’s a command is to provide an opportunity to flex a muscle.
You say you want to grow, you want to carry the weightiness of God into the Earth; here’s something you can learn to do. What happens if you miss your flight? You look at your clock; your other flight is boarding right now. Boy, am I thankful. My second response is not rejoicing; my first response is far from it. «Who’s in charge?»
There’s a bit of emotional grappling before I arrive at rejoicing. When someone drives past you on the freeway and then pulls in front of you and slows down—it’s not a big deal, just wrong. So, rejoice always, pray without ceasing. Rejoicing always is choosing joy; it wouldn’t be commanded if it weren’t within reach.
Joy is a part of the Kingdom; it is always within reach. I am a powerful person; I can choose joy because it’s always within reach. Pray without ceasing is like rejoicing always—without ceasing means just, «Always pray.» Interestingly, Philippians talks about supplications and prayers in Philippians 4:6—earnestly getting before the Lord, contending with God for a breakthrough.
He mentions thanksgiving because thankfulness creates the context to keep prayer focused. How many of you want effective prayers? We want to have impact. Our hearts long for change in our lives, our families, and our world around us. When we pray, we don’t want to run on a treadmill just covering miles; we want to see things happen. Thankfulness helps to keep our prayers on target.
There are times when I’m praying for someone who’s sick; let’s say they have arthritis in their arm. I might be praying for them, but nothing is happening. Then the Lord gives me insight into a more precise way to pray. When I change my prayer from a general «Heal this person» to something specific, the breakthrough comes.
Thankfulness hones the precision of our prayer life because it keeps our focus on him; it’s a place of dependency and acknowledgment. The strength in prayer arises not from complaining but from joining our hearts with his to see his kingdom come and his purposes fulfilled. Thankfulness keeps us engaged with that precision.
So, I don’t believe—at least, it doesn’t make sense to me—that anyone should give thanks for a bad report from the doctor. However, it makes sense to remain thankful and keep my list of blessings stronger than my list of needs. How many of you have ever made a prayer list? Most of you likely have one in your mind or in your notes.
How many of you have thankfulness lists? Probably not as many. There are a few, and that’s wonderful, but we tend to stay more conscious of need than we are of blessing. When I stay more conscious of my needs than my blessings, I will tend to pray from a hole instead of from heavenly places. Desperation is not bad, but I don’t have the best language, so bear with me.
What I mean is that still, I will tend to pray from a place of desperation instead of authority. Thankfulness takes that sense of need and flips it. Look at 1 Timothy 4:1: «The Spirit expressly says that in latter times, some will depart from the faith, giving heed to deceiving spirits and doctrines of demons.»
Look at verses 1 and 2; it warns us not to skip over the hard stuff because it is vital. There’s meat and milk in the word. Are you with me? The milk comforts, the meat provokes change. «He who gains his life will lose it, but he who loses his life for my sake will gain it.» Slow down and let it cut deep.
If it doesn’t hurt, it’s not the word of righteousness that brings change; it must prick and cause you to recognize you’re alive. Paul warns Timothy that some will fall away from the faith. They will create nonsensical rules that make people more pleasing to God.
This teaches us that you can gain favor by doing certain things, but what happened with Adam and Eve? They were already complete when the serpent suggested they eat the fruit to be like God. Shift the focus from what God has done for me that enables me to live freely for him, to what I must do to gain God’s favor.
Focus shifts into a place of flesh empowerment, which often leads to deception. Every creature of God is good—nothing is to be refused if it is received with thanksgiving.
This implies that it is not some purchase; realize what Paul had to address. If you hear someone served food you consider unclean or offered to an idol, he tells them not to refuse it. Why? Because that which is meant to harm you becomes sanctified by your own thankfulness.
Thankfulness takes the sting out of something sent your way to harm you. I know I’ve gone over, but thankfulness is powerful; that the one virtue that can change your life can change the nature of a city and the legacy of a family. Happy Thanksgiving!