There are a handful of hymns I associate with Thanksgiving, and they remind us of what may be our most crucial habit and privilege: being grateful. We are summoned by God, and by one another to “Come, ye thankful people, come.” If we weren’t in a thankful mood when we left the house, once we’ve come we settle into our seats to take the time to be thankful people, perhaps singing “Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices.”

And for what do we give thanks? “For the beauty of the earth, for the beauty of each hour, for the joy of human love, friends on earth and friends above, for the church that evermore lifteth holy hands above, Lord of all to thee we raise this our hymn of grateful praise.” For a God who elicits and delights in our gratitude, for a God who is merciful and gives us and the world a rich hope, for a God who is thankful for each one of us, even if we aren’t so grateful in return.

In our culture of blame, in our society that is all about earning and deserving, the church lifts us up to a higher, nobler plane by inviting us into gratitude. To be grateful, you have to surrender your sense of independence; you realize how dependent you are, how blessed you have been by the kindness and goodness of others. To be grateful, you have to surrender all vain notions of having earned all you’ve got, or any sense of entitlement. To be grateful, you rediscover that inside you truly are humble and really such a lucky dog.

Gratitude is a choice. I can be resentful, or I can be grateful. I can be proud of my achievements, or I can be grateful. I can expect God to fulfill my fantasies, or I can be grateful. Gratitude is a habit that takes practice. The more you cultivate gratitude, the more grateful you become. I even have this quirky dream that, for me and for you, we might even get to the point of omitting the “for” we typically place after “thankful.” Instead of being thankful for this or that, I just want to be thankful, a thankful person, with a little gyroscope inside my gut that points me constantly toward gratitude.

The psychiatrist Martin Seligman has reported on studies that show clearly that the tangible expression of gratitude reduces anxiety and depression. Doesn’t rid you of these things, but improves your mood. Write 3 thank you notes a day. Make a list at day’s end of 5 things that went well for which you are grateful. Pick up the phone and call somebody out of the blue to thank them for being kind to you. I’m pretty sure you simply cannot be anxious in the very moment you are telling someone how very grateful you are for them.

We thank God. God welcomes all prayers, but so many are asking for favors. Block out at least half the time you spend in prayer for simply expressing gratitude to God for life, mercy, love, hope, wisdom, meaning, and simply listening. Interestingly, in the Hebrew of the Old Testament, there’s no word for “thanks,” as in the mere word “thanks.” The Hebrew todah is something physical, something you like and value, something you’d prefer to keep for yourself that you offer as a sacrifice to God. We give thanks to God when we write a check to the church or donate to a drive or befriend someone who’s very different. Paul’s fruit of the spirit includes generosity.

So, this Thanksgiving, don’t sit back and bask in the sumptuous wonders you’ve earned for yourself or lucked into. Keep it simpler and sparer. Give thanks to others, even outside the obvious circle. Give thanks to God. Do something really generous for God. “Come, ye thankful people, come.”